Introducing Liv

As I mentioned, Crazy, as Usual is a conversation between two friends. Liv is a person I actually met once outside a Starbuck in Denver. Ever since then, I've wished I could meet her again, so I created her in this book

It was the clanging of a bike lock that stirred my reverie. I looked up to see a woman straddling a bicycle, taking a chain lock out of a woven basket attached to the handlebars. She wasn’t wearing a helmet. She was wearing a straw sunhat, tied under her chin with a floral scarf that bore a replica of Monet’s Water Lilies. Lock in hand, she dismounted the bike and began to lock the frame to the iron fence in front of my table. Her eyes met mine with intensity, not at all apologizing for the disruption. No, her piercing blue eyes challenged me.

Then she unapologetically launched a question at me. “What is a young woman like you doing drinking coffee at 5 o’clock in the afternoon?” She nodded in the direction of the brewhouse adjacent to the coffee shop. “I’m 85 and I ride my bike here for a beer at 5 o’clock every Friday. You shouldn’t be drinking coffee. You should be with me drinking beer!”

?“Should?” I was stunned, amazed, and a little offended. “Don’t ‘should’ on me,” I thought to myself. She held her gaze. I fumbled for a response. “I “should” be leaving for my business meeting right now. That’s what I “should” do.” I stood to leave, half pissed, but very curious, then I turned back. “I promise to have a cocktail at dinner.” ?

?“All right then. Enjoy!” And she disappeared into the pub.

Liv and Jane later connect and start spending every Friday at Five together, talking about life. Their relationship turned a corner the day Liv invited Jane to her apartment.

We walked two blocks to a high-rise apartment building, punched the elevator button and headed to the eighth floor. The narrow hall had only a few doors. She led me to an apartment entrance that opens to a wall of windows facing an expansive park. The backdrop was an exquisite panorama of Longs Peak. The one-bedroom apartment was the happiest place I’ve ever seen – the bedroom and the living room with floor to ceiling windows ran in a straight line along the West-facing side of the building. Both rooms had sliding glass doors onto a covered patio lined with terracotta potted flowers. On the patio to the living room, I saw two cozy chairs … and her bicycle tucked into the corner like part of the artwork.

When I say the artwork, I’m not overstating it. Every feature of the apartment was a work of art. The furniture was not from IKEA like at my house. Every lamp and chair had a surprising amount of character. The wall art was tastefully arranged in the living room, but lined the entire hallway to the bedroom, from ceiling to floor. It was like living in a museum.

I'm going to save the rest of their conversation for later, but I'll say this. The apartment I describe here really exists. Every time I visit my friend in Denver, I'm transported in this place. I dream of one day having a high-rise apartment like this. When you write a book, you can have anything you want, so I recreated it.

I wonder what you dream of. I'd love to know what relationships have had the most meaning for you. What relationships do you still long for? Tell your story in the comments. And if you like this, will you share with friends?