The Color of Home: A Novel

by Rich Marcello

  “Picasso?”

  “Satterborn. More on honesty. When we’re hesitant to talk about something, we figure out why fear has boxed us in, and then knock down the walls.” Fear to Fearless in Ten Not-so-Easy Steps, by Nick and Sassa. Fearless: that was the operative word. It wasn’t that he no longer experienced fear. More that the fear didn’t stick for long; it rolled off.

  “How about the wedge scene? Any time something happens that drives a wedge between us, we need to flip the wedge and use it as a way to build deeper and deeper trust,” she said.

  “Wedges are juicy.”

  “That’s when we’re our most vulnerable.”

  Those eyes. He ran his fingers through her hair and tangled them until they attached. Maybe in the end being vulnerable, staying open to whatever popped up, even when the wedge tried to push him away, taught him the most. Or not. Maybe it was just her. “I love you.”

  She reached over and rubbed his leg with her foot. “You better.”

  “Better stop if you want to finish.”

  “A preview.”

  “Let’s go for a walk and find something cold to drink.”

  Nick stood up and pulled Sassa off the floor. A moment later on the street, she looped her arm around his as they strolled through the tree-lined cross streets and admired the brownstones.

  Stepping behind her, he wrapped his arms around her waist. “Look at that one.” A restored three-story brownstone with bay windows on each floor had a “For Sale” sign in front of it.

  “Beautiful. . . Then there’s the ‘I’ scene, or better yet, the less and less ‘I’ scene. I plan to practice standing in others’ shoes as much as possible,” she said.

  “That’s a good one. How about the spinning-out scene? Can you imagine a world where people have learned how to catch and manage spinning out?”

  She pranced across the street to a bicycle chained to a wrought-iron fence delineating the front yard of a brownstone. She double-checked to make sure Nick was watching, then jiggled the chain. When she played, the world was as good as it could ever be. “It just takes two to start a chain reaction.”

  He crossed the street and joined her. On opposite sides of the chain, they sent waves back and forth for a while.

  “Scenes are harder when we get to the practical stuff. I’ll start. The work scene. I feel like the studio has somehow run its course. It might have been a means to an end for me.”

  “You did that all for me?”

  “I did. And for me. And for my father. And for Rachel.”

  She reached her arm around him and slipped her hand into his back pocket.

  “Did that bother you?”

  “No.”

  Rachel. What would she think of where he’d ended up? Happy? Sad? Both. Would they have stayed close? Yes. Or no. They would have figured it out.

  “Did you just go there?”

  “Yes.”

  “Say ‘hi’ for me.”

  He stopped walking, turned to Sassa, and kissed her gently. “Continue?”

  “With scenes.”

  He stopped at the street vendor on the corner and bought an extra large soft pretzel. For the next several blocks, he broke off pieces and shared them with her. By the time they’d finished eating, they were both thirsty and stopped at their favorite juice bar for their favorite kale and spinach smoothie. Back on the sidewalk, they passed the juice back and forth until it was gone.

  “Okay, here’s the location scene. I’m not so sure about the city. Even in one of these brownstones, the city is a hard place to raise children. Not to mention Fellini,” he said.

  “We don’t need to be here anymore.”

  “Really? Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  He put his arm around her and pulled her off balance toward him. “What about the restaurant?”

  “I didn’t know I had running a restaurant in me.”

  “I did. You were always meant to run your own show.”

  “The money and exposure have been, well, addictive.”

  “I worry any time you mention addiction.”

  “On the road last month, I took Vicodin.”

  “You what?” He pulled a few feet away from her and stopped. He tried to catch himself as he started to spin out. Something pre-verbal ballooned to just short of bursting. He took a deep breath. And another one. He’d checked in a few times about Vicodin over the years, but she’d done such a stellar job of staying away from drugs that he’d written addiction off as a real risk.

  “I’ve stopped. The drugs seemed to go with the guys. I went through a bad spell and acted out after our blow-up, that’s all. It won’t happen again.”

  Heat surged through his body. Beads of sweat. Vicodin? Guys? In his mind, he banned all white pills. Then he squashed the fuckers. “Both guys and the Vicodin? How do you know?”

  “I found home.”

  “Not the first time one of us has acted out.”

  “Part of being home means I stopped acting out and I stopped repressing stuff.”

