Church St.

That's my old window in the upper left hand corner of this rather dull looking building. Looking at it now reminds me of the time when the roof was replaced. Due to the fact that I worked nights, there was a period of several weeks where I was awakened every day by the sound of hammers directly above my head.

This cookie cutter apartment complex squatted dolefully at the end of Church St where it abuts Highway 237. I moved into a two bedroom, upstairs apartment with Laura and her daughter, Kelly, who I think was then around 12 or 13 years old. Before we moved in together, they had previously lived across the complex in a one room apartment. Also living with us was their cat, BJ, who was one of the smartest cats I’ve ever known. He was constantly trying to get outside, so opening the front door always had to involve a quick motion with a leg to block his inevitable attempt to dart between the doorjamb and the opening door. Years later, after moving out, I had to break myself of the habit of swiftly inserting my foot into the widening space as I opened the front door of my new residence.

Laura worked at Tower with me, she in receiving and me out on the floor as shift manager. Our relationship was the only workplace romance I’ve ever attempted, and as I’ve mentioned elsewhere, it was an on again/off again affair. Our differences in age, personality, and life experience were profound, with her being 14 years older and having a background that can only be described as harrowing. She was also in chronic pain, and had bad days where it was all she could do to get out of bed and sit in her chair.

Kelly was a strong-willed and intelligent child. In a way, she was like my first stepdaughter. Not that Laura and I were married, or even in that kind of relationship most of the time. I helped teach Kelly to drive (she reminded me of this last year, when spent an afternoon together with our kids), and was generally there for her when needed.

My friend, Ellen, who had also briefly worked at Tower, moved into an apartment in the complex for awhile, and so did at least one other Tower employee, if I remember correctly. Jeff, my housemate from the first couple of houses in this ongoing series, lived in an apartment complex on the next street, accessible by a gate between our complexes.

Living with Laura was rewarding, awkward, frustrating, occasionally profound, and provided me with multiple opportunities for growth, some of which I took, and others which I didn’t. She was a woman for whom the words “I love you” were easier to utter than the words “I trust you.” I was a relative innocent. She was anything but. More than once, she said aloud that she wished that she could have what came so easily for “normal people”, but while we were living together, she never quite managed it, and I didn’t know how to make it work either.

During the “off again” moments of our time together, I saw other women, whose names all began with the letter D. I met D#1 through Ellen. She was a good deal younger than me and would eventually, long after our brief fling, become the co-owner of the Bal Theatre in San Leandro. D#2 was another Tower employee, and her claim to fame was that she had once been a model for Frank Frazetta. D#3 was somebody who I met through Jennie (yes, an ex-girlfriend, playing matchmaker). I might have taken this last relationship farther, but I was still emotionally confused about my non-relationship with Laura, and Laura, sensing that I was drawing away, turned on the heat, drawing me back in. She often admitted that she had a “come here/go away” problem in her relationships, both wanting and not wanting one at the same time. All of these brief “relationships” were overshadowed by the fact that I had unresolved feelings about Laura and my living situation.

There is a strange addendum to the story of D#3. My inspiration for starting this blog came from my first wife, Jen, way back in 2002. Jen became fascinated by the art of blogging, both reading and writing them. To this day, she makes a living working for a company called Blogher, so she managed to turn this fascination into something sustaining. Back when we were married, I happened to notice that one of the author photos attached to a blog she was regularly reading looked really familiar. Sure enough, it was D#3, who had become a Unitarian minister down in Texas. Being amazed at this coincidence, I briefly contacted her, which given Jen’s jealous nature, probably wasn’t a good idea. In retrospect, I think this might have been one of the first wedges inserted between us. I’m not sure if Jen continued reading that blog afterward, or if it exists. Maybe I’ll poke around and see.

I also did the majority of my international traveling while living on Church St., going to France and England several times. I also went to New York a couple of times during this period, and Texas as well. It was a busy time. I was young(ish), and between my two jobs, I could afford to travel, as long as I did it as cheaply as possible.

Laura eventually quit Tower, and was jobless for awhile, making me the sole provider. She eventually got a job at a paint store, and then one at Trader Joe’s. I quit Tower as well, and after my friend Matt mentioned that he had a friend who worked at the Children’s Discovery Museum and that I would be a good fit there, I got a job at the museum.
While working at the museum, I met Jen one day in the early childhood center. Remembering Laura’s tendency to pull the “come here/go away” card, I resolved that this time I wasn’t going to hold back from exploring the possibility of a new relationship which, as things developed, led to me moving out.

Later this month, I’ll be attending Kelly’s baby shower, held in expectation of the arrival of her second child. She’s in her mid-thirties now, which makes me feel elderly.