{"id":4744,"date":"2021-08-23T10:24:38","date_gmt":"2021-08-23T17:24:38","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/?p=4744"},"modified":"2021-08-23T10:24:38","modified_gmt":"2021-08-23T17:24:38","slug":"being-in-love","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/archives\/4744","title":{"rendered":"Being In Love"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

On a warm sultry afternoon in early September, Delilah is alone in the big soaking tub in the bathhouse on Ziggurat Farm, two miles inland from the northern California coastal town of Mercy. A musician and artist and teacher, her twenty-eighth birthday a month away, she has been battling severe depression for five months now as her body numbly goes through the motions of life. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Her depression ensued when her\nboyfriend Thomas, a professor at Cornell, ended their brief and mostly\nlong-distance relationship\u2014Delilah\u2019s only experience of a sexual romance\u2014and her\nsorrow has proven impervious to the love and concern of her friends.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Submerged in the big tub, her eyes\nclosed, she startles when Andrea and Caroline, two of her closest friends, emerge\nfrom the changing room and join her in the tub, no one speaking. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

A few minutes pass and Delilah\nmurmurs, \u201cI should go,\u201d and moves to get out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cStay a while longer,\u201d says Andrea, her\nwords more command than request.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOkay,\u201d says Delilah, subsiding.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhen I came to San Francisco,\u201d says\nAndrea, her German accent barely detectable after thirty-four years in America,\n\u201cI was twenty-three and knew nothing about love. Not even a little bit. I had\nnever been in love or been loved, and my sexual experiences were few and ugly. To\nmy surprise and delight, American men were interested in me, and not just for\nsex, but for sharing life, too. In Germany I lived in the same working class\nneighborhood of Hamburg for my whole life and either the men there weren\u2019t\ninterested in me or I wasn\u2019t interested in them, but in San Francisco lots of\nmen found me attractive and I felt the same about many of them. After some\nmonths of dating and enjoying the novelty of being so popular, I chose James\nfor my boyfriend. He was a guitar player and singer and worked as a concierge\nin a small hotel. He was funny and sweet and I enjoyed him very much, though I\nnever imagined marrying him. Then one day I met Marcel. He was a waiter in a\nrestaurant near the restaurant where I worked. We went for coffee and I knew\nimmediately I preferred him to James. But I didn\u2019t tell James right way, not\nfor a few weeks. Then one night when James was at my apartment, Marcel called.\nWhen James asked who that was on the phone, I told him it was someone I liked\nvery much and maybe we should break up. He was devastated. I had been meaning\nto tell him about Marcel, but I was waiting for the right time, except there is\nno right time to tell someone who loves you that you don\u2019t want to be with them\nanymore. Then a year passed and I was very happy with Marcel, and one day I heard\nfrom a mutual friend that James suffered terribly for a long time after I broke\nup with him and he finally moved away because it was too painful for him to\nstay in San Francisco where we had been together. So\u2026 I did to James what\nThomas did to you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re a horrible person,\u201d says\nDelilah, blubbering. \u201cI always suspected you were.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI know you did,\u201d says Andrea,\ngliding across the tub and embracing Delilah. \u201cNow your suspicions have been\nconfirmed.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m James,\u201d says Delilah, clinging\nto Andrea and sobbing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry, sweetheart,\u201d says\nAndrea, holding her. \u201cI\u2019m sorry you were so hurt.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBeing in love,\u201d says Caroline who\nis forty-two and about to be married for the first time after many short-lived\naffairs, \u201cis not the same as love. In fact, being in love isn\u2019t love at all.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThen what is<\/em> being in love if not love?\u201d asks Delilah, amazed to feel her\nsorrow lessening. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBeing in love is imagining the\nother person is who you want them to be,\u201d says Caroline, joining the embrace. \u201cA\npassing fancy. But love has nothing to do with what we imagine. Love is real.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cLove is when two are one,\u201d says\nAndrea, thinking of Marcel.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes,\u201d says Caroline, thinking of\nher lover Raul. \u201cOneness.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

*<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

A few days after her soak with Andrea and Caroline, Delilah wakes to the familiar sounds of Celia and Nathan beginning their day.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m better,\u201d she says, rising with\nease and about to put on her usual trousers and T-shirt when instead she puts\non a dress, a light summery thing, and waltzes down the hall to the kitchen.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Celia is making coffee, her long\nblack hair full of gray, not surprising for one who is eighty-two. She smiles\nto see Delilah in a dress and says, \u201cI dreamt<\/em>\nyou were wearing a dress and playing the piano.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cShall I play something now?\u201d asks\nDelilah, looking from Celia to Nathan who is sitting at the kitchen table sipping\nhis tea and musing over a blank page.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes, please,\u201d says Nathan, nodding\nemphatically. \u201cI\u2019ve been missing your morning concerts.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

