I met Faith one rainy day in Chinatown.
I came in to escape a downpour, and there she was in her raincoat, sipping coffee and smiling. She was the most beautiful woman I ever saw, but more than that, I was captivated by her radiant smile.
Her eyes brightened in recognition—as if she had been waiting for me all her life.
I’ve never been suave, especially with women—I’m terribly bashful and socially inept, but with Faith, it was different.
I walked over to her table grinning as if we planned to meet, and said; “I think we’ve both been rained upon enough today. May I join you?”
She was wearing a colorful scarf to keep her hair dry and she took it off, shook out her bright copper locks and lit up the room. “Buy me lunch, and I’ll say yes.”
How could I refuse?
Now, I’m standing by our curtainless window staring at gloomy sky, white drop cloths over the furniture and wondering how the years sped by.
“I’m worried about our finances, Jay.”
Her brow was furrowed with worry lines.
She had curled up on one end of the couch, clinging to a brown velour throw cushion as if it were a teddy bear.
“Why worry, Babe? It always works out. You know writers—it’s a fine madness, but all it takes is one best seller and we’re back in the black again.”
“But I always feel I’m in the black, Jay—and it’s not a good place to be—under a dark cloud, uncertain what the future may bring.”
“Don’t we always get by?”
She shifted uncomfortably, her face a scowl, as she stared into the fire. “We do get by somehow, but it can’t go on forever, Jay. Whatever happened to that old adage about saving for a rainy day?”
“There’s no writers’ pension fund if that’s what you mean. But you knew that when you married me.”
I knew my words had an edge, but I also knew she had a point. I’m a natural pessimist and figure I’m only one bad decision away from losing everything. Maybe that’s why I act reckless.
“It’s okay for you, Jay, but you’re gambling with my future here too. If something happened to you, where would I be?”
“Probably married to a banker from Bay Street.”
I regretted the words the moment they were out of my mouth—it was a low blow.
Faith was a commodities investor working for a major bank. She was all futures—investments and dividends. I was free-spirited and careless.
Maybe that’s why it worked for us then—but that was then, and this was now. She had a point, and I couldn’t always go by the emotion of the moment.
“Look Babe, I’m sorry—you’re right. I’m wrong. I’ll make an appointment at the bank tomorrow. I promise.”
And that’s how my life took an unexpected U-turn, like the day I was just trying to escape the rain.
As I look back now, I can see I was just trying to escape my pain.