Leaving California

This story follows "Travels With William".

Leaving California

Compared with most places, going to the airport in Santa Barbara was delightful. Molly's trips to France always left from LAX and Molly was well acquainted with the miserable trip through L.A., the parking lot miles from the terminal, the shuttle buses and the rest. Here, one simply cruised down Hollister Avenue, turned left on Fairview, pulled into the spacious parking lot in front the mission style terminal and then just walked right in.

Molly didn't even have to pass her office at SBRC on the trip. This was further on down Hollister past the airport turnoff. Passing her office on a weekend gave Molly a creepy feeling, as if some giant hand would reach out and drag her inside. She couldn't help comparing what she was doing at the moment with being at work. And this would remind her she had to be back at work on Monday. And this would usually spoil the rest of her day.

Her dad was coming in for a five day visit from Avon Colorado and it was April, the best time to be in Santa Barbara. Cool sunny days that could be faced in shorts and everything green and fresh.

“Probably wished he'd never moved”, snorted Molly to herself. “He's sick of that snow.”

Molly was looking forward to the visit, but was a little apprehensive. This would be the first extended visit since her father outed her and Jane during his short stay last summer. Molly had already arranged for William to be scarce for the week, fearing that the presence of William might just be too much gay in the room for her poor father. She would start him slowly with just herself and Jane.

She entered the terminal and scanned the board for her father's flight. She was just in time, it was arriving. Santa Barbara was still old school and when the plane pulled up, a stairway was rolled out. The door opened and people began to descend and walk towards the terminal. After a moment, she saw her father and waved through the glass. He waved back.

“Welcome back”, said Molly as he entered the building.

“Yes, I've forgotten how nice it was here in Spring.”

“Sorry you moved?”

“Well, no. But that doesn't mean this place isn't nice. I guess it's the sea air. You probably can't smell it, but it hit me as soon as I stepped off the plane. Brought back a lot of memories.”

As they moved to the baggage area, Molly's father asked: “Where's your woman?”

From the corner of her eye Molly could see her father suppressing a chuckle, and she decided she wasn't going to put up with five days of this.

“Dad, there's just some things that you shouldn't try to tease me about. Some of this is uncomfortable for me and your teasing makes it worse, not better.”

Molly's father was a horrible tease, sometimes driving her to screams of frustration when she was younger, but he seemed taken aback now.

“OK, sorry”, he said, and then began to chuckle. “I was just thinking about that line for the last two hours, and I couldn't resist. By the way, where is Jane?”

“Working. She works at the News Press now and doesn't get off until six.”

“A reporter?”

“No, a proof reader. And she helps with the website. But it's a regular job. Not one of those wretched temp positions, so she has health insurance now.”

“Good, I was worried about her. You still have insurance from SBRC. Right?”

“Yeah”, Molly answered. Molly wondered what her dad would obsess about if he had been, say, a circus clown instead of a medical professional. Perhaps a pet monkey or the number of cream pies in the 'fridge.

Miraculously, the bag her father had checked was not lost and the two left the terminal. As Molly opened the trunk for the bag, her father said:

“You have a bad front tire. That's dangerous.”

“They're all bad”, Molly replied. “I don't go on the freeway with the car anymore. I just take it down Hollister to SBRC.”

Her father circled the car and said, “You're right, they're all bald. Why don't you spring for a set of tires?”

“Might have to, but we're trying to save all we can and tires would eat up a whole paycheck and then some.”

“To go North?” Molly's father asked.

“Yeah, we hope to go soon. I can't stand my work anymore and Jane is already starting to hate the News Press. It's not as bad as her other stuff, but probably just as bad as SBRC.”

They entered the car and drove out of the lot.

“Santa Barbara is a bad place to work”, said Molly's father. “I've seen it. Jobs are hard to come by here, and people desperately want to live here. So they end up staying in jobs after they would have moved on in other places. The whole place gets kind of inbred.”

“You're exactly right”, said Molly. “I'm one of the few people at work under fifty who hasn't been there for at least 20 years.”

”A bunch of old guys trying to manage each other”, said her father. “I know it well. That's why I'm gone from here. I've got a nice place to live in Summit and a job in a place that's actually alive and growing.”

“I would think Vail Medical would be like Santa Barbara”, Molly replied. “Everyone in the world would want to work and live there.”

“No, the cost of living turns a lot of people away. And the place is sort of like Disney Land, sort of flashy at first glance, but lacking a lot of substance. It doesn't have the elegance of SB. So they actually have trouble pulling in really good people. But they do. And the place is growing by leaps and bounds, and that makes a difference.”

“Well, even if I could get past the inbred old guy problem, I just don't like what I do. Ninety-nine percent of engineers engineer nothing. I mostly run standard tests on equipment, and that's the good work. When it's not there, I count beans. Just a boring job in a cube.”