So Delilah returns to her bedroom,\nsits at her beautiful teak upright, and improvises a jazzy-sounding waltz\nunlike anything she\u2019s ever played because she is now unlike anyone she has ever\nbeen. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Nathan and Celia stand in the\nbedroom doorway, thrilling to Delilah\u2019s music and rejoicing in her transcendence\nof sorrow. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

*<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

In the late morning on a warm humid day in mid-September, Delilah rides her bicycle up the steep curving road through the forest to Ziggurat Farm. Winded from her two-mile climb, she stands on her pedals and glides along the farm drive to the sturdy new bridge spanning a newly made creek bed that will soon carry the flow of a recently resurrected spring.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

However, before that flow is\ndirected into the new channel, Gabriel Fernandez, a local backhoe wizard, must finish\nextending the channel another fifty yards to connect it with the original creek\nbed descending through the forest to the Mercy River.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Delilah watches Gabriel sculpting\nthe ground with his backhoe, and she wonders if he only likes her because he\nloves her music.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Gabriel is thrilled to see Delilah\nwatching him, and he wonders if she only likes him because he loves her music. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Now Daisy arrives on the bridge with\nher eighteen-month-old daughter Jenna on her back\u2014Daisy married to Michael who\nis Thomas\u2019s older brother.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Delilah and Daisy and Jenna are\nrendezvousing for a walk up the hill to the Richardsons\u2019 new house to meet with\nConstance and Joseph about Delilah illustrating Daisy\u2019s novella Women Farm<\/em>\u2014Constance and Joseph keen to\nsend the book to a publisher friend in England.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIsn\u2019t this amazing,\u201d says Daisy, standing beside Delilah and looking down at the newly made channel. \u201cIn just another few days there will be water flowing under us.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDown,\u201d says Jenna, reaching out to\nDelilah.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIn a little while, Jenna,\u201d says\nDaisy, having just spent twenty minutes with Michael wrestling the baby girl into\nthe backpack. \u201cWhen we get to Connie and Joseph\u2019s.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNow!\u201d yowls Jenna. \u201cDown now.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019ll carry her,\u201d says Delilah,\nwanting to make the baby happy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOkay,\u201d says Daisy, sighing. \u201cIf you\nwill hold her up, I will extricate myself from the straps.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Once on the ground and set free,\nJenna toddles off in the direction of the farmhouse where she hopes to find the\nbig girls she adores and their puppies.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNot that way, honey,\u201d says Daisy,\nchasing after her daughter. \u201cWe\u2019re going to Joseph and Connie\u2019s.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cVinnie,\u201d says Jenna, her way of\nsaying Vivienne<\/em>. \u201cPuppy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cJoseph and Connie have two<\/em> puppies,\u201d says Daisy, dragging Jenna\naway from the farmhouse. \u201cAnd cookies<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCookie,\u201d says Jenna, ceasing to\nresist.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

So up the hill they trudge, Delilah\ncarrying Jenna on her hip.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At a turn in the path, Delilah looks\nback at Gabriel on his tractor far in the distance, and not expecting him to\nsee her, she raises her hand in farewell and he raises his hand in response.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIsn\u2019t he the most beautiful man?\u201d\nsays Daisy, sighing. \u201cPlease don\u2019t tell Michael I said that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTell Michael,\u201d says Jenna, glowering\nat her mother. \u201cCookie.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhen I was reading your book,\u201d says\nDelilah, setting Jenna down for a moment, \u201cI kept thinking of Gabriel as Man.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMaybe you can use him as a model\nfor Man,\u201d says Daisy, picking up her daughter. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMaybe so,\u201d says Delilah, smiling at\nthe thought of Gabriel posing for her in the garden. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

*<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Joseph and Constance have been in their new house for six weeks, and to say they are thrilled is a vast understatement. For forty years they fantasized together about designing and building their dream house, yet never believed they would until they decided to move back to Mercy from England and were searching for a house to rent or buy when they found these twelve acres for sale adjacent to Ziggurat Farm, the housing site already cleared, a paved driveway from the highway completed, a prolific well dug, a large foundation poured. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Now seven months after purchasing\nthe land and designing the house, they wake each day in their glorious master\nbedroom and hurry down the wide hallway to the huge high-ceilinged room that is\nkitchen, dining room, and living room opening onto a vast deck overlooking a meadow\nsurrounded by a resurgent forest, their dream come true.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

