BACK IN 'MERICA
LANDED IN THE SOUTH AND FLEW TO THE NORTH
This was the most peaceful ease back into America yet. Including going through TSA. Until I got to “The Big D” – Dallas.
Everything had gone smoothly by the time I reached my farewell gate at Charles de Gaulle. My Uber arrived early, and both of my bags — each 1.5 kg over the limit — were checked in with a wink from the kind woman at the desk without any extra charge. Security was a breeze too, though I held my breath the entire time. I had tucked my heavy-duty Kryptonite bike lock into my carry-on just an hour before leaving, after multiple Google searches assured me it was allowed. Still, when they flagged it, I whipped out my trusty search results — in English — which seemed to throw them off just enough to earn me another approving nod from the head of security. Greenlight!
Wildly enough, they didn’t bat an eye at the cast iron French Staub skillet in my bag — something my mother had (ironically) smuggled into France from America for me a year ago. Honestly, with the right grip, aim, and force, it could qualify as a weapon. But who cares. Don’t draw more attention, I thought to myself.
Now that I was waved through security and taking in oxygen again, I decided I too needed a coffee to wash down my final viennoiserie — a Pain au lait Ganache from Aux Merveilleux. The ONLY hot cup of Joe near gate B47 was fitting to say the least. As I found it at, Mickey D’s. Leaving France as a true American — fueled by a McCafé.
By the time I landed in Dallas, I was starving and so ready to see my sweet cousin Meagan — who swooped in 20 mins after wheels down — to take me off airport grounds for a salad and a spin. About 20 minutes into the drive, I admitted to her that I was getting a little anxious inching so far away from the airport. We were way off course, and I had a connecting flight to catch. She’d gotten turned around on, oh, just in the giant spaghetti bowl of interstates she was navigating in that major city of hers. How does she do this everyday??! We squeezed in the speediest lunch and chat. A total highlight of my American welcome home. That is… until I saw my dancing parents. (More on that soon.)
Getting dropped back off I made my way into security feeling confident. Alas, Dallas tried to put a kink in my ease. They tried to forbid me from brining on my cast iron skillet. Evidently in the USA this heavy as led (quite literally) item, that could kill a person in one sling to the head, is forbidden to take as a carry on. But instead of treating a fellow Southern American with a little TLC… they treated me like a second class citizen who was purposefully trying to get one over on them. At this point, it was 1am in Paris, so I had been traveling for a solid 18 hours and was on the brink of a hysterical cry. Lawd did I have one. Just briefly though until I found myself at the American Airlines check-in counter pleading for help.
Through my tears I spotted the kindest looking gentleman, Keith. When he and his fellow colleague finished with their clients at the same time, and both waived for the ‘next guest’ to come to them, I kept my eyes locked in Keith’s direction until he looked at me. I jumped in his line. I had a good feeling about this souther gentleman… and spoiler alert… my intuition was right!
I explained my situation. I told him how my international flight just before had offered all carry-on bags to be checked for free since they were at max capacity and didn’t have the cabin space. I told him that at this particular moment I was regretting the decision not to have done that since this predicament had now occurred. When I explained that his fellow airline workers were forbidding me to cross through the red tape because of my cast iron skillet he looked shocked and then started grinning. Within seconds he was painting a picture for me of his beloved inherited skillet that was his mother’s mother. Jack pot! I had struck a sentimental cord! With that, I just knew I was going to get my skillet checked, at no cost to me. And to add butter to the cornbread (what?!! I’m in the south now and that’s about the best thing on the planet to make IN any cast iron), I went on and on about how great his food must taste from his generational skillet given the cardinal rule of not washing it to keep it seasoned. He agreed with a nod and a smile, and then started feverishly typing until he found a “loophole” for me. “I’m gonna mark this as a Duty Free item – let’s say it’s ‘alcohol,” he said. In came a joke of mine to seal the deal. “Is that because we both need a stiff drink right about now?” He laughed, as I had hoped he would – and then tagged my bag, asked if I wanted to stuff it with more items to lighten my shoulder bag load (which I did! In come the lock and the silver and all the other things that were weighing me down) and then he put it on the belt and wished me a great flight. I was back to having an easy time.