Molly's father chuckled again, “I told you to go to medical school”.

“Yeah, maybe I made a mistake.”

“Being a company man, or woman in your case, isn't for everyone.”

“It definitely isn't”, Molly replied as they pulled up to the duplex.

To her horror, Gay William stepped out of Pete's side of the duplex and waved. He wasn't, per their agreement, making himself very scarce. Pete and Nell came out next and craned their necks at the car. As they exited the car, Nell called out:

“Hello! Are you Mr. Peterson?”

“I am!” Molly's father shouted back across the yard.

“We've been waiting for you guys”, Nell answered. “William has something really cool.”

“Oh really!”, shouted Molly in a somewhat irritated tone of voice, as she opened the trunk. Pete came down and carried one of her father's bags.

Once in Molly's half of the duplex, William and Nell entered carrying a painting.

“I told you two I'd get you something for the wall so you two could start living like girls”, said William.

William placed the painting against the wall and stood back. It was a painting of a woman who was almost unquestionably a flapper. She had the strap dress, a cloche, the bob and and an almost perfect spit curl in the middle of her forehead. She sat at a piano and smiled out onto a year that would have certainly sounded like science fiction to her. Something in her face conveyed that she really knew how to have a good time.”

“OK, first thing”, said William. “You can't actually have the painting. It's valuable and it's been in our family for a while. You have to give it back someday. But you can borrow it.”

William looked at Molly and she nodded.

“OK”, William continued. “This is a painting by Ted Lukits. He's a Romanian guy who used to do plein air with Frederick Remington. He started out in Paris during the last of the Belle Epoch and he actually studied under Hector Guimard.”

Molly nodded, everyone who had ever lived in Paris had admired Guimard's elaborate Belle Epoch metro entrances.

“He made his bones as a plein air painter, all those desert scenes and such, but before he did that, he worked in Hollywood as a portrait painter. Back in the 1920's. In the golden age of Hollywood. He did a lot of the major players back then, but this is a minor player. Her name is Ethyl Waid. She wanted to be an actress, but she never made it. But she was really brave and she made her living by hanging by her knees from the landing gear of a bi-plane. In her bathing suit. Apparently, when they didn't have a paying gig, the pilot would take her up and down Hollywood Boulevard to increase her name recognition.”

“Isn't that cool?” Said Nell.

“Yeah, it's a great story”, Molly replied.

“I thought this would be a good painting for you and Jane, with your motorcycles and all. Ethyl would probably feel right at home here if she was still around.” William continued.

“Well thanks”, said Molly. “It really is a wonderful thing to have around.”

Molly's father stepped forward and shook William's hand.

“Anything that distracts Molly from motorcycles and model airplanes is most welcome”, he said.

“Glad to meet you. I assume you're Molly's father.”

“Yes, I'm Bjorn”, Molly's father replied. “The name is Icelandic, but Molly and I are pretty much 100% American now.”

“Glad to meet you”, said William. “But I'm being rude running my mouth. Surely you're tired after the trip. Sit down on the couch here. I have excellent Chardonnay if you'll just let me run next door.”

“Interesting chap”, said Molly's father. “Where do you know him from?”

“Just from around town”, Molly replied. “He one of our best friends. He gave us the couch and char.”

“I noticed those when I was here last summer”, said Molly's father. “I thought you were just becoming civilized. But it was William. Huh?”

Molly nodded.

William entered with three bottles and a handful of glasses. Jane followed him in.

“Hi, Mr. Peterson”, said Jane as William sat everything on the steamer trunk that served as a coffee table and fished in his pocket for his Swiss Army knife.

“How are you Jane.”

“Fine, I'd like to thank you for when you took us out that last time last summer. I feel so much better after we all talked. I feel like we're a family.”

“That's what I wanted”, Molly's father replied.

“Well, it means a lot”, said Jane as she turned to help Nell and William with the pouring and distributing of the wine.

When all the glasses had been passed out, Molly's father raised his and said, “To the family”.

“To the family”, everyone replied.

Everyone except Molly's father thought it good form to get slightly drunk if there were more than two people in the room and booze was available, and the wine was quickly drunk. Jane then produced a bottle of Wild Turkey and shots were poured into the empty wine glasses. Molly's father was out of shape for this sort of thing and he was the first to give.

“Oh my God no”, he said when offered another shot.”Let's go get something to eat. Is there something within walking distance? None us should get near a car.”

“Joe's” Said Jane.

“New Joe's”, corrected Pete to Molly's father. “The Joe's you know closed up. Someone opened a new one a couple of doors down. All screwed up and different, but the food is still pretty much the same. Somehow they got the menu.”

“And we can walk?” Asked Molly's dad.

“Yeah, just a couple of blocks”, Pete replied.