* <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI imagine most of these drawings\nbeing portraits of the women and Man,\u201d says Constance, confident of her\nimaginings, \u201cwhereas Joseph, and correct me if I\u2019m wrong, dear, imagines\nlandscapes with human figures seen from afar if at all.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI prefer leaving things to the\nreader\u2019s imagination,\u201d says Joseph, sauntering after Jenna as she toddles\naround the living room in pursuit of the adorable black and white puppies Alec\nand Merula, most of the furniture yet to arrive. \u201cIllustrations should evoke\nnot define.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat do you think, Daisy?\u201d asks\nDelilah, who has read the manuscript three times and feels somewhat overwhelmed\nby the thought of trying to illustrate such a masterwork. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI hadn\u2019t imagined there would be\ndrawings, \u201c says Daisy, sitting at the big dining table with Constance and\nDelilah and enjoying herself immensely. \u201cBut I love the idea. I think there\ncould be landscapes and<\/em> closer views\nof the women gardening or cooking or hunting.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhen I read illustrated books as a\nboy,\u201d says Joseph, following Jenna to the table and lifting her onto Constance\u2019s\nlap, \u201cI had a hard time imagining myself in the stories if the illustrations\nwere too obviously not<\/em> me. Do you know\nwhat I mean?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI do,\u201d says Delilah, who has been\ndrawing with near photographic accuracy since she was a little girl. \u201cI was\nthinking we could assemble the females of the collective in the garden for an\nhour or so of sketching and picture-taking. That would give me more than enough\nmaterial to get started.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWho will pose as Man?\u201d asks Joseph,\nfrowning thoughtfully. \u201cPhilip? Marcel? They both have youthful physiques, and\nif the face is not too specific\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe were thinking of Gabriel for Man,\u201d\nsays Daisy, exchanging looks with Delilah.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe backhoe fellow?\u201d says Joseph, excitedly.\n\u201cNow that\u2019s a stroke. He\u2019s the right age and darkly handsome, and he\u2019s got the\nflowing locks and requisite muscles.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWouldn\u2019t we like to see him <\/em>without a shirt on?\u201d says Constance,\nloving having Jenna on her lap. \u201cSpeaking of Adonis.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThink he\u2019d do it?\u201d asks Joseph, arching\nan eyebrow. \u201cSeems rather shy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHe doesn\u2019t have to take his shirt\noff,\u201d says Delilah, blushing. \u201cOnly if he wants to.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

*<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Delilah leaves Daisy and Jenna visiting with Joseph and Constance and walks down the hill to the farmhouse to give Henri a piano lesson. Seeing Gabriel is done for the day and nowhere in sight, she pouts and says, \u201cDarn. Next time no matter what I\u2019m talking to him.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

She enters the farmhouse and is happy\nto find Henri, who just turned thirteen, giving a piano concert for Philip and\nAndrea and Gabriel, the three of them sitting at the dining table.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Delilah tiptoes to the table and\nsits next to Gabriel who is listening raptly to the lovely samba Henri\u2019s been\nworking on with Delilah, his playing not yet masterful but getting there.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When he finishes playing and acknowledges\nthe applause with a gracious nod, Henri says, \u201cNow you play something, Delilah.\nPlease?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWould you?\u201d says Gabriel, turning\nto Delilah and placing a hand on his heart. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOkay,\u201d she says, getting up and crossing\nthe room to the piano.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDon\u2019t start yet,\u201d says Vivienne, coming\nin the front door with Irenia followed by three seven-month-old puppies\u2014Jargon\nwith pointy ears, Cordelia the biggest, Max the runt with a stubby tail.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe are parched,\u201d says Irenia as she\nand Vivienne take off their work boots and leave them by the door. \u201cPlease wait,\nDelilah, until we have water.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When at last Vivienne and Irenia are\nsettled on the sofa with Henri, Delilah closes her eyes and thinks of Gabriel\nwho has attended every concert she\u2019s ever given since his return from war thirteen\nyears ago, her music holy to him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She imagines they meet on a dance\nfloor, he and she the only dancers, and as they dance together she plays a\nvariation on the jazzy-sounding waltz she improvised for Nathan and Celia a\nweek ago, this time the music profoundly romantic.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

