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Palm Springs

June 24, 2023

It was easier to part with the Madison house after another family had lived in it. It felt less ours upon our return. My dishes, pots, and pans were in different places. I’d sweep and discover an earring under the bed, or a dog’s chew toy between the cushions.

The girls came home to clean out their rooms. It was emotional to let go of the space that had provided us with so much comfort all these years, and it also felt right to transplant our remaining belongings into a little condo near the capitol with both of our names on the mortgage. We had a pied- à -terre of our own, one that would allow us to enjoy the glory of Madison summers and still leave for long stretches in Palm Springs, where we’d bought the condo Jeanie and Gene had rented. Poor Gene had passed away in March, and Jeanie was in a memory-care facility in Regina.

Now we were the ones complaining about emergency assessments for the roof, the heat in the hot tub not working, and the gardeners revving up their leaf blowers before eight in the morning.

It was official: we were snowbirds. Our winter in Palm Springs had been as much about finding each other as it was about moving into a new stage of life.

Grant splurged on a new car that he bought from a legitimate dealer: an EV truck that he could drive on the dirt paths to the hiking trails. Already, the bumper was filling up with stickers. In the middle, we placed one Dort bought for Grant that said PEOPLE TELL ME I’M CONDESCENDING. THAT MEANS I TALK DOWN TO PEOPLE. On the left was his old College of the Mounds sticker that he’d peeled off the Prius before it was towed away. He’d affixed it to the bumper with superglue. And on the right, a palm tree next to the words PS I LOVE YOU, right next to a sticker with Bucky Badger. The vanity plate said GNHKNG, “gone hiking.”

Grant let the job in Omaha go, and we decided that I’d work for Melody in Palm Springs. While Grant recuperated, he worked part time at Revivals and began writing a book about finding a new life philosophy while hiking (although he was still banned from the Agua Caliente Reservation).

I was invited to be part of a show of amateur artists at the Desert Art Center. On display were paintings of Melody in her fur hat playing mah-jongg next to the mountain, Jeanie and Gene’s gnarled feet in their matching rubber sandals, Cassie meditating, Hobie walking ahead on a hiking trail with Audrey staring back from his pack, Grant as Grambo, the Husbands stretching up to the sky in their metallic bodysuits (they were making a killing after being featured on Goop—alongside the photo I’d taken of them—and had bought a house in Movie Colony), Coco in the laundry room, smoking a cigarette.

At last, I’d allowed myself to see and capture what I found beautiful.

The ranch was the perfect place for a wedding. The sky was clear and bright, and the smoke trees had exploded into an opaque yet somehow neon-purple bloom as they always do around the summer solstice. The mountains in the background were steady and unchanged, nature’s unconditional love.

A string quartet played Vivaldi, while behind them a dance floor was set up with the DJ from Streetbar with his trademark angel wings and KGAY hat, ready to spin some tunes. All were in the mood for a party as they milled around, waiting for the ceremony to begin.

Coco and Hobie held hands. March and Simeon cooed over Thomas and Raul’s new baby, Crispin (the “littlest Arnold-Little”), while the Husbands and Octavia did what they do best: infuse the atmosphere with energy and make everyone feel special.

Cassie, resplendent in a flowy dress and halo made of pressed wildflowers, stood in the center of the guests. She rang some chimes, indicating that it was time for the ceremony to begin. “Please take off your shoes so we can connect with Mother Earth, and gather holding hands in a circle to unite in the present,” Cassie said.

Basil kicked off his shoes. “You ready? Finally?” He smiled at me. “Not many men go from being a husband to best man.”

I pointed at Sasha, holding a bouquet of wildflowers. “And not many ex-wives become the maid of honor.”

“Symmetry.”

I wore the dress I’d bought at Trina Turk. It was wrong for the season, but right for the occasion. Grant wore Melody’s father’s Smoke Tree Ranch insignia bolo tie. Grant was still thin, but he’d thankfully shaved his beard. March and Dort stood on either side of him.

“You know,” I said to Grant, “I think everyone should wait thirty years before deciding to get married.”

“You sure are sanguine about it.”

“This is the most heteronormative moment of my life,” Dort said.

We all fell quiet as Cassie began to walk around, smudging. “The sage is for cleansing. Let’s begin by releasing what we don’t need from our thoughts. Release what doesn’t serve you. Create a space that is clear and uncluttered. Fresh and new.”

Grant and I held hands.

Next, Cassie lit a stick and walked around us, waving it with intensity. “I ask that the plant spirit of palo santo infuse this space with blessing.” The burning wood was sweet smelling, and it mingled with the scent of creosote. “Now I light the candles in the corners to call in the six directions: north, south, east, west, Mother Earth and Father Sky.” Next, she walked around us with singing bowls. The sound was so true and clear that it was impossible not to be moved by it.

There was no question Cassie would officiate. After all, she’d helped us find each other again.

Some wild rabbits hopped around the shrubs. The mountains were golden now in the summer heat. I would never be able to look at them the way I did when we’d first arrived, as simply pretty and dramatic. Now I knew they were teeming with life, danger, and beauty, and they were a constant reminder of how quickly life can change.

I looked deep into Grant’s eyes when I said, “I promise to show more emotion, relax, make myself vulnerable, look you in the eyes, be congruent with my yeses and always keep you close.” Grant spoke of the wisdom he learned in the mountains, of the peace that comes when you stop thinking of what comes next, of ditching your entire operating system. He said, “I promise to stick around and never get lost. And I promise to love, honor, respect, and take care of you.” He smiled. “And always make sure you are warm.”

We exchanged rings and kissed, and Cassie declared us married with a final blessing.

“If you’re not at home in your heart,” she said, “then you’re not at home anywhere.”