I met Big T during the process of my divorce. Heck, both of us were in the midst of long and testy divorces. Re-marrying was the furthest thing from my mind. Surely, at 40 yrs old, I was destined to play in the garden and wait on grandchildren….. alone. Yet, we met by accident and have been together ever since…. like it was meant to be.
Big T, in Boston, lived with his sister and then another friend, after he separated from his wife. Looking for something more permanent, I begged him to spend a little bit more and find a great house, something appealing, so his four daughters would enjoy spending weekends with him.
He found a magical house, named “Bay Breeze”, which was a summer cottage (winterized and insulated) on the south shore of Boston. From the enormous windows and across the bay, the Boston skyline loomed in the distance. To the right, a long stretch of beach and the Atlantic Ocean. The view was spectacular but the house was tiny, barely 1800 sq ft. We had three bedrooms, one bath (upstairs only), a decent kitchen but no dishwasher……. and almost no furniture. He leased the house on July 1st and July 4th was our first big weekend…… in Boston……. a major holiday……
Perfect for the Housewarming Party, right?
In Southern Culture, a Housewarming Party is mandatory proper protocol. Neighbors are curious about who you are, your children, and your extended family. In the south, neighbors are nosy. The Housewarming gets the awkwardness and curiosity out of the way, and allows the neighbors to get used to your family, ask questions… you know…… bond. Traditionally, the neighbors bring a small gift, like a welcome mat, a plant, or a cooking utensil…… something for a new house. New neighbors understand if you’re still unpacking. If you make friends, they might lend a hand moving a couch.
If you DON’T have a housewarming party, the neighbors would be curious about your family, gossip, and shun your children. This could go on for decades. It’s simply inconceivable to NOT have a Housewarming Party…… or so I thought.
Of course, as a southern woman, I thought about the Housewarming Party immediately, but a little uneasy on how northern women did it in Boston. I knew my future husband, “our” daughters, and Gunner, would have to fit into the neighborhood and first impressions are everything. Bit T was rattled and shocked. “What do you mean?”, he started. “We have to throw a party immediately?”, he said, anxiety rising. He and ex-wife hadn’t had anyone in their home to entertain in at least 15yrs. He was nervous, I could tell. Clash of culture? Or was it because his ex was anti-social? I explained the plan….. and he warmed up a little bit. Whether it was love or lust, we’ll never know, but he allowed me to run with the idea. I do love that man. To his credit, he enthusiastically signed on……. which meant a LOT of work in the ensuing days.
The owners allowed him to move in on June 27th. He took pics of the rooms and sent them to me. I noticed a BIG flagpole out front. Bit T explained an Army vet built the home. I made a mental note. Back in Mississippi, I had a full staff and we swung into action. With all the stuff at the B&B, truth is, I could probably outfit several homes and barely notice anything missing. We immediately packed items to outfit a kitchen, anything else I could think of, and sent him boxes, Fedex. I also packed July 4th decor fabric/napkins/bunting, everything I could find with ribbon/our treasured 9’x5′ American flag from the USS Saratoga/glueguns/floral pins, everything I needed for a party. I sent a suitcase with fireworks, USPS, two day mail….. which was illegal…. unknown to me… and he was a lawyer…. and he had a heart attack about it. Oops.
Gunner and I arrived on June 30th. Bit T already had beds set up but no linen yet. Kind of like camping out, but we were happy. Boxes I sent arrived early on the 30th and he had begun to unpack the kitchen by the time we got there. The house was DARLING, a perfect choice. Something about the sea makes all the tension ooze out of your body. Yes, I decided. I would LOVE this house and we would build our family, here.
Then, I rounded the kitchen to the living room. A black Oriental rug, full of cat hair, laid in the middle of the floor, covering gorgeous, wide-plank chestnut hardwood, cut from the original owners farmland. The rug……….. one last gift from his ex-wife. Gently, I suggested we throw it away. Black floral oriental would never work in a beach house anyway. It was a bit cathartic for Big T. That afternoon we cleaned the house, steel wool to get the paint specks off those gorgeous floors, a hose-down of the enormous deck and side porch, little bit of weeding in the front garden, a scrubbing of the kitchen and bathroom……….. and a master list of what we needed, four pages on a legal pad.
