Fran's World…and Welcome to It!

Those of you who have been following my blog for a couple of years know that I have been with my boyfriend, Steve on and off (mostly on) for 8 years.

We have tried to break off, but have been unsuccessful…so we decided we obviously love each other and are on this planet to teach each other a lesson…me to learn from him how to relax a bit more, and him to learn from me, how to have passion for life. (It’s either that or we both figured that our parents who are both in heaven have a very sick sense of humor and want to see how our relationship plays out.)

Our relationship started online – even before that was the trendy thing to do. To me it was the ultimate in “male order”.
I had an ad posted at love@aol.com. I was happy getting tons of emails from would be suitors. Out of the blue, my friend Laz sees a profile on Steve, a simple two- line profile that stated he was single, a pilot, liked to scuba dive, lived in Queens, and owned a PC. That was it.

I was hesitant to write because I don’t like approaching guys first. But she persuaded me to email him. Turns out he was smart, spiritual and also had a daughter. So we each were single parents.

I asked him to send a picture. That’s when the trouble began.

He said taking pictures for him was like root canal without the Novocain.

But he agreed to send pictures… of body parts…not as in axe murderer style…but as in put the pieces of a puzzle together. So first he sent a picture of his eyes, then the chest…and then the third picture…a picture that stopped me in my tracks. It was disgusting! He sent me a picture of his butt, a huge gigantic butt. I panicked. I didn’t want to speak to him.

After a few days he emailed me. “Is everything okay?” I told him that I thought it was disgusting that he sent me a picture of his butt.

An IM popped up on my screen.

”My butt? I sent you a picture of my arm.”

“Your arm!”

“Yeah, That was the a close up of the crease in my arm as I was making a muscle.”

“Yeah well your arm looks like your butt. I thought that was your butt crease.” I examined the picture again, and when I decided he wasn’t lying…

laughed over it, and decided to meet.

Our first date was back on Feb. 5th, 2000. Within 2 weeks of meeting him he had helped me move my aunts furniture out of her apartment, find a home for her dog, and build a new kitchen in my house. He was obviously really working hard to impress me…the thing was he was genuine…a “solid guy” as my dad would say…and he was willing to put up with my “6 month rule”. I wouldn’t kiss a guy for the first six months I met them…wanted to make sure there was a friendship first.

Over the next few years we ran the marathon together, went to Australia, did a 50-mile bike ride, shared our thoughts, our dreams, and morals. Our personalities were totally different, but it worked.

So by November 21, 2002 we were engaged – he bought me a Harley Davidson Sportster bike instead of a ring…he said it had six rings (pistons) not just one. I smiled coyly. “If I say no, Can I keep the bike?” Just kidding… then I kissed him and said, “Yes.”

Over the years however we kept putting off the wedding date. After all…I had a house, he had a house. I had a kid, he had a kid, he had a career, I had a career. Why ruin it? (Not to mention we had both been married before…so we weren’t so willing to go down that road again so fast – unless we were really, really, really sure. Our kids thoughts we were nuts and that we should just tie the knot already.)

But there were really important things holding us back…take for instance, our taste in furniture and decoration. He likes dark browns -early American furniture – you know the reserved type you’d find in a lawyers office. I like bright, light colors; more modern…outgoing that says,”Hey, I’m over here!”

But despite the clash, after several years, I agreed to move into his town house in Ossining.
I kept my Howard Beach home, shoved all the furniture I wasn’t bringing into my bedroom, locked it up and sublet the rest of the apartment to a fellow writer, Tracy. This was my escape route. If it didn’t work, I could still go back home.

If it did work, I’d only have to move one more room. We agreed to give it a year trial. At the end of the year if it didn’t work I’d move back to Queens, we’d part and move onto the next relationship. That was the plan.

So like the Beverly Hillbillies…packed up a truck and moved to the hills. We mixed our furniture tastes into his condo. So next to his grandfather clock would sit my giant lime green tree frog from the Rainforest Café. (What can I say…I love whimsical.)

The place was too tight for three people and three cats to live in, plus his daughter came every other weekend. We fought, we made up, we fought…we built new rooms, we made up, we built more rooms, we redesigned the bathroom till it was both to our liking…then I moved.

The one-year plan was up and it didn’t work.

Originally I was going to move back to Queens, but my son, Spencer and I decided we wanted to try real country living. So I found a place in Putnam Valley across from a beautiful lake.

By the time I had signed a lease on my new place in Putnam, Steve and I were already missing each other…but I carried out the plan to move out. That day was filled with tears. By 11:30 pm I was moved into my new place.

I moved out on August 19, 2006. The next day, he saw a house for sale across the street from me – on the lakeside! He asked me to go with him to look at the house. We held hands outside the house looking at the lake. He said, “Well?”
“Well what? I said.

“Do you like it?”

“Of course I do, but this is crazy…we aren’t’ even broken up 8 hours! My boxes aren’t even unpacked. I just signed a year lease! He just smiled again. “Do you like it?” It was a very intense moment filled with so many emotions. Tears came to both our eyes.

“We can start new.” He smiled. It was like a fairy tale.

A few hours later, he called me to tell me he put a down payment on the house. I, the fast talker, was speechless. One because everything was happening so fast, and two because I was in the supermarket shopping with my ex-husband, who had driven up to offer me moral support because he knew I was upset about the break up with Steve. (Long story.)

We decided to keep the fact that he bought the house a secret from everyone for months.

He was supposed to move in by December…he however decided to become my neighbor a month early. He announced it at one of my movie screenings. I was in shock. The room was silent. He winked at me.

