The Longest Date: Life as a Wife (15 page)

How indeed? I had no fucking idea!

Why had I started this story (the one I was telling, not to mention the one I was living!) if I didn’t know how to get to a safe, happy ending?

I still don’t know how people get down from this height.

And, of course, I am very appreciative that Ian is in this balloon with me, but let’s be honest: he is no help. His love for me and Olivia is just making the problem worse. He is taking us higher than I ever wanted to go.

And as I thought about this, how Ian’s love was making things worse, I had an idea for an ending—if not for life, then for Olivia’s story.

I told her that in order to land, we would have to love everything else in the world as well. We would have to love all of the other children, and the birds and the trees and the earth and the animals and the people, even the weird people, and eventually everything else would float up or we would float down—I wasn’t sure about the specific mechanics of it—but I assured her that by loving everything else in the world in addition to one another, we wouldn’t feel so vulnerable and alone. (Or, at least, I wouldn’t.)

“So,” I continued, “we loved the animals and the trees and the people, and eventually, we got back down and crawled out of the balloon and went to sleep.”

I looked at Olivia to see if I stuck the landing, so to speak, and I guess I did, because she was asleep, just like in the story.

I felt kind of proud of myself.

I also felt like I could exhale for what seemed like the first time since the earthquake, which had actually taken place several months earlier.

•   •   •

So, maybe taking a chance on loving someone and committing your life to that person (even if that person is sometimes crazy), and then taking a chance on creating a family (even if it is very hard to create, even if the pain and loss are sometimes too much to bear), maybe all of that gives you the chance to see higher highs than you ever imagined.

Which, of course, means you have farther to fall.

The altitude still scares me.

I feel like there is so much to lose.

I feel, quite often, like life was easier when it was just me, just one person, safely grounded, but it’s too late for that.

We’re already in the balloon—all of us—not just me, but Ian, Olivia, even Tink (who is not comfortable with this situation either, as evidenced by her need for all of us to be in one room whenever possible). We’re all in this thing—the neighborhood, our families, our friends, our dogs and cats, and you . . . you people just falling in love, just moving in together, just getting married, just having a baby, just reading this sentence. . . .

We’re all in this together.

Mostly I have to thank Ian, who could not have been a better sport as I was writing this book and as we were living these chapters. The fact that no matter what I wrote, he still came off as dreamy . . . well, that just proves how limited I am as a writer, and how dreamy Ian is as a human being.

I want to thank my mom for being such a warm and wonderful mother, and also for giving me Grandma Ruby’s bentwood rocking chair, which spent a lot of time in storage unit R3176 before making the transition back to the Fabulous Beach House (aka the House of Sand and Fur). I remember my mother and grandmother rocking me in it, and now Olivia’s favorite thing is to rock in it herself until it knocks into a wall.

I want to thank my dad, who calls some parts of this book “the bad parts,” meaning there is too much information for a dad, and maybe for an audience. So if you were ever uncomfortable reading something, you have my dad to thank for trying to shield you, for telling me that some things might be too personal, that not everyone needs to know everything. As usual, I didn’t listen to him, and now, karmically, I have a daughter who will not listen to me someday, and I can only hope I live to see it.

I want to thank the storytelling community of Los Angeles, which supported and encouraged me as I read many of these chapters in progress. I will always have a soft spot in my heart for live storytelling and spoken word events, not only because they brought me and Ian together, but also because they remind everyone lucky enough to be listening how compelling, hilarious, poignant, and healing a true story can be.

I want to thank my literary agent, Joy Harris, because she told me many years ago that I should write a book about marriage, which is why I wanted her to represent me. I had not planned to write a book about marriage—I was still wondering what I had to say on the subject—but she was sure I would have plenty to say, and apparently she was right.

I want to thank my editor at Viking, Rick Kot. From the beginning he made me feel that I had a story worth telling, and at times when I worried nobody would care about me or my marriage or my dog, he assured me that at the very least, people would care about the dog. (I’m kidding, although it’s true that he’s a dog person, which I now love in a person, but also, he is a book person, and a friend to writers, and I feel very lucky to have had him on board even before there was a baby on board.)

Speaking of which, I want to thank—and apologize to—Olivia. This is probably more than you wanted to know, and yet I hope you grow up loving your story, and seeing the humor and heartache in everyone and everything. I am so happy you came into my life (and my book). Your father and I could not love you more.

But we will. Every day. For the rest of our lives. And then some.

“Get This”:

Published in Dutton’s
Girls Who Like Boys Who Like Boys
anthology, May 2008; shorter version published in
New York Times
“Modern Love” column, May 6, 2007.

“Oh, How We Love Bad Boys”:

Published in
People’s Sexiest Man Alive
issue, November 28, 2005; included in the St. Martin’s Press
What Was I Thinking?
anthology.

“In Sickness and in Health”:

Written for the Stand Up to Cancer Web site, posted May 2008; Published in
O, The Oprah Magazine
’s October 2008 issue.

“The First No No Noel”:

Published in the
New York Times
Sunday “Styles” section, December 24, 2006.

“Now We’re Cooking?”:

Published in
O, The Oprah Magazine
’s April 2008 issue.

“We’re Having a Maybe!”:

Published in the St. Martin’s Press
Afterbirth
anthology, April 2009; shorter version published in
O, The Oprah Magazine
’s September 2008 issue.

“Eggspecting”:

(Note from Cindy: I wrote “Eggspecting” in July 2009 and it was slated to appear in the
New
York Times
“Modern Love” column, but then we lost the baby, so I pulled the piece because, as you can see, that’s not something easily put into a footnote.)

“A Father’s Story: The Baby We Never Had,” by Ian Wallach:

Published in
O, The Oprah Magazine
’s October 2010 issue.