Authors: Dianne Harman
After speaking with Luisa on the telephone, Maria buzzed Jeffrey on the motel intercom. "Jeffrey, would you believe it? We already have two rooms booked for the Memorial Day weekend and they're return customers. You'll need to make a fresh batch of Freedom. I'm sure that's why they're returning. They just don't know it. We can really help them."
Back in Huntington Beach and two hundred miles from the Blue Coyote Motel, Luisa hung up the phone looking forward to the upcoming trip. For the first time in weeks, she felt hopeful about the future.
CHAPTER 29
Sean and Jeanne's marriage was performed by a priest Sean knew at a little chapel in the Rocky Mountains, outside of Vail. It was late winter and there was still plenty of snow. It was a very small wedding and neither Jeanne nor Sean had invited their families. Sean knew his family would be disappointed by the wedding. They still expected him to act like the priest they had known him to be. Jeanne's family was so dysfunctional that she had little to do with them. A few of their friends came as well as some employees from the clinic. After the ceremony, Sean and Jeanne hosted a dinner for their guests at a local bed and breakfast.
He had never been happier. He discovered he was a natural counselor. Sean had hired other good psychologists and the clinic was thriving. The media was beginning to give it attention, both in print and through television and radio. Sean thought the reason the clinic had become so successful so fast was that it filled a need which had not been addressed other than by bits and pieces, here and there. It offered numerous workshops and groups dealing with Alzheimer’s, homelessness and problems associated with simply growing up. The old term “hardening of the arteries” had been replaced by the term “Alzheimer’s” and almost every family had someone who suffered from dementia. This condition affected the whole family and the clinic not only dealt with it, both in counseling and education, but it also offered classes and counseling for the caregivers, who had often been overlooked.
Denver was a compassionate city and its local officials were very interested in working with the homeless to get them off of the streets. The mayor and the city council made it a top priority. Sean’s clinic offered workshops, classes and counseling for the homeless. The founder of the clinic had been instrumental in setting up workshops and programs designed to help the homeless get jobs and with their new income, they no longer had to resort to living on the streets. The successful results were tangible.
The city was a mecca for young people who lived to ski, but after the season ended, many found themselves with no resources and often resorted to selling and taking drugs, as well as prostitution. Under Jeanne’s wise tutelage, programs dealing with those problems were also implemented and they, too, had the backing of the mayor and the city council.
It may have been as simple as being in the right place at the right time, but for whatever reason, the clinic was a huge success and greatly appreciated by the citizens of Denver, many of whom made it a top priority when they wrote their checks to non-profit organizations.
The more attention given to the clinic by the media, the more people wanted to be associated with it. A number of retired psychologists donated their time as did a few doctors and nurses. The clinic was expanding rapidly and with the growing case load, they were soon going to need more space.
Many of those who came to the clinic were insured, so the cash flow was substantial. Patients could go elsewhere, but they had heard impressive stories about the clinic and they chose it instead. Not only was Sean using all his counseling skills, he was also taking classes on management, a subject completely foreign to him.
Sean had always been a people person. His genuine warmth and caring nature effortlessly drew people to him. He found that many people wanted to work for him and he was able hire his employees from a large pool of well-qualified applicants.
Jeanne was thriving as well, both in the marriage and in her work at the clinic. She was very skilled at connecting with young people because of her troubled background. She could identify with and speak to the problems her clients brought to her when they sought her guidance.
Sean was surprised to find that he really enjoyed skiing. Jeanne was a world class skier and a very good teacher. Under her guidance he was becoming quite accomplished. They spent every weekend in the mountains. Everything about his life had changed, with the exception of the counseling. He found he enjoyed being outdoors, which he thought was strange after all of the years he had spent in church praying and conducting services. He didn't drink, he had a wonderful wife, and the thoughts of young boys no longer haunted him. That was all in the past. If someone had told him that he would be leading this type of life a few years ago, he would have thought they were crazy. It was a life he couldn’t have imagined in his wildest dreams.
As a priest, he had never been interested in the rapidly growing world of technology. Smart phones, tablets, and computers held no fascination for him, but as director of the clinic, he was forced to become technologically literate. A thriving business depended on websites, billing programs, scheduling, and calendars. Soon Sean found that he was able to master and enjoy this new world. He realized that, like so many others, he had even become dependent on his smart phone and his portable tablet.
Relaxing while having lunch one day and surfing on his iPad, he discovered an app on birding. He had no idea that it was one of the most popular outdoor recreational activities in America. Sean became fascinated with the activity and talked Jeanne into traveling to the mountains after the ski season to go birding. They took their first birding trip early in the spring, just as the last of the winter snow was melting. Jeanne had always loved any outdoor activity and enjoyed taking photos of the many species of birds native to the Rocky Mountains.
Between their winter ski trips and the birding, they were spending almost every weekend in the Rocky Mountains. They talked of buying a small cabin in the mountains since they were spending so much time driving back and forth on the weekends. They contacted a real estate agent and began looking at properties. Sean didn't think life could get any better.
Then things began to change. For several weeks, Sean had begun to notice that something wasn’t quite right with him. Sometimes he felt like he had a fever, then that would go away only to be replaced by a feeling of nausea. At other times he felt chilled and noticed he was sweating more than usual. He began to snap at Jeanne and found he was becoming impatient with almost everyone and everything. His wonderful new life came crashing down one morning when he woke up and realized that he had dreamed of seducing young boys while drinking vodka with them. He got out of bed, drenched with sweat.
Dear God, please no,
he silently prayed.
Not again.
