A Hopeless House Guest

I met my then mother-in-law's friend, Abby, when I was twenty five and she was forty - I was instantly enchanted.

She wore silky fitting white linen trousers that stopped just below her knees and never seemed to wrinkle, a loose, v cut sleeveless top with vertical red stripes that left her midriff bare and was barefoot. Her hair, rich and auburn and tinged with grey at the sides was cut short and chunky, it moved freely with her every movement. A single strand of pearls and a plain gold band on her right hand were her only jewelry - For dress up, I add an ankle bracelet! she told me with a wide smile. She was tall, trim, and deeply tanned with an athlete's body, the easy grace of royalty, and a tendency to speak her mind - a woman of means, independence and spirit.

She had just come from Sante Fe, she told us, where she had purchased a bed and breakfast inn with the proceeds from the sale of her horse farm in Layfayette. I watched her curl up Indian style with a glass of iced coffee ( she had gotten this herself, over the anxious protests of the kitchen staff and declining the glass of early morning champagne and beignets ) and tell of her tales to become an innkeeper, about which she freely admitted, she knew nothing. But then I didn't know anything about horses or boutiques or restaurants, she said gaily, You're never too old to learn something new! My mother-in-law smiled tolerantly and continued to trim and arrange her flowers. A maid appeared at her elbow, whispered in her ear and scurried away - she gave Abby a dark look. You made own bed again? she sighed, how many times have I asked you .....but Abby hushed her and gave me a wink. They always promise not to tell and then they always do, she said, I really am the most hopeless house guest! And then she laughed, a genuine, uncontained sound, not in the least ladylike or delicate. My mother-in-law looked away, trying to hide her own smile.

This sinewey, elegant woman had, I learned, a history of casting off convention like an unwanted shawl. She had been educated in Europe but her roots were pure Texas and after finishing school she had returned rebellious and strong willed. She married early and quickly discovered that she had no taste for the lifestyle, once divorced she had stayed that way, going her own way at her own pace ever since, her freedom bought in part by family money and in part by her own labor - two years in the Peace Corps, a commune in upper New York state, a California winery for three growing seasons - all in all, an unstoppable woman with an unquenchable thirst for the next adventure. More, she was at home in her skin, she knew her own mind and refused to listen to the proper people or the naysayers. She had found her place in the world, embracing its unpredictability and wild side. She laughed off conflict, evaded arguments, gently chided those who would chide her first, and went about living with a spirit that others couldn't help but admire and envy - joy at all things, peace of mind, confidence in her own being, charity in her heart and open arms for all. She held no grudges, stayed too long at each dance, greeted each sunrise as if it were her first and last.

She was indeed, the most hopeless of house guests and was welcomed at every door.