Sunday was my last full day in Boston. It was also Father’s Day. And my wedding anniversary. Lucky Number 13. I was missing home intensely. CousinP had extended an invitation to his sister’s home in Lexington for brunch. His parents, Sparring Partner’s aunt and uncle, as well as his siblings and their respective families would all be there. Some I had met before, coincidently enough, either at our wedding or in subsequent visits to Boston in the past for family events. Everyone was very kind, but I still couldn’t help but feel like a third wheel even in a house full of people.
One of Sparring Partner’s cousins had her son there who was about the same age as Aitch. Seeing him made me miss Aitch more than I had in the previous days. CousinP and I were the last relatives to leave so I returned to the hotel sometime early afternoon.
I had made plans in the afternoon to meet with Karen, who blogged briefly about her secondary infertility a couple years ago. I suggested she meet me at the hotel. In the meantime, Pamplemousse dropped by my room with some wine. It wasn’t long before Head Banger, Millie and E. stopped by as well. Millie, the genius and a seasoned traveler, carried a baby monitor with her to listen for L.E. who napped in the room next to mine. When Karen arrived at the hotel, I asked her to come up to my room (*wink wink nudge nudge*) so I could make introductions before heading out on our own.
It goes without saying – but I will anyway – that once again we made our way to Faneuil Hall. We decided to eat at Tia’s, which is where I had had lunch with CousinP. Since we were sitting outside, we were able to take in the beautiful and sometimes bizarre views, including what appeared to be a teenager taking his toddler sister for a walk on a leash while he texted.
Karen and I occupied the table at Tia’s for quite a while just talking about everything and nothing. It was a relaxing way to wrap up my vacation. We thought we’d top off the evening with nightcap at one of the Cheers franchise bars located in Faneuil Marketplace. The place was quiet, with a handful of tables occupied. We were asked by what we could only assume was the “hostess” if we were eating or just drinks. When we responded that we were there for just cocktails and that we wanted to be seated outside, she motioned towards three tables in a corner and told us those were the only tables available to ilk like us, and that we would have to place our orders at the bar as they didn’t provide service.
Oh, yes, she did! OK, she didn’t say “ilk” but the implication was there. Of course, when we sidled up to the bar, we couldn’t even order immediately because the bartender was off doing who knows what and the bar-back was…well, bar-backing. Needless to say, we only had one drink each and by then it was getting late and Karen still had an hour trip home.
My flight home didn’t leave until noon on Monday, but I have recurring nightmares (whether I’m traveling or not) about being late for a flight due to packing issues so I made sure to pack up what I could when I arrived back at my hotel. Due to nerves, I was up again fairly early the next morning to finish packing.
Millie had generously offered to drive me in their rental car to the airport, and suggested I knock on her door about 10:00 a.m., but with me up and about and with nothing to do, I went to the Pamplemousse’s door and knocked quietly. And then I had to knock again and again and because I don’t take No for an answer, I knocked yet again, louder. Finally Head Banger came to the door and ushered me in to find P still in bed. We cuddled for a bit before I made my way back down to Millie’s door and got her out of bed, too. Yes, I’m an asshole.
A few minutes later, we were all standing by the rental car and I was hugging Pamplemousse good-bye, missing her already. She and Millie were staying in Boston for a few more days to take in more of the sites. Millie then dropped me off at the airport where more hugs and good-byes were exchanged.
My flight out of Boston was just a shuttle to LaGuardia in New York, which if you can, avoid. I had to leave the airport’s terminal and take a shuttle bus to an adjacent terminal and thereby go through checking-in and security all over again. If my layover had been only an hour, I wouldn’t have made it. It was dumpy, crowded and without a coffee shop in sight! Thankfully my flight from Chicago to the local airport was maggot-free and now I just had to make the two hour drive home.
My first stop once on my home stomping grounds? Runza. Sweet, sweet Runza. How I missed your home-made burgers and crinkle fries! And Pepsi!!
A fabulous trip all-in-all. I actually feel a bit empowered now that I’ve traveled like a big girl across the country by myself. I also know that if Sparring Partner pulls the stick out of his ass long enough to take a trip with me, it will difficult to convince me not to stay in the general area of Faneuil Hall.
There are many wonderful things about living in the Corn Belt, but one of the major downsides is that all the wonderful people I met on my trip would be hard-pressed to actually make plans to visit me here. It’s beautiful, but as for sites to see and things to do? Not so much. Maybe Carhenge? Or the Zoo? Maybe the College World Series? An afternoon’s drive to Mt. Rushmore perchance?? Better to just plan on sitting on our deck with a drink or four and fend off body-snatching mosquitoes and take in the amazing sunset. I’ll even serve your drinks and not make you sit at a segregated table.