And to my delight, when I boarded this flight, I sat by the chicest woman. She had just moved to South Carolina from Pennsylvania and was as happy as a lark to be close to the beach. And I was happy that my very touristy beach home town was attracting people of her style. (Picture Martha's Vineyard in the fall.) We talked the whole way back. (Thank god. Because by the time I got to my seat I was in full on body electric – my limbs were so tired that they would NOT stop moving. I was desperate for the distraction.) She told me that her son was “working at a place called Down Wind Sails?” Hummmm what?? That was the very same place that my sister and I had worked every summer during high school and college. Small world! She too shared with me that one of her sisters was married to a Frenchman and that they had lived in Paris for ten years before they both decided to move back to NYC. She told me he (the frenchman) was the one who wanted to move back more than her sister. They both speak French to their two little girls and send them to an English & French school in Cobble Hill, Brooklyn. I can just picture this chic couple now with their French American babies being the coolest ones on the block in NYC. I loved her. Michelle, my seat mate.
In come the parent dance. Arriving to MYR I was greeted by a very enthusiastic pair of parents. Both my mother and father had come to the airport to welcome me home — and when they spotted me they both started jumping up and down. It looked precious and like they were doing jumping jacks. They carried on until I got into their arms. Precious!
Bags then came out with ease, Joe pulled up to retrieve us with ease, and Boggs jr was snoozing away with ease in the back seat — he had fallen sound asleep on the way to the airport to pick up his favorite aunt on his mama’s side (only aunt on his mama’s side — but his favorite nonetheless) for my 11pm pickup (5am Paris time). Boodle!
Easing back into American life has come with … boat rides, kayaking with Boggs, Goldie Hawn walks and administering her daily IV (my sweet strong girl), on-time FedEx delivery with my Send My Bags from France, early morning coffees on the porch with my mama, lunch at the Sea Captain’s House with my pops, full breakfast plates at The Trestle Bakery & Café, daily off-leash cemetery strolls with Goldie, my mama and Martha (where we met a man walking his pooch who used to be a professional baseball player for the Miami Marlins! And if you think that’s cool, he also spoke fluent French! We said our farewell ‘à plus tard’ in our wannabe native tongue as we left), and trip planning. Yes. I have enjoyed Conway and have looked forward to going to see friends in both Charleston and NYC. So, I booked trips.
While in Conway though over the weekend, I walked down to the Saturday Market with my mom—our favorite weekly tradition. Nestled beneath the charming downtown bridge, the market buzzed with people and overflowed with vibrant, fresh produce. En route there she asked me “Who do you hope to see the most?” I answered in one second, “Richard Lovelace.” My first boss. I almost always see him at our market, though my mom mentioned he wasn’t in town. But to both of our surprise — he was! He ended up being my last hug and visit with his wife, Rebecca, on our way out and their way in. Greenlight!
[SIDEBAR: I worked for Richard when I was just 14, maybe 15 — I can’t remember exactly. I just know I was too young to drive myself to his office at one point. He had a pet parrot in his office that would randomly squawk out $%@# and $%&damnit on repeat. What’s the saying? Monkey hear, monkey say? Richard had a colorful vocabulary, especially when reviewing law cases.
Every evening, after he’d left for the day and the rest of us were still there filing and tidying up, I’d hear his secretary, Cathy, go into his office and softly say, “Jesus, Jesus, Jesus” to the bird. She once told me she did it in hopes of teaching it something other than… French.
It was one of the best jobs I’ve ever had! I loved working for him and his team.]
I too got to see Jenni Lynn — my Grammy nominated bluegrass singer songwriter musician friend — who invited me to her concert that night at a local bar. I got to hug on Monica Yates — my sweet friend who married my high-school sweetheart, Bradley — and smooch on their boodles who were in tow in their wagon. I stayed squatted down to their level during our visit and watched as their daughter put on “her lips” (her mama’s lipstick). She is, maybe, 2.5 years old. All girl!!
I biked Joy Ride (she was tuned up for my return. So sweet!) over to see Rachel, Quinn, and Caria — my sister from another mother and her boodles — while her husband, Miles, switched places with me. He went to Europe to direct his film just as I had landed stateside. Rachel and I grew up playing lost in the woods in both of our massive yards and the stream and woods that connected our homes. It did my heart good to get my arms around her! And speaking of heart full...