People who knew us just shook their heads…One friend said it best, “You guys are either madly in love, or this is the best case of stalking I ever heard of. “ People didn’t even know we were back together. No one knew how to react, not even us. (Although in weird way we found it comical.)

After he moved in, we started to fight again…yes, over the same thing…the damn furniture…he went out and bought a very dark, very manly bedroom set. I felt left out of the process. If this was to be our bedroom…

It might be easier to live in a cave at this rate…the decorating options are limited.

So for the next year his house stayed empty since we could never decide if I was moving in or not…thus decorating was on hold.

Finally, a turning point…or more precisely a ‘Crap or get off the pot” moment. His daughter, Jamie was having a birthday party and wanted to have it at his house. Only one problem, his huge house was still basically unfurnished.

It was a Tuesday night. The party was on Saturday at noon.

So in the typical Steve and Fran fashion, in one of the worst winter storms, we headed over to Bob’s Furniture. It was now or never.

Our mission: To get some furniture for rooms that neither of us had furniture for; to find something we both liked, and to have it delivered and set up by Sunday before the guests arrived.

We walked in the place was empty. We walked around looking at living room sets. I saw one I really liked, Steve hated it. We moved on.

We saw a nice glass table with a marble countertop that would be perfect for his den, I loved it. Steve hated it…so we moved on.

We walked around the store once completely. Pointing at things like we were giving them a life or death sentence.

“Too stuffy.”

“Too modern.”

“Too common.”

“Too, Too…not me or you.”

“Look, we can buy this stuff now and throw it away later, I don’t care.”
Said Steve.

“But that’s a waste of money and time. I’m sure we can find something.”

“Fran, it’s all about compromise. And you and I both know that with our A type personalities that’s a little difficult since we both like to be in control…”

“I don’t have to be in control (well most of the time.) We just need to find something that will make us both happy.”
“I’d be happy at home sitting on my couch. This is taking too long.”

Finally a brave salesman stepped in. His name was Scott Snyder.

“May I help you folks?”

“Good luck.” Laughed Steve.

“We’re looking for a den set, living room and spare bedroom set, we’d like to order it all tonight and have it delivered by this Saturday.” I smiled. The salesman looked at Steve. “Welcome to my world”

Scott dug his heels in, “Well we have lots to choose from. Have you seen anything you like yet?”

After another two walks around the place we narrowed it down to four bedroom sets, a den set, and two living room sets. Not bad.

Finally, we got it down to one of each. Now came the sticky wicket.

Scott said, “Okay, we have two delivery dates in your area. One is on Wednesday and one is on Saturday…”

“Great we’ll take the Wednesday.” I Chimed in.

He smiled, “The only problem is the Wednesday truck is full…but we can have it there on Saturday, just not sure what time.”

“Ah, Scott, you see that is a big problem. I believe anything is possible if you set your mind to it. The point is we need it for the party on Saturday by noon or it makes no sense for us to order it now. Please either just squeeze it on the Wednesday truck, or get a bigger Wednesday truck and we’ll all be happy.”

He went to check the computer. Sorry, I really want to help you…but the scheduling of the trucks in out of our hands.

“Wow, can I speak to a manager please?”

A manager came over. “Excuse me sir on a scale of 1-10…what is your degree of power at this store?”

“About a 7.” He smiled.

“Wow I need someone with a 10. Is Bob from Bob’s furniture around?”

“Not at the moment…let’s see if I can help you though.”

After a 20 minute conversation. Scott’s manager promised he would do his best to get it there before the party, that he would ask for it to be the first drop off, that he would put special notes to the warehouse etc. He truly was trying his hardest.

I knew I was giving the guy a hard time…but the bottom line was we were spending a lot of money in one shot, and we very well couldn’t be setting up as the kids were walking in. (Of course, ordering it weeks in advance could have avoided this whole thing…but it was a moot point at the moment.)

Steve just sat back as I did the negotiating…Him and Scott would glance at each other on occasion and shrug shoulders.

When I was satisfied that they would do their best…the sale was finalized with Steve’s John Hancock. Scott and his manager looked exhausted. I just laughed as Steve and I headed out into the blizzard snow. Apparently even furniture shopping can become and adventure.

Flash forward…Saturday morning.

At 10 a.m. Steve went to pick up Jamie’s friends.

At 10:30 a.m. the three rooms of furniture were delivered.
As the men put the furniture in the rooms, I’d vacuum around it, getting all the Styrofoam pieces off the floor. I told them where to put the furniture, threw pillows on the couch, stuck a lamp in the corner. Put decorative flowers on the den table, put wine bottles in the breakfront, blew up balloons and hung them, put up a birthday banner, stuck pictures on top of other items, and even baked a batch of chocolate chip cookies! (I felt like the Cat in the Hat when he gets the house back in order before the parents come home.) The moving men thought I was nuts.

As the Bob’s furniture truck pulled away Steve and the gang came waltzing in. He looked at me, looked around the house and winked.
I nodded back. Our little secret…We did it! Bob’s furniture kept their word, I arranged the house as quickly as I talked and Steve had the party gang safely delivered. Everyone was happy.

Later when the kids were downstairs, I heard some movement upstairs. Curious I walked into the guest bedroom. Sure enough I saw Steve rearranging the furniture I had set up. He smiled devilishly “Come on, you got to admit…it looks better this way!”
I just shrugged and smiled. No point arguing …after all he has to leave for work sometime and then…well…well, well….you can just imagine. Happy decorating!

My love life and Bob’s Furniture

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