The Out-of-Towners

 

Hello, Dear Readers.  It’s me just checking in again.   I’m fine and I sure hope all of you are still safe and sound.

…So a couple of weeks ago, TBF and I decided that we really needed a getaway.

TIMEOUT! What? I bet you thought that our romance was finito, kaput, adios and sayonara.

Well, Dear Readers, when I wrote a blog about it on September 30, 2018 A Hymn To Him, I honestly thought that it was.

Except that it wasn’t.

Practically as soon as that blog went live, the texts and phone calls started again and we electronically kissed and made up.

Let’s just say that the break-up didn’t take.

We’ve been together for four and a half years- give or take a fight or two- and now we’re going through Covid together.

And apart.

TBF doesn’t live in Chicago.  He lives in the suburbs and heretofore, we both enjoyed each other’s digs as a refreshing change of venue.

I liked the country life and he had fun in the city.  All good.

Except when the lockdown hit, we didn’t know what to do.  So I just hunkered down at my apartment for five weeks and he watched his p’s and q’s out in Suburbia.

And when the first phase of lockdown ended, we reunited out at his place.

Over the course of the summer, we’ve been having fun there.  I cook up a storm and it’s so nice just to be able to stroll about in the sun or go for a drive.  A peaceful oasis in a time of uncertainty.

But still, I miss my kids.  So I wheedled and pleaded and being the good guy that he is, TBF agreed to drive me to Boston to see Natasha.

(Not to play favorites here but Seattle- where Nick lives- seemed a little to far for a road trip.)

I was overjoyed when he said he’d do it. And we’d stop in Pittsburgh- from whence he hails- on the way to and fro.  It would give him a chance to catch up with his family, as well.

Win win.

I called Natasha and told her the good news.  I made hotel reservations for us all along the route.  I planned a day in Newport, Rhode Island.  (Both my kids went to school there and I knew it well and I knew that TBF would love it.)

We were all so excited.

Until the Governor of Massachusetts loused up all my plans.

And just like that, I had to cancel everything.

Everyone concerned was disappointed.  I had looked forward to that trip for weeks and it was cruel to have it vanish before my very eyes.

And now I had caught the travel bug and I just needed to go somewhere.

Anywhere.

For days, TBF and I had scoured the Internet in search of a car ride destination with a beach and without the virus.

Michigan was an option but it seemed like a really long car trip- especially when I wasn’t exactly bowled over by any of the destinations.

Anywhere south- Nashville, Memphis, New Orleans?

Out of the Covid question.

We wracked our brains and finally…

Paging Lake Geneva.

We had spent the day there recently and figured it was close, we knew where the beach was and it had enough restaurants (outdoor dining only, obviously) and shops to keep us busy for a few days.

Besides, a change is a good as a rest as the saying goes, and I desperately needed a change.

So we made hotel reservations and on a Sunday, off we drove.

CDC Footnote:  Wisconsin had just made Lori Lightfoot’s quarantine list the day before we decided to go.  However, TBF doesn’t live in Chicago and so we agreed that I would just hunker down at his digs upon our return to be in compliance.  And Lake Geneva was not experiencing a very high rate of the disease.  We checked before booking.)

In no time flat, armed with enough luggage for a month and snacks galore, we arrived at our hotel.  The day was glorious and since check-in time was four p.m., we secured our luggage and strolled the town.

It was jammed.

But we managed to do the waterfront and grab a quick outside lunch and gaze- from a healthy distance- at an art fair.

Soon it was time for check in.  Our hotel was right on the waterfront.  A glorious view.

Just the ticket to calm the soul.

And our room- really a little suite- was perfect.  It had a kitchenette and a living room and it was ideal for in-room dining.  It had a balcony, too.

Lovely.

TBF and I sat on the balcony and excitedly planned out the vacation’s activities for the upcoming week.  Monday’s weather looked a little overcast with a brief rain shower forecast for the afternoon so we decided that Tuesday would be our long-awaited beach day.  We also earmarked lots of fun places to eat and days to take lazy, long walks around the lake.

It was going to be great.

We went to sleep that night happy and secure in the knowledge that we had done the exact right thing coming here.

Monday morning was warm but cloudy.  We lazed around until it was time for a late brunch and some grocery shopping.  Brunch – breakfast for him and gazpacho for me- was yummy and the store was fine.  But as we walked out, the rain had started so we made a quick dash to the car and managed to get the grocery bags back into the room before the floodgates really opened.

We were schmoozing about nothing when a siren went off.

And the lights went out.

“Hmmm,” I said.  “That must be a tornado siren.  I’m not sure that I’ve ever heard one…”

There was a sharp knock on our door.

A disembodied voice said, “That was the tornado warning. I’m sorry but you will have to evacuate to the basement, please.  Right now, please and use the stairs, of course.”

More in amusement than fear, TBF and I walked down five (short) flight into the basement.  There was a lounge with lots of chairs and a few other families- most of the guests having departed that morning.

The  floor-to-ceiling glass windows gave us a good view of the storm out over the water.

The rain thundered down for a while and then it stopped.

We climbed back up the stairs and waited for the power to come back on.

After about an hour, it did.  TBF and I heaved a sigh of relief and then went about the rest of the evening’s important business.

Deciding where and what to bring in for dinner.

A decision had finally been made, the call for the dinner order had been placed when he suddenly turned to me and said, “Why did you shut the living room lamp off?”

“I didn’t,” I replied, walking over to try the lamp switch myself.

Nada.

“It’s not necessary to turn the lamp off from the switch.  You can do it from this wall switch…”

“I didn’t shut it off.  I just told you.”

And then it hit me.  I looked around the room.

“The power is out again.  OMG.”

TBF trudged down the four flights again and went to pick up dinner.

When he returned he had a brown paper bag- and the latest news.

“The power is out in about half of the town.  The restaurant was operational but this side of town is completely dark.  I stopped by the desk and the clerk said there was no way to reach the guy who can turn on the generator.  He did give me some candles, though. What do you want to do?”

We ate our dinner by candlelight as I pondered the options.

Having no power was NOT an option.  I couldn’t countenance no phone, no iPad, no lights, no air conditioning and TBF dearly likes his tv news at ten.

Calling the trip off and going home was always a choice but still…I had so looked forward to this little vacay.

I pondered some more and then made a decision.

“What do you want to do?” I decided to ask him.

TBF didn’t love the passing of the buck and so he said, “I’ll do whatever you want to, Dear.”

Sigh.

This happens a lot in our relationship.

I mean A LOT.

It was now 8:30 and the room- except for the romantic flicker of the two candles- was growing exceedingly dim.

I threw in the (beach) towel.

“Let’s get out of here,” I said.  “Why pay good money for no electricity?”

We rushed around, packed up all our junk, remembered to take the stuff out of the mini fridge, schlepped it all down the four flights and groped our way to the front desk.

“We’re leaving, ” I (unnecessarily) announced to the clerk.

“I don’t blame you,” he said.  “All the other guests have left already.  I can’t print you a bill, sir, but I’ll credit your card and cancel the rest of your stay.  I’m just sorry that this had to happen,” he sympathized.

“Well, we had thirty-one and a half hours of vacation,” I philosophized.  “Better than nothing.”

As we sadly walked out the door and headed to the car, the lights went back on in the hotel lobby.

“Perfect ending, ” I sighed.

And it was.