Woody & My IBF

Dorothy, Rose, Blanche and Sofia have nothing on the Charleston, West Virginia girls. I had spent my day viewing the Capitol and the museum and returned to the The Brass Pineapple, on whose steps, by the way, I found a penny. My mother sends me pennies from heaven. I was met by Lisa, the innkeeper (and owner). She had all sorts of stuff on the sideboard including an array of teas and a chocolate cake that looked incredible. But on the dining room table was her Aunt something's coconut bourbon cake. If you have not had one of these, you have not known anyone like Lisa's aunt who will divulge the secret. You will never, ever get the recipe from them, so soothe yourself with the taste. Of course I had a piece.

Lisa sat on the divan (old olive green velvet, if I remember correctly; if not, that would have been a good color), with her legs curled up beneath her. She had on a black beret, and had a bit of a mousy look. I asked her how she met her second husband. Her first husband passed away after a horrible, horrible cancer. Number two is a pilot, and it was a long and convoluted story. Suffice it to say that she spent an hour or more recounting it. Lisa is a gifted speaker. Her voice rolls up and down with her emotions. She is very spiritual and finds God's will to be her guide. It's worked very well. As we got further into the discussion (or monologue, because I was too spellbound to interrupt), her hat came off and she was pretty. Closer to the end, when speaking of her current husband, she became beautiful. I mean really, truly gorgeous. She talked of being lucky to have had a group of women to teach her to be a proper wife. She was a good wife. I wanted to ask her what the single best piece of advice she had, but I forgot. We never got to the end of the story because Yvonne came bouncing in.

Yvonne is from Atlanta, but not really. She is a native New Jersey girl. Her dark, dark hair surrounds her face in a big puff, and her eyes are blue. She is Catholic, so I'm guessing black Irish. Her ex-husband gave her a B&B in Maine. She still has it. He cheated on her and very abruptly left. She is still stunned. But today, in Charleston, she is in love. She reconnected with him after having a crush on him during high school. When the clasp on her crucifix turned around to the bottom, she would kiss it and make a wish. It was for Steven. God granted her that wish, just not right away. Steven lives in Charleston, and Yvonne is staying indefinitely at the Golden Pineapple. Steven is a pianist, and she played him on her Blackberry often. Yvonne can definitely see the bad side of the bottle, and she is very loud. She is like a child, in love, love, love. It is charming.

Sue Ellen came in next. By this time, tea is becoming wine and cheese. She is just sort-of-divorced. Sort of because she was never married. In Washington state, they don't have common law marriage but they have a thing called marriage equivalency. Who knew? Anyhow, they split. She wanted kids, he didn't. He decided to do it with someone else, and poor Sue Ellen's eggs just weren't what they used to be. She is beyond sad, beyond angry. She is whistful for her unborn children. She has a cat and a real estate license.

I got up to go to dinner because the storytelling was exhausting in its beauty, but exhausting nevertheless. My imaginary boyfriend hasn't given me much to talk about. He is rather one (or two) dimensional. Maybe my almost-real imaginary boyfriend will give me something to think about. He already has, I guess, and I have already lost it.