To Molly's father, New Joe's really was a disappointment. It sort of looked like a Denny's inside and Mr. Peterson found himself waxing nostalgic for the funky booths and Formica tables of the old Joe's Cafe. Formica with 1950's style boomerang patterns on it. He recalled eating here when Molly could stand on the seat of the booth and eat off the table. He had asked her if she knew what a boomerang was and was surprised that she did.

But Pete had been right, the menu hadn't changed and they all ordered heavy meals of roast beef, mounds of fried chicken, baked potatoes and bread. Sourdough bread and salsa was one of the house specialties.

“So what's a plein air painter”, Molly's father asked William.

“Technically, it just means 'open air' painter or someone who paints outside. But the meaning got a little more specialized. It's a technique that uses the color of the atmosphere to give a three dimensional effect to the work. A lot of the paintings are of far off mountains and hills for this reason.”

“How does it do that, the three dimensional effect?” Molly's father asked.

“It's an illusion done by slight color variations down the field of view. Things slowly being obscured by the atmosphere as you get further away.”

“Don't all realistic paintings do that?”

“Not really, the light changes very rapidly and most ordinary painting just go with it. So the effect is lost. For a real plein air, you need to get the colors down in about ten minutes or the light will change too much. So they don't paint in the actual light. They have a sketch and they add color notes to it during the ten minutes or so. Just little dabs of paint. They then finish up the painting using the color notes as a guide.”

“A pretty elaborate method”, said Molly's father.

“Yes, and one that got wiped out by the camera. Lukits was one of the last and he died in 1992.”

“Very interesting”, said Molly's father. “I'll see if they have some pieces at the museum here.”

“They do”, answered William. “I'll go with you and show you if you want. I've always been a big fan of the school. And go to the museum to see it. You can't see the technique in art books because the images are too small. And I think that's one of the reasons that the school isn't that famous. Nothing like the impressionists.”

“Which do fine in art books”, noted Molly's father.

“They do”, William replied. “So everyone knows them.”

“It would be nice to see these guys, maybe sometime this week when Molly's at work.”

“Could be done”, said William.

“So what do you think of New Joe's”, Molly asked.

“I think I prefer Old Joe's”, her father replied. “Do you remember all the times we came to Joe's to eat when you were in grade school?”

“Sure do, I cried when the closed down. I had been going there all of my life.”

After the meal, everyone went their separate ways in the night. Molly, her father and Jane stood just outside the front door of the New Joe's.

“I need a cab to upper State”, said Molly's father. “I have a reservation at the Ramada.”

“Then let's walk down to Paseo Nuevo”, said Jane. “There's always cabs there.”

A cab was located and, after arrangements for breakfast the next morning, Molly's father sped off. Jane and Molly walked home, feeling a little more sober after the meal.

That night, Jane drew up close to Molly under the covers and whispered, “Does your dad like me?”.

“I'm sure he does. He would have found a way to say something if he didn't. Does your mom know about us?”

“No”, Jane replied.

“What?” Molly started. “After that huge deal you made about me not telling my dad? You still haven't told your mom?”

“Well, your dad's nice. And he understands. My mom wouldn't. And that's all I'm going to say.”

“How do you know she wouldn't”, Molly asked.

“The things she says. She suspects me and asks me why I'm not married and stuff. Says bad things about gay people in front of me. I don't want to get into it.”

Molly let it go. It was just to complicated to deal with late at night with the booze wearing off.

The next days were spent visiting old places that Molly had attended with her father prior to her leaving for college. Molly's father had moved to Avon while Molly was attending UCLA in Westwood and they hadn't really done Santa Barbara together since.

On the fourth day of he visit, ,Molly, her father, Jane and William walked from Butterfly Beach by the Biltmore almost to Santa Clause lane. The tide had been rough and the abandoned oil wells were poking through the beach sand. Tightly capped so as not to spill oil. Several sailboats had come loose from their moorings in the fool's anchorage and lay smashed on the rocks against the bluffs. These were inspected in detail.

Passing what appeared to be a simple wooded area near Carp, William said:

“There's a huge estate in there. That's where the Clintons would stay when the visited back when he was President. Someone leased it for a party a while back and I got to see it. Impressive.”

They turned around at Loon Point and began making their way back.

“Let's go into Summerland and eat at the Nugget”, said Jane. “They have chicken in a basket and that's my favorite food in the whole world.”

“What's chicken in a basket?” Asked Molly's father.

“Fried chicken with french fries. It comes in a plastic basket lined with a paper towel.”

“Oh”, said Molly's father.

And they all went to the Nugget and ordered Chicken in a Basket.

“Not bad”, said William. “I expected a festival of grease. Guess the paper towel takes care of that.”

“Yup”, said Jane. “That's why I like it.”

