Snoozing away to the sound of waves crashing outside our window, with doggies safely in the hands of their favorite pet sitter in Vermont, I have been back to my old ways of fabulous deep morning sleep ins. While Don jumps out of bed for sunrise swims in his childhood lake, I cuddle up with my baby pillow I have brought here with me in my carry-on luggage. My dreams have been rather dramatic during this time of Covid. I often wake with a start, with my heart racing, talking myself down from some crazy nocturnal adventure or unrest. The Wall of Moms being tear gassed, insane tweets from the Oval Office, and a deadly disease out of control in the U.S. that keeps me from crossing borders to countries where my children live is survivable in daylight hours. In the night, it all plays on my soul.
This morning I was the first one up. Wide awake at 5:30 a.m.. This time it was I who jumped from the bed. I moved to the living room overlooking the lake. With my hot cup of tea, the view of dreams, and my old friend Kevin Kwan I have begun my day. Several years ago I arrived at this Wes Andersonesque family cottage by the sea as I always do, with a few clothes, lots of books, and more needlepoint than I can possible finish.
I had with me a brand new book I had read about in a magazine; with a gorgeous cover and a shocking title, Crazy Rich Asians caught everyone’s eye. Nose deep in this beautiful book, birthing my obsession with Singapore and Mah Jong, I tuned out all family activities and delighted in this amazing tale. With my highest compliments I passed this book around the family. Long after we left I received texts from others who read the book and shared my joy. Each year I brought back the next installment to awaiting fans. My eldest daughter walked in the house one day to find Rich People Problems sitting on the kitchen counter and was appalled to say the least. Even when I explained that the book was fiction, she still could not shake the title. I finally managed to get her to read the series, and although she loved them dearly, I suspect she probably covered the third in the trilogy in brown paper!
The family cottage is quiet this year. 2020 has even managed to affect this remote spot with the magical view. Family members usually gather together and fill every bed in every nook and cranny. Large gatherings at 5:00 for cocktails and “fish butter” (named by little great niece Willow) are now rather small and tame. Bustling dinners and late night poker games are dearly missed this year. We have arrived as Heaton: Party of 5. And we so miss the other Heatons who will stagger their time here or stay at home this year due to the virus.
Some things are the same. The beautiful view of sea and sky which dazzles us with dancing shades of blue, green, pink, purple, and orange. Old needlepoint pillows stitched by my beloved mother-in-law Mame, gorgeous pottery, including topless mermaids created by my ceramicist father-in-law, and Kevin Kwan’s latest juicy summer read. While 2020 brought the cancelation of a Greek and Italian travel adventure for my husband and I, Sex and Vanity has taken me to the Amalfi Coast for a tour of the most beautiful estates, gardens, and hotels. I have gained a new cast of characters in my list of favorite friends. They have stolen my heart. I am here, early this morning, devoted again to the adventures of wedding guests as they celebrate in glorious Capri. Thank you Keven Kwan for bringing some much appreciated summer joy this very unusual year.