Later that night, I got to fill up again with Maggie — my hometown best friend — and her girls. We met at a bar downtown to listen to Jenni’s band play (I couldn’t believe that I timed my arrival for that one Saturday night that she had a gig downtown! Greenlight!). When I walked in, I told Maggie “This place has changed! It looks nothing like it did.” Maggie killed me with her response, “What do you mean? Because there aren’t any bras hanging from the ceiling? Or did you mean because the stripper pole is gone? Or because it’s well-lit and there are families here now with their children? Or is it because you can’t chain smoke inside? Or is it that the ‘office’ isn’t an employee’s ‘bedroom’ any longer? You mean those changes?” We were hysterical. Yes all of those changes. My sweet country town has turned into quite the place to be. And this bar, Chantis, that used to be all those things listed above, is an … establishment!
And of course, Conway has delivered lots and lots of snuggles and kisses and walks and spoon-feeding my Goldie Hawn! Love of my life. She is doing great by the way and I thank you for everyone who continues to ask! I am proud to say that at her last vet visit I learned that she had gained a full pound and a half and that her numbers had improved. Her doctor was surprised — but I wasn’t. My girl is a survivor!
Sunday I made my way down to Chuck Town, CHS, the Holy City — where I wheeled into the Old Village around 3pm to scooped up Blaise. I drove us directly to Sullivan’s Island where I pulled a beach girl / climbed in the back of the car and changed into my “bop suite” (name for bathing suite in the AC family household), before we walked the beach and parked it on the sand for hours … gabbing and spying dolphins.
Charleston was an upgrade! And such a delightful surprise of faces — as I knew it would be. This time coming in town, I wanted to keep it quiet. I naturally get a little overwhelmed to see everyone during one trip so this time I decided to keep a low profile because I know I’ll be back… soon!
After Blaise and my sandy visit on the “bonch” (another AC family household name, this time for beach) we drove around the island admiring all the new houses — like the one that was listed for $11million (we looked it up) on the ocean and looking like it was the set for a Ralph Lauren Summer Campaign shot in Nantucket. We landed at Longboard, a, new to me, restaurant for my evening beer and her glass of wine. We could have stayed gabbing all night long but I had precious boodles downtown to get to!
After dropping her, I went straight to Prioleau Street, where I had two little boys ready to greet their “Aunt Caroline.” (They have trouble understanding that it’s Anne Caroline — and hey! I’ll take it! I am honored that they call me Aunt!). In the garage I triple read my instructions sent by their mama, and my dear friend, Lindsay, about how to get into their condo building. And after a few mixed letters and numbers combination punched into the elevator, the doors opened directly into their apartment. When I walked in, I spotted two boodles snuggled on the couch with their mama staring at me with excitement. I could have EATTEN them. Took no time for the smooches to start and the stories to begin. Banks (3) and Van (5) had warmed up to me in a matter of nanoseconds. As I do, I started rubbing Van’s back, arms, legs… whatever was near me. When he came to a complete stop I could tell that he loved it. So I continued until he put his other leg out for me to massage that one next. Ahhhh! Best moment! (Miller’s children are too old to let me do this with them (play Massuse) so I ate it up). Banks, was wide open — making us laugh and keeping our attention with his dinner interruptions that his brother “was taking up all of the space in the bed”, just to sneak in to the kitchen to see what us grownups were up to.
It was the absolute best night! I’m simply IN LOVE with their family.
And the next morning, Olive — the newest (9 month old) star in the Marko Family — made an appearance and my jaw hurt. She is edible! She had me at first “coo.” I took her in my arms instantly and ate her up before I handed her over to Clair Bear (what the children call their sweet nanny — who’s dimples don’t quit!), so that we could take the boys for breakfast.
Banks, Van, Lindsay, Evan, and Aunt Caroline all rode on their golf cart (me, sandwiched in between the boys… heaven… while Banks sporadically yelled the word “echo” each time we passed a garage) through town stopping off at Sorelle (where I ran into a college friend, Susu. I was her Pledge Mom in our college sorority) for adult coffees and kid donuts, and Alcove Market for adult egg sandwiches and kid yogurts and fruit.
Next, I dropped them off and then strolled down to Elisa’s charming home on Ladson Street to have a French Press out in her backyard with her, her sister in law, Carolina, and her mother. All three had visited with me (and made me a great favor to bring two bags back with them to Charleston) in Paris months and months ago. After the alarm sounded that it was time to go, I got to escort Elisa to her kid’s day camp where we picked up her four precious boodles. Here, Charleston got smaller again, when I ran into one of my sweet friends, Jillian, and her three kiddos. Upgrade!