“Santa Barbara sure is a wonderful place”, said Molly's father. “Are you two sure you two can pack up and leave?”

“We plan to”, said Jane.

“Yeah, but I will miss the place. This is a pretty awesome place to live.” Molly added.

“When do you plan to make the move?”

“Well, we're going to save until summer and then start going up and looking for a place. Get a Realtor up North and start checking out the towns.”

“Have you ever thought about coming to Colorado?” Molly's father asked.

Molly and Jane looked at each other with puzzled expressions.

“No”, Jane said.

“It's expensive”, said Molly. “That's why we're going North, it's cheap up there. That and we can live in the country.”

“You wouldn't have to live in Avon”, said Molly's father. “But there are many, many nice little mountain towns that have what you are looking for. Some really beautiful places.”

“Reasonably priced?” Asked Jane.

“Yes, the Vail Valley, where I live, is probably one of the more expensive areas in the state. Why don't you two come out and check out the rest of the area? Stay for a month or so and travel around. I think we could find you a nice little coffee shop or hotel in a really nice place. I could help you out.”

“A hotel?” Asked Molly. “I don't think we could afford something like that.”

“I saw one between Leadville and Buena Vista that cost less than a tract home in Goleta”, her father replied. “It was a little rough, but it made money and could be fixed up.”

“I suppose we could come out”, said Jane. “What do you think Molly?”

“I'd have to get a leave of absence, but it's slow and I think I could get one.”

“And I could just quit”, said Jane. “The job sucks anyway. Just like all the others.”

“Make sure you get your Cobra if you do”, said Molly's father.

Molly flashed back on her image of the circus clown father who obsessed about the pet monkey, and then continued: “I never thought of a hotel. That would be a nice business. And we could put the coffee shop and wine bar in the hotel.”

“I think if the three of us threw in together we could pull it off”, said Molly's father. “I'd be a silent partner”.

“Actually”, said William. “I might be interested in something like that too. A small ownership interest in a nice little retreat in the mountains. I could be another silent partner. But make sure it's a place with a fireplace and a mountain view. Something really cozy.”

The party finished the meal and returned to the beach for the walk back. It was that magical evening beach time. It was still early enough in the year for the evening tide to be really low and the broad expanse of wet beach glowed golden in the setting sun. The lights were coming on in the lovely little houses of Fernald Point as the passed. Molly noted that you could always tell when people had real money as their windows were always spotless and glowing. Scrubbed to perfection by Hispanic house keepers. One of Barbara Streisand's producers lived here in a cute little beach cabana.

Both Molly and Jane were a bit stunned by the conversation in the restaurant. Getting out of their miserable jobs and relocating to the country was something they were sure they were going to do someday, but maybe not today. Not right now. And the offer to move right away was discombobulating to say the least. Molly noted how lovely the beach was in the evening and how she loved coming here to run. Jane had never lived anywhere save the central California coast and had no idea what Colorado would be like. Her one experience had been staying with Molly's father in Avon the Christmas before. A large house in a very glitzy, modern area. One without the funky retreats that allowed her and Molly to survive. The two fell back from William and Molly's father.

“So, are we going to Colorado?” Jane asked.

“Yeah, I think so”, Molly replied.

“Then I'm scared”, Jane said.

“Why? It's just a trip. Maybe for a month.”

“Can you get your job back?” Jane asked.

“I think so”, Molly said. “And we can live off my salary until you find something. Just not save anything for a month or so. So no big deal.”

Jane nodded. “So what do you know about Colorado?”

“My dad lives there”, Molly replied. “Not much else. But I guess we're going to learn.”

The next day at 1:00 PM Jane and Molly took Molly's father to the airport.

“You two are coming then. Huh?” He asked.

“We're going to buy tires right after we drop you off. Make an appointment for an oil change and to have the car checked out. I'm guessing two days for the drive.”

“I'd budget three. You don't get to drive cross country that often and you two should take your time and enjoy it. Maybe see the Grand Canyon or something.”

“We'll see. To be honest, I still have to figure the whole thing out. I haven't thought it through yet. But yeah, we should head out in a couple of days.”

“The roads should all be clear by then, but you can never be sure. Don't try and travel in a spring blizzard. Get a hotel. The snow will only be on the ground for a day or so this time of year. And don't kid yourself that you're good at driving in snow. You're not.”

“OK Ward”, Molly replied, her standard reply to an overly protective father.

They got the car back late the next afternoon. It had cost a hundred bucks for an alignment and two hundred and fifty for a tune up, which the guy at the garage promised would pay for itself in saved gas.

“I think we just got hosed”, said Jane as they left the garage. “We can figure out how much gas we were using going to work and compare that to what we use now.”

“Oh, I'm sure we got screwed”, Molly agreed. “But that's what guys do to women in garages.”