By the next morning, the girls arrived. First time the kids met. Gunner was thrilled at the prospect of siblings, but they didn’t give a damn about him. It was funny. Trial by fire, thrown into a rough and tumble world, where he had to fight for attention… instead of being the only one. It was GOOD for him. The house would be perfect for the kids, we just needed a few things. After breakfast, I had the kids deliver fliers, invitations I printed up for the Housewarming, to neighbors. I was planning on about 75 people…..or so I thought, for noon on July 4th.  Big T and I took off for Lowe’s with 3 of little kids, while the bigger girls put up the bunting on the front fence and played with the July 4th decor.
We blew into Lowe’s like a Nor’easter. I stopped at the desk and asked for a Manager. I had a long list and waved my credit card. I was there to spend money, in a hurry, and asked for several people to follow us around and take items to commercial checkout. I wanted SERVICE. Big T was watching me, in awe. He had never seen anything like that before…. To this day, he says, it was the moment he knew made the right decision to pick me. We moved through the store swiftly, making deals for items on the spot. I drove a hard bargain, Big T was even better, but we had a willing manager with authority to cut prices. It was a blast. Midway through, we realized we needed a delivery truck. I handed over my credit card, and the truck was loaded. We were checked out by the time we were done. Big T went home in the delivery truck with Gunner. The girls and I moved onto Bed, Bath, and Beyond for small appliances, housewares, and linens. It was July 1st. 
By sunset, we unpacked a complete big dining set for the back deck, sitting area with another umbrella, firepit, outdoor rugs, outdoor bar, and plants. With our new lawnmower, Big T and Gunner tended to the lawn, tiki torches for the sea wall, and set up lawn games and a junior croquet field. We had a grill and propane with a fancy set of grill tools for Big T. All men love good grill tools. The guys put up a new ceiling fan and light kit. The girls and I set up the side porch with fluffy outdoor wicker couches, bookshelves, potted plants for each step and all over, a sports equipment rack, another rug, and a boombox/CD player………. with Sinatra and Dean Martin wafting over the neighborhood. Perfect. Together, we raised the USS Saratoga Flag and I topped it with 75yards of yellow ribbon in an enormous 360 degree bow. It was a gorgeous sight to see the huge flag unfurl over our new home.
Inside, the sheets, dust ruffles, mattress pads, 200 bar wipe towels for the kitchen, and bath towels, were all washed. One of the girls learned to starch and iron pillowcases that day!!!!!!!!! Shampoos, soaps, towel racks, even toothbrushes and a candle, and the bathroom was set. New rugs down in the entry, kitchen, dining area, and a new rug for the living room. We still needed furniture but we slept in our own beds that night.
July 2nd: Big T made breakfast (Have I told you how much I love that man?). I was outside, surveying the entry. The bunting was up, but it was missing something. I made big yellow bows for each peak and the fence gate, and tied a yellow bow to the outdoor light. Found some old frames in the basement, cut July 4th fabric to fit, stapled it to the backside of the frame and hung it on the front door, another one for the side porch door, and another for behind the couch. Cheap, but it worked for the weekend.
It was HOT that day and cottage had no AC (put a window unit on the list). I was whirling around in a bikini top and a pair of shorts, praying for a break in the weather before the party. While I hung the yellow bows, a retired Boston cop wandered by, walking his dog. He stopped to speak to me, apparently one of the kids had delivered him an invitation.
“Sure is a hot one today”, he said. I laughed and replied, “Oh, it’s not so bad. It’s not hot until you see the heat moving on the pavement.”  “Are you that woman from Mississippi?”, he queried. Hmmm, I thought, word must be out already. I nodded. “Where did you get all the bunting?”, he asked. Apparently, everyone in Boston decorates like crazy for July 4th, and 6′ wide bunting is hard to find. I was defensive but responded, “I brought it from home. We have a big front porch, and this is what I use at home.” He frowned but said, “Hmpf, I didn’t know you celebrated July 4th ………. down there.” I stopped and cocked my hip, “It is still the same country, ……..ya’ know.” He didn’t mean to be offensive, just poorly worded, and backed off, adding……, “You know, the neighborhood has a prize for best decorated house. “Yeah (with contempt), you’ll probably win this year.” I raised an eyebrow, “A prize, you say? For decorating? Bet your ass I will win!” He asked about our flag, the last flag to fly over the USS Saratoga, and I told him the story of it. He decided I was okay. We became great friends…….
It was time to start cooking. The girls had never seen a KitchenAid mixer before but they were great help. I brought everything with me for the gumbo but it needed a day to settle. Big T had to go into Boston to the office for a while but took Gunner with him. I asked if they could stop by the farmer’s market and gave them a list of the fresh vegetables, fruit, and antipasto I needed for the long spill. They were back by noon. Gumbo was done, 28 quart stock pot 20lbs of shrimp, filled to the brim. I had no place to put it. Back to Lowe’s for another refrigerator? And a window AC unit?