Laura and I met for lunch at Fast & French that day under umbrellas outside to shield us from the INSANELY steamy southern day. She too invited me last minute to join her at the Chamber Music at the Dock Street Theater for Spoleto. Upgrade! It was incredible! I don’t think either of us stopped smiling or dancing in place the entire time to the violins were played and the guest singer belted.
The next day I too ran into Dorete, a colleague of mine at the Charleston Library Society. We had an impromptu downtown walk around the Battery and South of Broad. Upgrade!
I spent some quality time with Angie Hranowsky in her interior design studio and after, I had the pleasure of dinning with two besties at The Ordinary — where as soon as I stepped foot in the door I spotted the most attractive table of people waving me down: Melissa, Ted, Whitley and Nate. We had a ball! It was such a joy to be with all of them! I have missed my people who keep me in stitches! We laughed and drank and ate and shared all the things. Upgrade!
Mike Lata, the restaurant’s (and Charleston’s) famed chef, came over to speak to us. Something I have also missed in Paris. Being sought out by people of the community who recognize me! I relished in this moment. And, since Whitley was with us, an A-Lister in the restaurant because she and her sister designed this gorgeous place, he sent over a tasting of his new green bean salad with a soft boiled egg. Surprise and delight! It was delicious, along with all the oysters and my favorite — smoked fish pâté.
En route home that night, I stopped off to Jeni’s for a child’s scoop of my favorite flavor and walked / licked it at a snails pace until I reached the corner of King and Beaufain when I immediately regretted not going to Off Track instead. Either way, ice cream stroll after an incredible dinner in downtown Charleston? That is bliss!
Charleston continued to grow smaller for me still by my last day when I got to see Jill and Ray Weeks. So happy to have shared with Jill that I had just told Fanny a few weeks ago about how she was my Charlotte to my Web here in Charleston. When Jill’s house was getting shot by Architectural Digest she invited all of the young influential women in the city who inspired her to come take a private tour. I was lucky enough to have been invited. And that’s where I met all of my (now) best friends in Charleston. Jill started my web of community. I am forever grateful to her and always get so excited when I spot my chic Charleston muse.
Later that day, en route to see Fanny, I got a special honk and stop from Dana — my precious friend (expecting a baby girl in no time). She had blown her car horn as she said “I can spot that strut anywhere!” Upgrade! She giggled as she came to a stop for a short chat and smooch on Queen Street.
My heart was full with all of these love moments and small town run-ins!! Each time I visit Charleston I am reminded me how lucky I am to have friends in this pocket of the world. They light me up and vice versa.
And at the final hour, I was able to see my Fanny. My sweet, chic, French, loving, happy, beautiful, muse of a friend, Fanny! She met me at Harken for an afternoon treat and gab. She was radiating! She had had the best time being back (since early May) and told me that she and Patrick only have three more weeks until they are Paris bound again. She said that she was already missing Charleston. She has said the same to me when she is about to leave Paris of course too. She has the best of both worlds and will be going back at such a great time of year — to enjoy France in her blooming beauty. It filled my heart to laugh with her and share our thoughts about the future. She has been a part of nearly every step of my Parisian path — so in some ways, she knows more about what’s going on with me than many of my American friends do (the day-to-day life decisions, the difficulties of fitting in and my visa approval process, and all the other girl talk we had each week over coffees at our watering hole, Recto Verso).
As I drove home — to make it to Goldie’s vet visit, the words from my very wise friend, Blaise, came to mind. “AC, before you can make a decision on where you want to settle, you need to get to NYC asap and feel it out again. Walk the streets, see your friends, get inspired and feel wether you want to be there. You can’t make an informed decision without this datapoint.”
So, I took her advice. I booked my flight that night when I got back to Conway.
And, as of yesterday, I landed in Upstate New York, where I am publishing this dispatch.
I am excited to spend some quality time in East Chatham with Marissa, Hannis and their two cats: Sid and McGrover. To pop over to Manhattan to see Fiona and Erica and view an apartment I have my eye on. Snuggle down with Vivian in Brooklyn for some belly laughs and wine. And roam about NYC for some needed exploration and inspiration!
After New York I’ll get to pop down to Richmond to meet a fresh boodle, Eddie, and smooch on my godson, Jimmy. And laugh hard with their mama, and my best friend, Jane, and her husband Patrick before I end my week in Myrtle Beach with my family!
It’s been an easy return — given all these loving Welcome Homes.
Until next week…
Xxxo (from the big apple) ac