*<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

On the morning of the Autumnal Equinox, the day sunny and cool, fifty people gather on the Ziggurat Farm drive to witness Gabriel remove the last few feet of soil keeping the headwaters of Mammoth Creek from resuming their original course.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Two state park officials have come\nfrom Sacramento to join five park rangers from nearby Egret Estuary State Park\nat the rejoining ceremony, two of those park rangers and Michael and Caroline\nhaving completed a survey of the creek bed from where it begins on Ziggurat\nFarm to where it joins the Mercy River, a descent of two miles through a forest\nof second and third growth redwoods, only a few problematic log jams found along\nthe way, those obstructions subsequently removed. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Also present are three members of\nthe local Pomo community, a dozen local environmentalists, the six Ziggurat\nFarm homeschoolers and their ten parents, as well as various neighbors and\nfriends of the farm including Constance and Joseph and Nathan and Celia and\nDelilah.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Nathan stands on the farm drive a\nfew yards north of the new bridge and addresses the fifty witnesses. \u201cI was\nasked by the farm folks to say something before Gabriel performs the miracle.\nWhy me? Because Celia and I are the only ones here who remember the creek as it\nwas a long time ago before the spring got jammed up, and I\u2019m the more verbose\nof the two of us. So here\u2019s a little poem I wrote to commemorate this moment.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mammoth Creek<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We were young lovers just married <\/p>\n\n\n\n

when last we stood on the old bridge\nhere<\/p>\n\n\n\n

looking down at the quiet stream touched\nby sunlight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Now we are old lovers standing on\nthis new bridge<\/p>\n\n\n\n

looking down at the dry creek bed\nwaiting for <\/p>\n\n\n\n

the water to flow beneath us again,\nsunlight <\/p>\n\n\n\n

waiting to glint off the water once\nmore.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Same lovers, same place on earth, <\/p>\n\n\n\n

same source, same delight to be here,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

everything eternally new.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He nods in thanks for the applause\nand turns to watch Gabriel mount his tractor, start his engine, and with his\nmighty backhoe remove the last obstacle to the creek resuming her original course\u2014everyone\ncheering as the sparkling water flows under the bridge and emerges on the\ndownhill side going strong.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

*<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

During the celebration following the return of the stream to her natural course\u2014coffee and tea and muffins at the picnic tables near the farmhouse\u2014Delilah approaches Gabriel and asks him if he\u2019d be willing to pose for some drawings for Daisy\u2019s book.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat is the book about?\u201d he asks,\nfinding her surpassingly lovely as always, though especially so in her light summery\ndress.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s called Women Farm<\/em>,\u201d she says, feeling quite naked in her dress and enjoying\nthe feeling. \u201cA fable set in the future when society has collapsed and is evolving\nanew, a chaotic time when groups of women band together for protection and live\nmostly apart from men.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd who am I in the story?\u201d he\nasks, looking into her eyes. \u201cA bad man or a good man?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh you\u2019re good,\u201d she says, nodding\nemphatically. \u201cAll good.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSo it really is<\/em> a fable,\u201d he says, smiling wryly. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHe\u2019s an innocent,\u201d she says, meeting\nhis gaze. \u201cWould you like to come for supper tonight? Celia is making her\nfamous fish tacos and I\u2019ll be making my less famous but nonetheless delicious\nguacamole.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI can\u2019t tonight,\u201d he says, sounding\ndisappointed. \u201cMy mother\u2019s birthday.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHow about tomorrow night?\u201d she asks,\nundaunted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes, I can,\u201d he says, nodding. \u201cQue\nhora?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCome at five-thirty,\u201d she says, breathlessly.\n\u201cWe\u2019ll eat at six.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBueno,\u201d he says, holding out his\nhand to her. \u201cI was hoping you and I would share a meal one day.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou were?\u201d she says, taking his\nhand. \u201cReally?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOf course,\u201d he says, growing\nserious. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhy of course<\/em>?\u201d she asks, never wanting to let him go.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBecause,\u201d he says quietly. \u201cYou\nknow.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI do know,\u201d she says, her eyes sparkling. \u201cI do.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

fin<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Passing Fancy<\/a><\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

On a warm sultry afternoon in early September, Delilah is alone in the big soaking tub in the bathhouse on Ziggurat Farm, two miles inland from the northern California coastal town of Mercy. A musician and artist and teacher, her twenty-eighth birthday a month away, she has been battling severe depression for five months now […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[6956,6952,6947,6948,6950,6957,6958,6959,6953,6960,6954,6951,6664,4305,6955,6788],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4744"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=4744"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4744\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4753,"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4744\/revisions\/4753"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=4744"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=4744"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=4744"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}