We spent the Thanksgiving holiday in San Luis Obispo visiting our long-time friends Gene and Ros. We also house-sat for a woman in Los Osos, free lodging in exchange for looking after her pets.
In the morning we would take the dog for a walk. It was a strange experience because neighbors and other people about town knew the dog. They greeted us as if we’d been living next door for the past five years. It felt to me as if I was wearing someone else’s life. As if I was the Talented Mr. Ripley
It was an unavoidable temptation to put together a story about the woman whose life I had adopted. Clues could be found in pictures on the wall, notes pinned to the refrigerator, the titles of CDs neatly stacked above the stereo.
The bookshelf revealed this much:
Passionate Marriage
Staying Together
When Things Fall Apart
Helping Your Child Cope with Divorce
Zen and the Art of Knitting
“So,” I observed to Maureen, “that’s how it goes. It starts with a passionate marriage and it ends with knitting.”
“You got it,” she said.