No doubt about it
, he thought,
the dream had been highly erotic
. Even though emotionally he was disgusted with himself, his fully erect penis indicated some baser part of him had responded to the dream. As if the dream hadn’t been enough of a wake-up call that something was happening to him, when he made his way to the bathroom to shower and shave, he noticed that the stubble on his face was white, rather than gray.
He started thinking about some of the other physical changes he'd noticed lately, but hadn't really paid much attention to, like the veins on the back of his hands, which stood out prominently, and the trouble he was having sleeping. He’d recently admitted to himself he felt really tired, but he couldn't seem to get a good night's sleep. He tended to blame it on his hectic schedule, but now he wondered why he seemed to be aging prematurely.
Sean walked into the bedroom where Jeanne was getting ready for her busy day and asked, "Have you noticed anything different about me?"
"Well, I didn't want to alarm you, but yes, I've noticed that you don't seem as energetic as you were a couple of months ago. I thought maybe with working so hard during the week and playing so much on the weekends, it was beginning to take its toll on you," Jeanne answered. "I'm sure it's nothing. Perhaps we should stay home the next couple of weekends. The last few months have really been hectic. We could both use a little rest."
The day seemed like it would never end. For some reason, Sean’s mind kept focusing on the past and all of the problems associated with it. He was unusually sharp with his employees, finding fault with everything, and being less than empathetic with his own patients.
Finally, as the day wore on, Sean was forced to admit to himself that the siren song of alcohol was beginning to sing to him. From his background in psychology, he knew he couldn't stop the seductive thoughts of alcohol, but it was how he reacted to those thoughts that could be a problem. The mere thought of taking a drink scared the hell out of him.
And then what?
he thought.
Would the fantasy of young boys become more than a dream? Would it rear its ugly head as well? Would Jeanne leave him? Would he be forced out of the clinic?
He felt he was going down a steep and slippery slope, that everything he had worked so hard to overcome was about to come crashing down, destroying his new life. He was becoming increasingly anxious and nervous. Sean tried to think of something he could do that would reverse these bad thoughts that were coming to him.
For some reason he began to think back to when his life had turned around. He remembered the little motel in the desert where he had stopped when he'd realized that he was too drunk to drive. He felt overcome by a strong urge to return to that little desert motel. Who knew, maybe there was some healing magic there?
Coming home from the clinic, he pulled his car into the garage and walked into the kitchen, where Jeanne was beginning to fix dinner. "I've been thinking," he said. "I know I've told you about this little motel in the California desert where I stopped last year and it may seem crazy, but I wonder if there's some healing process going on there. I keep remembering how optimistic I was and how good my future looked when I left there, even though I was at the lowest point of my life. There are supposed to be a number of holistic healing places in that area of California and Arizona. You know, hot springs, mineral springs, things like that. Maybe there's something like that going on at that motel.
"Anyway, if you don't mind, I think I'll go there over the Memorial Day weekend, spend a couple of nights, and see if I feel any better. I don’t want to alarm you, but not only have I been having some strange physical things going on, I’ve also been quick-tempered and impatient, which I’m sure you’ve noticed. But the thing that really got my attention was a dream I had last night. It was about young men and vodka. Quite frankly, it scared the hell out of me on one level, but was tantalizing on another. I’ll make the trip by myself. You stay here and enjoy some quiet time without me to bother you. I'll be back before you know it, hopefully back to my normal cheery self. I love you and I will do whatever it takes to keep you and preserve and protect this wonderful new life we've built together. I refuse to go back to who I was. I can't. It's not an option. I'd rather die than go back to that hellish double life."
"Oh Sean, I've been so worried about you. Yes, of course, if you think it will help; then go. Set yourself free once and for all. You've told me a number of times how desperate you were and that suddenly, when you woke up at that motel, you felt optimistic, that there might be a future for you after all. Whether or not there is any healing going on there doesn’t matter. What does matter is that you need to feel good again. That’s all that is important. We both know enough to understand that these things often have no scientific factual basis, but they work. Call and make your reservation while I finish dinner."
Sean couldn't remember the name of the motel. He racked his brain, but nothing came to him. He recalled that he had used his credit card and perhaps the name of the motel would be in his credit card file. He went upstairs to his office, pulled open the desk drawer, and quickly found the file he was looking for. He leafed back through the pages, and there, in the charge column, was the name "Blue Coyote Motel." Now he remembered the neon coyote sign on the side of the road. He opened his iPad, pulled up the browser, and typed in "Blue Coyote Motel." The motel website immediately popped up with the phone number. He still marveled at technology and how you could find anything you wanted on the Internet. It was amazing.
He took out his cell phone and tapped the phone number onto the keypad. The phone was answered immediately by the lovely young woman who had called him "Father." He recognized her voice and remembered her well. A beautiful Latina, although at the time, he hadn't been particularly interested.
"This is Sean Moriarty. I stayed at the Blue Coyote Motel almost a year ago and I'd like to stay there Friday and Saturday of Memorial Day weekend, if you have room."
"Of course, Father, I remember you. We would love to see you again. See you in a couple of weeks," Maria said, her voice warm and comforting.
Swell,
thought Sean,
how in the devil do I tell her I'm no longer a priest and that I'm married?
Being Latina, she's probably a devout Catholic who could never understand how a priest could become defrocked. Oh well, I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. Just a couple more weeks and I'll be there.
Feeling optimistic for the first time in several weeks, the aroma of the chicken roasting in the oven brought him back to the present and he hurried down the stairs to Jeanne.
CHAPTER 30
Barbie called Jill one Sunday afternoon a few weeks after they had returned from Nepal. "How about coming to a Zen meditation session with me later today? You seemed to enjoy the Tibetan aspect of Buddhism when we were in Nepal. I'd like to introduce you to a type of meditation called sitting meditation. It’s associated with Japanese Zen Buddhism."