The windows were open while we cooked in the kitchen and you know….. the smell of onions and sassafras leaves……. and Cajun spice……. and boiling the shrimp…… we had several visitors from the neighborhood. A guy named Louie stopped by. He was the head of the neighborhood parade, held on the morning of July 4th, at 10:00am. He asked about my flag and wanted to borrow it for the parade. Put it on the one fire truck at the beginning. I was honored, of course. I thought to myself……… omg, there’s a parade at 10:00. I learned there was a ceremony, rededication, veterans presentation at 11:00 at the park around the corner……… and our housewarming is at noon. OMG!!!!!!!!! Everyone will end up at our house after the parade. What am I going to do?
Another guy stopped by who owned the house across the street, we’ll call him Dave. He was Chair of Finance Dept at Harvard. He smelled food and wiggled his way into my kitchen to sample. He offered his fridge to hold the gumbo. His wife, a kooky psychiatrist never cooked anyway. He and Big T became HUGE friends. I was happy with the offer.
Big T came home and off we went with a BIG grocery list. Home again. I took the kitchen with the girls. Big T and Gunner went out to find furniture. He looked at me like I lost my mind. “Please….., honey……., don’t give me furniture. I’ll never find the right stuff to make you happy.” I kissed him on the cheek, “You make me happy. It will be okay. I trust you.” We had a rough list of what we needed. What he didn’t know was, in one of the boxes I sent, I had a dozen patriotic-type quilts and afghans. For a decade, whenever I saw one at a garage sale, I bought it. We used them all the time at the B&B for summer holidays. Whatever he bought, if it was really – truly – horrible, I could cover it and make it work.
He came home with a great tan sectional, $200. He did well. As a bonus, however, he stopped at a garage sale on the side of the road, and bought a couch…… for $1. I laughed and he laughed. It was hideous, bright orange-gold, mid-century modern, but it was solid as a rock and LONG enough to take a nap. He loved it and that was all that mattered. We put some quilts on it for the day and it was perfect. He found three old televisions, a few end tables, and some beastly lamps. We were going to be fine. I bought 9 folding card tables ($15/each) from Lowe’s for buffet, bar, and odd places – easy to cover with July 4th fabric from the B&B. We had about 30 white plastic chairs. Six coolers, sodas, water, and kids drinks on the side porch, beer and wine at the back deck. The kids tacked rope lights under the railings for deck and side porch, around the front door, and inside the fenceline……. in case the party went late.
The retired Greek opera singer at the end of the street sent me an enormous flower arrangement for the buffet. Wow, have to love Euro-etiquette! Big T had been warned about the guy next door……. as in….. he was mean. He was older, had a voice box which he covered with a dirty scarf. I smiled and waved and made sure the kids were nice to him. Gunner loved him cuz the girls were mean. Suddenly, I noticed we had a newspaper delivered, Boston Globe and the Wall St Journal….. but Big T never ordered one. They were laid perfectly on the top step, every morning. How odd. The paper guy would have thrown them, right? We figured out….., Voice Box John walked early in the morning, stole someone else’s paper, and brought it to us. Major breakthrough for him. He became like an uncle to the kids. I loved John.
I don’t like fat-laden-grisley BBQ. We do a 10-11lb pork loin, trim it all up, soak it in a special sauce, and put it in a turkey cooker (steam roaster) for about 18 hours on low. The meat rests and falls apart with a spoon. Then, we add about a cup of the marinade, then chill. I get about 30 sandwiches out of one loin and can cook 6 loins at a time = 180 sandwiches. We put the BBQ on and the smell drifted all over the neighborhood. Sauerkraut, fresh. Standard 6′ fruit spill with the anti-pasto on the card tables. Lots of dips and chip stuff brought out in succession, not all at one time, on a hot day. I made up 150 hamburgers, and real Boston baked beans (had never done that one before). The new fridge was delivered early on July 3rd, along with a window AC unit (surprise), and we bought a LOAD of frozen cool pops for the kids….. and tied the scissors to snip the end to the freezer. Three kinds of cookies for dessert, no cakes. Lovely neighbor, Martha, brought us the prettiest apple pie.
Teri and Ellie showed up the afternoon of July 3rd. My kitchen was a wreck and I was a little bit nervous by the chaos. The were dragging a wagon behind them….. with boxes of liquor. “We didn’t know what you drink, so we brought everything.” Ellie became a second grandmother to Gunner and Terri became an ordained minister…….. just so she could finally marry the two of us. Good friends.
