“…Here’s the scene. It’s a hot, sunny Saturday. We’re exhausted and irritated. We’ve exhumed our psyches out of a pit of despair from looking at four more ugly houses. We look out onto the water from our friends’ lovely home. We are desperate to have our own view and our own house. We plunk down on their L shaped couch.
“…Peter is at one end. I am too cranky to sit beside him. I’m clear at the other end, and say, “ Look. The realtor just told us we have thirty-two things on our list and we need to knock it down to four. So, what do we want?”
:Get this: he says, ‘I don’t know.’, like that’s an answer.!”
“I couldn’t stand it. I grabbed a pillow and threw it at him as hard as I could.. It landed on top of him with a thunk. He was so surprised he glared at me for a half a second. Then he lobbed a pillow back at me just as hard. Then, I was the surprised one.
“Gasping for air, the war was on as we continued throwing pillows at each other. Then we got closer with the pillows and had to leap on top of each other. Wrestling on the couch could only go so far. Whoever pushed who landed us both on the carpet continuing our fight until laughing so hard, we had to stop.”
Out of breath, but exuberant with relief and some kind of joy, I asked him, point blank. “OK. So, what do we want?”
Right then and there we decided on the three most important things. We wanted to be overlooking the water. We needed a house big enough for his art studio and my writing office. And plenty of room for a garden.
“Elated, we went back to our realtor and reported the list. When we got there, he was beaming.
“Now, Mark here it is: wait for it: the realtor says to us, ‘you remember that house you first looked at that you loved? It’s back on the market.”
Mark howled with the kind of joy that is the shared experience in magic stories retold.
“That’s like that old maxim, When It Is Meant To Be, It Is.”
“More like, Pillow Fights Work With The One You Love.”