The rest of the afternoon and the next day were given over to washing clothing and packing. Several calls were placed to Molly's father to ascertain the weather to expect. Food was purchased to eat a rest stops, which would save money on restaurants. Campgrounds and public showers along the way were researched.

Pete showed up and stated that he had never really seen the Rockies and would like to ride along. Both Molly and Jane seriously considered saying yes, mostly for the gas money, until Nell showed up and announced that if Pete was going, she was going too. Four was just too many in the Ford Fiesta and the thought of the couple's bickering in the back seat of the tiny car for days on end curled the hair of both Jane and Molly.

A couple of hours later William showed up and announced that he would also like to ride along.

“Just you?” Asked Molly.

“Who else?” Asked William.

“Maybe Wilber or Pete”, noted Jane. “Pete's been fishing for a place in the car.”

“No, just me”, William assured them.

Molly and Jane looked at each other.

“Yeah, I guess so”, said Molly.

“But you have to be in the back seat for the whole time”, Jane added. “I'm not sitting back there.”

“Our packs will be back there too”, Molly cautioned. “But I guess you can stack those against one of the doors and have most of the seat.”

The departed the next morning at 9:00 AM. William traveled light because the trunk was already packed full and anything he brought would have to share the back seat with both him and the two back packs. Molly made him go back and get a sleeping bag and insolite pad, which they managed to cram into the already packed trunk.

The first leg of the trip really should have been through L.A., but Molly hated driving in L.A. and was loath to let anyone else drive her car there. So they turned up 126 at Ventura and cut across to the Pear Blossom Highway to Victorville, where they joined the 15 Freeway and began the journey to Las Vegas.

Entering the desert, William began to wax nostalgic about Hunter Thomson's “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas”. He seemed to know most of the book by heart and took to describing portions from the back seat. He insisted that they stop in Barstow and purchase a bottle of Wild Turkey, the appropriate drink for re-tracing Hunter's steps. Within an hour, both he and Jane were quite drunk and pretending to fire .357 magnums out the car windows. A little while after that they went to sleep, and Molly was grateful they had no LSD or anything else stronger than Wild Turkey and a little weed.

They made Las Vegas in the late afternoon and Molly shuddered at the creepy city. Jane and William slept though the experience. She continued on to Lake Mead National Recreation area where she turned South to find the campgrounds.

“Why are we off the Freeway?” William asked in a groggy voice.

“To find the campground”, Molly answered.

“I don't want to sleep in the dirt.”

“We have a ground cover”, Molly said.

“But I'll still have to piss in the weeds”, William countered.

“So what do you want”, Molly asked.

“I want to camp in a place with room service”, William whined.

“That's probably the most nelly thing ever said in Lake Mead National Forest.”

“Just find a hotel”, said William.

“We don't have money for a hotel.”

“I do”, said William. “Just find one.”

Molly pulled into a huge, stucco Rodeway Inn. It looked like a very large, unadorned barn with many windows.

“Place looks like a whorehouse for truckers”, said William.

“It's this or a campground”, Molly replied.

“OK.”

William went in and secured a room with two queen beds.

In the morning, as she took a hot shower, Molly was glad they had got the room. They had the s****y continental breakfast offered by the hotel and were off.

“That sausage tasted like a double order of home fried cat's a******s”, said William they pulled away. “It's gonna to haunt my gut for a month.”

They continued on through Utah on 15 and planned to catch I-70 at Sulphurdale.

“I heard you have to buy whiskey from a pharmacy in Utah”, said William, somewhere around Leeds Utah. “Let's stop and get a bottle of Turkey and see how that works.”

“You guys have Turkey”, Molly replied.

“Not much left”, said William. “And besides, that's not the point. I want to see how you buy it in a pharmacy. Do we need a prescription for it?”

“How should I know.”

So they stopped for gas at the next small town and Molly asked a guy at the other gas pump where they could get a bottle of Wild Turkey Whiskey. The guy just looked at her like she was the devil incarnate. Jane led William forward.

“This man is obviously gay. We're thinking something macho like Wild Turkey might help him.”

William nodded. The guy seemed really confused and suspicious.

“We don't touch the stuff ourselves”, Molly assured him.

“The pharmacy is just down the road on the left.” The guys gas pump clicked and he quickly replaced the nozzle. He hopped in his truck and was gone.

They found the pharmacy, requested the bottle of booze and were directed to a window in the back.

They passed a rack of cute signs, a display of high end candy and a greeting card display to arrive at a shuttered hole in the wall, such as where one might fill prescriptions for narcotics. The shutters opened.

“My I help you”, a guy in a lab coat asked.

“Yes, we need a fifth of Wild Turkey. Do we need a prescription for that?” William asked.

