Some time back I was blogging about a woman who was living with my neighbor. They got into a big fight (the traditional “I need more intimacy” and the response “what you get is all I got”) and she moved out. Island Girl and I spent a day packing her things. She found stuff to do out of the house, so we wound up doing most of it. Then she and my neighbor, “P” started dating again and they got married. (I presume there is a pre-nup – Ed thinks it’s the most expensive piece of *** P ever got.)

Now “T” is my neighbor for good and all, but since she became a wife, I have not seen much of her. It’s been almost a year and she was in the wind. I found myself wondering if, now that she was the bona fide mistress of the house and, by extension, neighborhood royalty since her new husband is a trust fund guy and his house is elaborate and on water, like ours, that perhaps she considered us beneath her social circle. That is rather hysterical since most everything about her screams trailer trash, a condition I do not find necessarily off-putting if there is decency there. (She drives Ed nuts). Anyway, what, me worry? is what I thought.

“T” is the kind of girl who dramatizes everything about herself. Her style is stage-like and her conversation dwells on all she has to endure and how hard she works. I absorb all this. I actually don’t mind since it’s like watching a movie.

On Saturday, she rang the bell and apologized for not inviting us sooner, but she was having a gathering of her church congregation at her house in memoriam to her father who passed six weeks ago, and would we come. So we went.

The people were actually quite nice. The interesting thing about this congregation is that it is a splinter group that left the main church over a difference of religious philosophy. This group does not want to embrace any liberal thinking, such as ordination of gay priests, which was one of the main issues. They are more evangelical. I drank quite a bit of the very good white wine and found myself biting my tongue several times, since I am totally not religious. Droll comments about the faithful are wont to escape my lips. I had to zip it. I was even good when, before the food was served, people held my hands on either side and the minister prayed. I even closed my eyes, because, basically who wants to watch?

I was drawn to one woman who was stunning. She was in her 40s, had been a photographer’s model in New York, signed with a major agency. Her husband, of all people was the minister of the splinter group. Which one is he? I asked. “He’s the tall fellow over there in the black shirt with yellow pineapples,” she said. I wanted to say, well, your style sense hasn’t rubbed off on him, has it? But I didn’t.

It seens he had persuaded her to leave that life, which, incidentally, she said she had loved, and travel with him to some boonies out west and join him in a minister’s life. She said she chose to adopt his dream for her instead of her own dream for herself. She said she was happy with this choice.

Well, Peck’s Bad Girl here found that conversation resonating two days later and wondering if maybe she was trying to convince herself more than me. I’ll be interested to see how long she lives the homespun life before something snaps.

As for Ed, he found the host, P, sitting on a bench on the seawall and joined him. P indicated this was her thing, not his. He was happy to talk with Ed and I am guessing that was why we got invited. I can hear it now, “Damn it, go over and invite them. I’ve got to have someone to talk to.”

As for T, she greeted me like I had been her best friend, no gaps.

Ed left a little earlier than me to give the kitty his medication. When I got home, I got into bed with my clothes on and didn’t change until 2 a.m. There’s a rule somewhere about drinking water but since I hadn’t been drinking hard liquor I forgot it. The next day was a dud since I was too hung over to do well at anything.

xx, Teal