Marcie and Rainy Days (1)

A rainy day and some time for lunch reminds me of Marcie's love of murky, stormy weather and the patter of rain on a roof. I shared that passion with her, and it made for some wonderful moments. But ours was a lively love of the weather. There was no melancholy about it.

A gray day looking out from the corner offices-something Marcie would have loved!

Marcie was big on atmosphere, and even bigger on weather. San Diego's constant stream of sunny, warm, with the occasional cloud and a light breeze, 70s, was a rut to her. The same went for me. Rainy days? Now those were special.

I remember the first time we had a rainy day together. Marcie was smiling as she looked out at a darkening sky one evening from our abode on Cortez Hill.

"Honeeeeey," she said, not so much calling as calling my attention.

"Yes, baby?" I asked, looking at her as she looked out our window, checking in all directions, delighted obviously by the impending storm.

She turned and looked at me, wide-eyed. "It's going to rain!" she whispered in her odd, excited low voice. She read the Union-Tribune's weather forecast. "It might rain all weekend. OOooooh! This is perfect! We're staying in tomorrow."

I nodded and watched as she went from window to window and stepped out on our patio, then hopped in and grabbed my shirt. "Cookies!"

"You want me to get cookies?" I asked.

"Noooooooo!" she stretched it out, then fired off her correction in a single word, a pile of giddy syllables lolling about in her gleeful mouth. "WhatkinddoyouwantIwanttobakesome?"

She stood and bit her lower lip, bouncing at her knees and clapping her hands together as she waited. It was incredibly cute, and she was acting like such a little kid...

"Choc-o-late chip!" I exclaimed, crowing it in a falsetto that sounded like a human coyote cry. I rolled my head back and around. "Chocolate chip coooooookieeeeees!"

"Ha Haaaaaah!" she cackled, grabbing me around the waist and kissing me. "Extra chips!"

"Extrrrra chiiiiips!" I chimed in.

"Extra vanilla!?" she asked, her eyes popping incredibly wider at the quesion we both knew was more of a proclamation.

"Exxxxxtra Vaniiiiilla!" I sang back.

"Okay..." she said, letting go and stepping back, thinking...

"Cinnamon rolls for breakfast and breakfast for dinner?" she asked.

"Mooooorning all day!" I said, which made her slide back over and hop, pulling my hands until I hopped, too.

The floor was a trampoline. Seamus stared with a paw raised, pointing in confusion as he mewed ineefectively, unable to penetrate our cloud of inclement celebration.

"Candles and movies?" she asked, swinging my arms.

"Moooovies and caaaandles!" I bellowed, tickling her sides until she cackled.

She stopped me and leaned in close. "Wine and nookie?" she asked, breathing in my ear, lowering her voice and nuzzling a bit.

I nipped her jawline gently, then leaned back, howling at the top of my lungs, "Liiiiquor and sex!"

There was a knock at the door. Marcie turned beet red and went to our room, embarrassed. I opened it. There stood the mail man, smiling his oddly uneven Asian grin. He handed me a little box. I smiled and thanked him, signing the slip.

"Thanks," I said, noting the box was from Gevalia. Coffee! Just in time.

"Enjoy the cookies, Mr. Pruett," he said.

I did not have any idea how much I would. Marcie, red-faced, came out and took my hand after I closed the door. We retired to the bed and the weekend began.