“No”, the guy said, frowning to show his disapproval.

He rustled around and came back to the window with the bottle, which he hammered down on the counter with a loud bang.

“Thanks”, said William, taking the bottle. The guy said nothing and merely glowered at the party. The woman at the cash register in the front also glowered at them. And, after inspecting William's drivers license, she asked William to sign a paper that signified he had taken the bottle.

“Is that legal?” William asked.

“If you don't sign, we don't sell it to you.”

William wrote, “I William of Santa Barbara California do hereby take this bottle of Wild Turkey”.

The woman inspected the note and then took his money.

Back in the car, William said: “I would recommend that those people all drink one of these bottles, then smoke a doob, then dose with ecstasy and then jump naked into a jacuzzi with a bunch of people they don't know. Would do them a world of good.”

Jane and William enjoyed victory shots from the bottle as they turned onto I-70 and continued on into Colorado.

Western Colorado along I-70 was disappointing to them. Mostly dry, rocky hills. Things didn't really get interesting until the reached Edwards and entered the Vail Valley. They left the freeway and traveled down Highway 6 so William could see the area. New condos, affluent shopping centers and luxury new homes.

“Thousand Oaks in the 1980's”, said Willaim.

“Or Newport Beach back in the day”, Molly replied. “I hope it doesn't go that way, high rises and all. But this is sort of nice. Expensive, but nice.”

The came to Avon with the Westin Hotel Gondola that traveled over the highway and up to the Beaver Creek ski area. Something that Molly found magical.

“Look! You can get to the ski area from the Westin lobby”, she pointed out to William.

Molly exited the Highway at the round about and traveled through town to her fathers home. A large split level slightly above the town. Molly's father was there to greet them.

“Hello”, said Molly, exiting the car. “We brought William. But it's OK. He traveled halfway across the country with us and never tried to ravish us.”

“A true gentleman”, her father replied.

“No, just gay”, said William as he crawled and wiggled from the back seat.

Molly wanted to slap William, but saw her dad was laughing.

That night they went to dinner at Montauk, an elegant seafood restaurant in Lionshead, one of the two main town centers of Vail, and accessed by taking the center town exit from I-70.

Vail was about ten miles East of Avon and it took about fifteen minutes to get there. As they closed in on the center town exit Molly told her father to continue on down to the Village exit. She wanted William to see how the Divide rose above the freeway. One of the most spectacular mountain scenes Molly had seen so far.

“That is impressive”, said William, gazing at the still snow covered range in the setting sunlight.

“You guys want to eat in the Village”, asked Molly's father. That's were the bar action is. There's only enough locals around this time of year to fill a bar or two and they like the Village.”

“Nah”, said Molly. “Let's try the seafood place. It sounds good and you've talked about it before.”

The took the Village exit, went under the bridge and then headed west on I-70, back to the center town exit. They parked in the Lionshead Parking structure, took the elevator down and crossed the street to the big entry gate. The big plaza was empty, literally something out of “Up From the Beach”. Most of the stores were closed.

“It's a ghost town”, said Jane.

“It is during mud season”, Molly's father replied. “But when the resort is open it would be hard to walk here. The bus stop over there would have a hundred people in it.”

Montauk was across the plaza where some lovely, large ironwork arches marked the walkway. They arrived at Montauk and it was apparent that Molly's father knew everyone in the place. The bartenders, the wait staff and most of the patrons.

“Hi Bjorn”, said someone from the corner. “Hospital still in business?”

“Yup”, her father replied.

“Well then I might come over and have my tonsils out.”

“Anytime” replied Molly's father.

They were seated and the owner came out to greet the group.

“So these are you lovely daughters”, he said.

“Yes”, her father replied. “And this is there friend William”.

“Hi William. And you are?”, he said pointing at Molly.

“Molly.”

“And you?”

“Jane.”

“Well, the waiter will get the menus over here in a sec. I've got to get back to the kitchen. Try the Mahi if you can.”

And with this he was off. It was not lost on Molly that her father had let the mistake about Jane's status remain in place. She debated raising the issue immediately, but decided to save it for later. Later she would not pop off and scream as she felt like doing now.

Wine was the first thing ordered. An excellent Chardonnay served in large glasses. The types of glasses for people who stayed in the nearby hotels and didn't have to drive home. Glasses meant to impress the well heeled patrons. Molly, Jane and William were half bombed after the first two.

“A very elegant place Mr. Peterson”, William said. “I'm a Joe's person myself and rarely get out into the really elegant Santa Barbara digs.”

“It's one of the top restaurants in Vail”, but I doubt if I would come here unless I got the locals discount. Everyone in here now lives around here and none of them are paying menu prices. Samuel, the owner, is good about that. He also lets the kids who work on the mountain eat here for basically the cost of the food, if the place isn't busy. Those kids make twelve or fifteen bucks an hour and normally wouldn't get to try a place like this.”