Across from our little cottage was an empty lot, then up a slight hill was Toby and Dot’s house. Dot stopped by my kitchen to coordinate food for the day. She was having about 20 people at her house, some from the neighborhood, some family, and didn’t want to show up with 20 add-ons. We worked it out well because our house had the view and the cool breeze. In fact, we just made the party bigger. People flowed from her house, to the field games, and then to our house all day long…. like we planned it that way.
We had couple of failures over those few days. Dave the Harvard Chair could not wait until July 4th for Gumbo. He decided to warm it up on his stove, the evening of July 3rd, so he could gorge on Gumbo, before everyone else got to it. He scalded the bottom and ruined the gumbo. I was sick about it. Poor guy…… he was just hungry….. his wife never feeds him.
Late that same night, I was putting together a bean salad and cooked 5lbs of fresh, French cut green beans with a sauce. The beans were one ingredient, PART of the bean salad. Bit T was helping me, peeling potatoes for potato salad, and I was working on other beans to build the bean salad. Dave was sitting at the kitchen bar, talking to me while I cooked. The two of them ate all 5lbs of fresh green beans. FIVE POUNDS of them. I turned around and couldn’t find the green beans. They looked like little kids, caught with hands in the cookie jar. Dave said, “I’m sorry….., I just……. I couldn’t stop. They were so good. They were like lemon candy…..” He was so embarrassed, no way to fake that kind of a reaction. A green bean? Like candy? I wondered when was the last time he had a good meal. What does he eat, I thought? Poor fella. At least he wouldn’t be constipated.
July 4th: The parade that morning was a perfect picture of America. Louie and the other Marines led the parade, full presentation flags. Then, the fire truck with our Saratoga flag at the back. Ellie, in her convertible Mercedes was the grand marshall that year. Followed by a bunch of kids who dressed up their bikes and scooters. Parents, babies in strollers, little kids in wagons, everyone wearing red, white, and blue, waving flags. I wanted to cry, it was so beautiful. Big T and the kids were in the parade, while I manned the house and did last minute chores.
Presentation at the little park was heartwarming. Everyone said the pledge, sang the national anthem, history of founding fathers, short presentation by the vets in the neighborhood, presentation of colors, and a closing prayer. It was 2004…….., still praying in Boston.
And then……, everyone came to our house.
We had one neighbor who was a bitch, next door to us. No one in the neighborhood liked her. She was a lesbian who ran an NGO. She redid her house and spent almost a million on it. She was a snob, thought she was better than anyone else. As the day wore on, she drank too much. Late that night, she was eating a blueberry muffin sitting on my porch step. I sat down next to her to try to make a friend. She cried like a baby….. on my shoulder……. about Italy. Yep, she was weird but needed a friend that night. She was alone.
No telling how many people were at our little home that day, but the house was happy and handled it well. Everyone helped, contributed willfully. Many hands make light work. Neighbors helped me wash dishes as the day went along. Other men helped Big T on the grill and organized games for the kids. A young woman down the street ran a local bakery, and brought the biggest sheet cake I’ve ever seen……… half the size of a twin bed…… and it was exquisite. An ARMY of kids, roving bands of them, went in and out. A football game broke out at the lot across the street. The opera singer sang for us. The old Italian guy from down he street started a heckuva poker game in the dining room. An antique car collector from around the corner brought fabulous Scotch whiskey and cigars…… the guys had a good time with that one. I watched Big T from across the crowd and he was having fun. He needed guy friends. The neighborhood would be good for him. Older folks settled on the side porch with Sinatra…… and danced like they were young again….. Does it get any better?
About dusk time, the tide went out and the men slipped off the sea wall into the muck to shoot off the “illegal Mississippi” fireworks in the bay. It was perfect. We laughed and played together. We ate like kings, sans Gumbo.
About 3:00am, we said goodnight to our last guest and blew out the tiki torches and remaining candles. I went to check on the kids who had long since collapsed. Littlest girl, sound asleep, still clutching a flag……. Gunner, with a blue tongue and moustache from Cool Pops, sleeping together in the same bunk bed. Middle girl, sprawled and snoring. Eldest girls, still dressed, sound asleep, feet to head, head to feet.
Big T and I crawled into bed. The house was a wreck but well christened. We could clean it up in the morning. We knew we were home and among friends.
For July 4th, no difference in cultures at all, we were all Americans. Our little cottage would be perfect for us.