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| "But what do I know, I've only been here 85 years." -- Abe, Ess-a-Bagel |
BENNINGTON -- Addie saw me approach and a giddy smile formed and she leapt out of her chair and said "Joey's Home!" and wrapped her arms around me and squeezed. I squeezed back. Maisie repeated what Addie did, and we squeezed.
Addie rushed down the hall to get Sadie, who walked into the kitchen from her bedroom with a frown 'cause her belly ached. She smiled, but for only a second or two, and we hugged and she went back to her room.
And so it is again.
Back in Bennington after 72 hours in Gotham and thoughts and emotions are resurfacing. Been here 2 years and have given everything of myself to the cause: gallery, Joel and Nina, the girls. I'm mad about them and would die to protect them. I'm glad to be intricately weaved around Joel's and Nina's lives: Fiddlehead would cease to exist without me.
"Thanks for the accommodations," I texted Joel on the train to NYC on Sunday.
"Thanks for saving the gallery," he texted back.
And that's where we are: me as gallery manager, they as good friends and parents to 3 gorgeous heartbeats whose affairs I would preside over If ... .
Ideal situation when you think about it. A big happy family. I saw Nina first after walking through the door and she mentioned the British fellow from Dorset who bought something a day or two ago and, apparently, raved about our first encounter several months ago.
"He said, You can't let him go!" Nina told me, and that's all swell and good to hear.
But. Yeah, but.
Then Addie hugged me as if she'd been counting the minutes since Sunday.
But. Yeah, but.
Had a difficult time hopping aboard the train today. Didn't want to leave the city. An hour later, click and clack of wheels and track, we were somewhere north of Poughkeepsie on the edge of the desolate when the doubts began to take hold.
Guess it doesn't really matter right now. Guess I should go to sleep. Long day of travel. You know, one needs rest to be the very bestest art gallery manager in the whole wide world universe galaxy.
Addie rushed down the hall to get Sadie, who walked into the kitchen from her bedroom with a frown 'cause her belly ached. She smiled, but for only a second or two, and we hugged and she went back to her room.
And so it is again.
Back in Bennington after 72 hours in Gotham and thoughts and emotions are resurfacing. Been here 2 years and have given everything of myself to the cause: gallery, Joel and Nina, the girls. I'm mad about them and would die to protect them. I'm glad to be intricately weaved around Joel's and Nina's lives: Fiddlehead would cease to exist without me.
"Thanks for the accommodations," I texted Joel on the train to NYC on Sunday.
"Thanks for saving the gallery," he texted back.
And that's where we are: me as gallery manager, they as good friends and parents to 3 gorgeous heartbeats whose affairs I would preside over If ... .
Ideal situation when you think about it. A big happy family. I saw Nina first after walking through the door and she mentioned the British fellow from Dorset who bought something a day or two ago and, apparently, raved about our first encounter several months ago.
"He said, You can't let him go!" Nina told me, and that's all swell and good to hear.
But. Yeah, but.
Then Addie hugged me as if she'd been counting the minutes since Sunday.
But. Yeah, but.
Had a difficult time hopping aboard the train today. Didn't want to leave the city. An hour later, click and clack of wheels and track, we were somewhere north of Poughkeepsie on the edge of the desolate when the doubts began to take hold.
Guess it doesn't really matter right now. Guess I should go to sleep. Long day of travel. You know, one needs rest to be the very bestest art gallery manager in the whole wide world universe galaxy.
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