Harry started writing his book at the end of July. He said it was going to be about truth, which we had recently discussed.
According to Harry, truth, or what we commonly refer to as truth, is relative. He says that we all assume that we know the truth about any particular subject, but that such truth is always related to our perception at that time. I won’t try to explain it any further, since I am no expert on such things. You’ll just have to read his book yourself.
Harry designated Paul as the person who would handle the publishing of the book - acquiring an agent, submitting it to publishers, working with the editor, choosing the cover, etc. And Paul was more than happy to play that role – he had grown increasingly interested in what Harry had to say, and the two of them talked often about the various subjects to be included in the book.
As July turned into August, Harry continued to make progress on his book. And Paul began packing for his move out west. Paul and I spent more and more time together, and I ended up staying at his place almost every night until he left. I helped him pack, I cleaned his bathroom and kitchen, I filled in nail holes and shampooed the carpet.
And all the while I felt a growing sadness. Soon he would be gone, and I would have a decision to make. As I said before, I was ready to move beyond my career as an attorney. I wanted to begin something more meaningful, whatever that might be. I was inspired by my conversations with Harry – his desire to teach others about themselves, his desire to contribute in some way to the betterment of the world, of our society. That had been part my original motivation for going into law, and although my passion for the legal system had waned in recent years I still had a strong urge to help the human race in some way, to help move it forward.
One afternoon, as I sat on the couch sewing a button on a pair of Paul’s shorts, he caught me off guard with a proposition.
“Come to California with me,” he said.
I stopped sewing and looked at him. I didn’t say anything at first. The truth was (there’s that word again), I had thought about going out to visit him once he got settled. But I didn’t want to impose, and up until that moment I wasn’t sure if he would be interested in my coming out.
“Really?” I asked.
“Absolutely.”
Did he mean for a visit? Or did he want me to come out and live with him?
“When?” I asked, hoping he would give me some indication as to what he had in mind.
“Whenever you want,” he said. His answer wasn’t very helpful.“For how long?” I asked.
He looked at me for a moment without answering. Then he slowly walked over and sat down next to me. “Come out and live with me.”
I was speechless. Images flashed through my head – leaving the firm, packing up my belongings, saying goodbye to my mother.
“Where would we live?” I asked.
“I’ll find an apartment once I get out there, and then you can move out.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. I’ve been thinking about it constantly. You’ve been saying over and over that you’re ready for a change. Well, here’s your chance.”
I looked at him. And just like that, I knew it was going to happen. I felt it, I saw it all in my mind.
“Okay.”
Paul stood up quickly, pulling me up by my hands. “You will?” he asked.
“Yes.”
He wrapped his arms around me and we held each other.
“I can take a week off and drive out with you next month, then move out for good this fall,” I said.
“Can you? What about work?”
I laughed. “I’ve already decided about work. And many of my associates know that I’ve been thinking of leaving. They won’t be shocked.”
“So you’ll ride out with me? The two of us, riding across the country? This will be great!”
“I can stay for a week or so,” I said. “If your friend has enough room.”
“Oh, it’ll be fine. Ravi has plenty of space. And I should be able to find us our own place by the end of the month. How soon do you think you can move out?”
“My lease is up at the end of September, but I don’t have to wait until then. As soon as you find a place, I’ll move out.”
Paul looked at me for a moment. “Will you be okay driving out by yourself?”I nodded. “I’ll be fine. I’ve done so much traveling by myself over the years, this is no big deal. Just a little longer than I’m used to.”
Paul didn’t look convinced. “I won’t be thrilled about you traveling alone.”
I smiled. “Maybe Harry would be willing to ride out with me.”
At that, Paul smiled and looked relieved. “You know what? I bet he would. Let’s call him right now and ask him.”
I walked over to the phone, picked it up, and dialed Harry’s number. He answered, and I told him about my intention to move out with Paul. Harry sounded happy for us, though I thought I caught a hint of disappointment in his voice. But not only did he insist that this was a great idea, he himself offered to ride out with me before I even had the chance to ask him.
“I’m sure I’ll need a break from writing by then, and a trip cross-country is something I’ve always wanted to do,” he said.
So it was agreed: I would ride out with Paul in August, fly back and begin packing, and then Harry and I would drive out some time in September.
I hung up the phone, gave Paul a kiss, and left for my apartment. I was shaking with excitement. And nervousness. This was a huge change. And I hadn’t made any major changes in my life for over a decade. My head was spinning with details, and I knew I needed to slow down.
Things were moving fast. And yet it all felt right. As if things were going according to plan in some way. In recent years, I had been thinking increasingly of change. Dramatic change. I was ready for the next chapter of my life to get underway. And here it was, the change I had been hoping for.
A new relationship. A new outlook. And a future that seemed wide open, for the first time in a long time.