After dinner they walked the other way around the square and Molly's father showed them some of the public artworks. The “Rock Carvings” of skiers in the building walls, which were actually artfully molded concrete. And a colorful poll in the center of a square with panels sticking out like street signs. Various winter and summer Colorado scenes had been sculpted in the metal and brightly painted. The floor of the square was cobbled with the pattern seen in the streets of Paris.

They returned to the house and were shown to their rooms. After everyone was settled in, Molly made her way to the kitchen where she found her father sitting at an alcove table.

As she approached, he began: “I'm sorry for denying you guys tonight. I feel really bad about it. It was just complicated and I didn't feel like getting into it for some reason.”

“It made me feel really bad”, said Molly. “Are you ashamed of us?”

“I knew you would think that and that's why I couldn't sleep. But no, I'm not. I suppose I'm just getting used to everything.”

Molly was silent.

“We'll go back and announce your bonding on Saturday. Everyone will be there. I don't want you to feel this way.”

“It hurt me”, said Molly.

“Yes, I made a mistake and I'll try to correct it. Can you forgive me?”

“Yes”, said Molly. “It's kind of tough for all of us. Mom has kind of disowned me.”

“Oh, my God”, said her father.

“Yeah”, said Molly. “And I can't reach her to talk about it.”

“Well, we have each other”, her father replied.

“Yes, we do. And that means a lot. And we don't need to go back and make an announcement.”

And with this, Molly left and went back to her room.

The next day they met with a financial consultant who worked with Molly's father and he helped the fill out the paperwork for an SBA loan. One for a woman owned business. They would finish the task when the business was located and a business plan had been drawn up.

A couple of days later they met with the Realtor who had sold Molly's father his house in the Vail Valley. Her name was Monica Metz and she was about the same age as Molly, but much more formally dressed.

Molly's father began: “These two are looking to get out of their jobs in California. They need something that they can build up and that can support them. They're thinking about a wine bar and coffee shop or a small hotel.”

“And I assume you want to the property along with the business”, Monica replied.

“Yes”, said Molly's father.

“Well, there's really no such thing as a wine bar in Colorado”, Monica replied. “That sort of license doesn't exist here. So it's either a full fledged bar or a coffee shop without alcohol. And the liquor license is always a problem. Not an easy thing to handle. But if you have a bed a breakfast, the licenses are easy and you can give wine an beer away to the guests, not sell it, but give it away. And maybe get

the cost back on the price of he room.”

“I think I'd prefer to look into a small hotel or B and B first anyway”, said Molly. “That seems to have a better chance at an assured income. Who knows if someone is going to visit your coffee shop or not?”

Jane nodded.

Monica was able to run a state wide search and a day later she had the results. The most promising, according to her father, was in Nederland Colorado.

“You two like Big Sur, so you'll really like Nederland”, he chuckled. “It's a bohemian civilization that puts Big Sur to shame.”

“Where is it?” Asked Jane.

“It's a mountain town above Boulder. Where CU is. Another town you two would like.”

The next day the four of them made the two hour drive down I-70 to Idaho Springs and then up 119 through Central City, Black Hawk and Rollinsville to Nederland. Molly's father had Molly stop and park in Central City so that they could get out and walk around.

“It looks like a movie set”, said Jane, gazing at the 19^th Century street.

“Do they have cowboys come out and have fake gun fights for the tourists?” Molly asked.

“Sometimes”, her father replied. “But this is all real. The town kind of got abandoned after the mining played out, but somehow the buildings survived. When gambling was legalized a few years back, the town was restored.”

Molly and Jane were disappointed that the picturesque town offered little more than garish casinos. Store fronts not devoted to gambling were closed.

“When they legalized gambling, all of the property owners got their properties cleared for gambling”, Molly's father explained. “ They thought they'd make a mint. But having the property cleared for gambling means the owner has to pay a gaming tax. And it's high enough to make the building too expensive to be anything but a casino. A regular store can't cut it. So the town is sort of sterile. One liquor store, one pot shop and one mini-market. And about a hundred empty casinos. Some summer day we'll go up to Estes Park and I'll show you what a small town with a tourist industry really looks like.”

They cruised North through the pleasant mountain country. Just before Rollinsville was a spectacular view of the Divide. And just after the small town was a classic mountain lake framed by a peak Molly would learn was Bald Mountain. They dropped down into Nederland and met Monica Metz at the Mountain People's CO-OP. She was sitting on the porch when they arrived. They joined her and ordered coffee and scones.

“This is one of the nice features of Ned”, she said. “The city owns the co-op. It's sort of a Whole Foods, natural foods store, but it's affordable. If you're a member, you work here a couple of days per month and get 30% off of everything. Why don't you go inside and look around?”

The two entered the store and saw a woman about their own age, with long dread locks, behind the counter. The two moved around the country store and saw high quality produce and products, everything but a meat department. Monica was right, it resembled Whole Foods.

“This is a really nice place”, Jane whispered. “I like this town.”

“I do too”, said Molly.

They took took Monica's larger car to the hotel. It was located back on the road from where they came. Up a series of switch backs to a higher section of country. It was called the “Mountain Sun Inn” and had a restaurant attached. A restaurant with a large deck from which the surrounding peaks could be seen. The runs on the nearby Eldora Ski Area seemed to spell out the words, “I HID” on the side of he mountain. Inside the restaurant, above the windows, a mural of the peaks had been and painted and the name of each peak was indicated.

The hotel itself was old and funky. Mostly unpainted barn wood. But this was a calculated effect and the hotel otherwise appeared very well cared for. There were eight rooms, an office and a small owner's apartment behind the office.

Molly and Jane instantly fell in love with the place and resolved to spend the rest of their lives there.

“Here's your cozy mountain retreat”, Molly said to William.

“Yes, but one room simply must be outfitted with a Franklin Stove”, William replied. “So that I can sit by the fire and watch the sun go down over the peaks.”

Molly and Jane nodded.

After they had turned the Fiesta back to Avon, Molly said, “This is it dad. Jane and I want it. It's perfect and the town in perfect.”

“But it doesn't pencil out very well”, her father replied. “It's expensive and it only has eight rooms. The restaurant makes money, but someone owns the business there. And they will for at least five more years. They would just be paying rent to you. But it's sort of a rich man's toy. A landmark to brag about owning, but not really that much of a business.”

“Dadddddd!”, shouted Molly, her standard expression of frustration with her father since she was five or six years old.

“There's a lot of property in Colorado, so we don't have to buy the first thing we look at. And that place is going to be on the market for a long time.”

Molly and Jane dreamed of the Nederland hotel all the way back to Avon.

They looked at Victorian Bed and Breakfasts in Leadville, Small hotels and B and B's in Buena Vista and Salida. And summer hotels high in the mountains, in tiny towns such as Elmo. They even made it to Estes Park, another place Molly and Jane fell in love with, but they recoiled at the prices there.

They finally found a candidate in the lovely little town of Twin Lakes. Located right at the base of a flank of 14,000 foot Mt. Massive and on the edge of two lovely, large mountain lakes. Lakes from which the town took it's name. The property consisted of eight cabins ranging in size from two bedrooms to studios. Some had fireplaces. The view from the roadside, facing towards Aspen, was impressive, a peak rising thousands of feet above them.

The cabins dated from the 1950's and were made of milled logs. They were dispersed around a large yard and carts had to be used to haul supplies to three of them. Out front there was a cabin that served as an office with an owner's apartment in back. A very large studio with a kitchenette at one end. The town itself consisted of three square blocks of houses. Lovely Victorians and log cabins mixed in with the more modern homes. There was one general store, open only in the summer. The nearest commercial centers were Leadville, about twenty miles away, and Aspen, about thirty miles over Independence Pass.

The price was right and the odds of appreciation very high.

“There are very few reasonably priced places like this left in Colorado”, said Molly's father. “Not with this scenery and the lakes. And this close to Aspen. This will be a very elegant area very soon. If I were you two, I would think long hard about this one.”

“I'm in”, said William. “This is a wonderful, little cozy place. It's what I imagined. And your dad's right. You don't usually find property in a spectacular place like this that you can afford.”

Molly and Jane wandered the town. They wanted a small town in the country, but this was a really small town. And smaller still because most of the homes were not even occupied, they served as summer vacation homes for people in Denver. Besides the store, there were a couple of bars in a couple of other hotels, and that was about it. And like the store, these were not open in the winter.

They crossed the road at the visitor's center, a large two story log cabin that had once been the Red Robin Saloon, a notorious brothel frequented by the miners back in the 1880's. They followed a path a few hundred yards up to a lookout point.

“Oh, my God!” Said Molly. “Look at that! I've never seen anything like this before. Have you?”

“No”, Jane replied. “I don't know what to say. This is amazing. Spectacular.”

The peaks in the mountain range before them all averaged over 14,000 feet. The lower slopes were covered with aspen that had only just budded leaves the week prior. They glowed bright green in the afternoon sun. The peaks above the tree line still had a great deal of snow on them, with the grey rocks poking through. And there were pine forests with millions of trees. You could see for miles from here. There was a canyon between two of the peaks that looked like it could be hiked. The two stood there holding hands for a long time, transfixed by the view. The full force of the Rockies.

“This is a good place”, Jane finally said.

“Yeah, it is. This will be a good home for us.”