  He paced between the street and sidewalk, balancing on the curb each time for a second. He wanted to scream at her. About Vicodin. About the guys. How could she go down that path again? No. He wasn’t doing this. He wasn’t going to spin out. This was just a scene, a wedge, an on-the-spot test. He slowed down, studied her face for signs. Did he believe her? Did he? Yes. There would be no wedges today. There would be no more acting out. There would be no more repressing feelings for either of them. Or at least a lot less. “Back to business.”

  Sassa stared at Nick for a long second, hugged him. “Thank you.”

  “Sometimes I wish things were more black and white.”

  “That would be boring. Should we keep going?”

  “Okay.”

  “I guess I’d like to be a chef-owner of my own restaurant without all of the other stuff. I’d like to grow my own vegetables, raise a few cattle, and serve the food I produce. I guess somewhere out in the country would be best.”

  “How about a country compound with a restaurant, a music studio, a small farm so we can grow our own food, and a house big enough for our family? We can raise our five kids there.”

  “Four. A compound? Figures.”

  “I can’t help myself.”

  Avoiding the cracks on the sidewalk, Sassa gamboled a few yards ahead; then she turned back to Nick. “The inevitable money scene. We’re both making money now, which is hard to walk away from, especially when we need cash to build the future.”

  “Walking away will always be hard.”

  “That’s what folks count on. More isn’t better,” she said.

  “Do you like the compound idea?” He hopped ahead, failing to avoid all the cracks, until he caught up to her.

  “It needs to be on a lake.”

  “North Lake.”

  “Is there a North Lake?” she asked.

  “There must be one somewhere.” He drifted off on the idea of the compound. A small country town with Sassa. Lots of kids. Fellini. A restaurant. A studio. Home. A rush of warmth swept through him.

  “One hundred dollars for your thoughts.”

  “Do you want to get married?”

  “Is that a proposal?”

  “Just testing the waters.”

  “I don’t respond to hypotheticals.”

  • • •

  On a sunny October day, Sassa watched Fellini prance down the aisle, well out in front of the wedding procession, as a live band played “All You Need Is Love.” He loped right to Halfa, who stood waiting for him, biscuit in hand, in front of a raised black wooden altar. From a distance, the altar, placed at the end of the white rose petal-covered aisle, appeared to widen the above-ground roots of a 200-year-old oak tree overlooking Loon Lake. The tree fronted a grass amphitheater sloping down to the water, and stood on six acres of land with over 500 feet of lake frontage. Sassa’s boss had offered her the place for the ceremony and reception a few months earlier.

  Nick
and Sassa had recruited Halfa to marry them on a call one afternoon during which Sassa detailed why a shaman was best suited to perform the ceremony. “Shamans connect the vulnerable,” she’d said. “Well, I’m not sure about that, but I am honored that you asked me, so I’ll do it,” Halfa had said. She was ordained online.

  “Sit,” Halfa commanded. Fellini complied, chomped on his biscuit, then raced over to the oak tree to chase a squirrel. He trotted back to Halfa and waited for the rest of the wedding party.

  Sassa loved that dog.

  Two hundred chairs, filled with relatives and friends, lined the grass on both sides of the aisle. A lake breeze swept over the attendees, inundating them with the smell of flowers, perfume, and warmth. Heads turned back toward the procession.

  Each member of the wedding party walked down the aisle. The women— Sarah, Jackie, Myrina, Jessie, Adrienne, and Chloe—wore red satin dresses complemented by a single strand of pearls. The men—Matt, Brayden, Joe, Nick’s band members—donned gray suits identical to the ones the Beatles wore on the cover of Please Please Me. Joe, Nick’s best man, and Chloe, Sassa’s maid of honor, walked down the aisle together holding hands.

  After a short pause, Nick jigged down the aisle, as if he were dancing on the infinite pool of joy, in an elegant handmade version of the white suit John Lennon wore on the cover of Abbey Road. He located his spot and turned back toward Sassa. He was incredibly handsome.

  Were Mom and Dad watching?

  Sassa proceeded down the aisle in a beautiful, intricate, white satin dress that exposed her shoulders and half of her back. The red sash, paying homage to the red dress in “When Light Passes Through,” tied into a bow in the back and extended down the middle of her long train. Did Sis like her dress?

  She joined Nick and they both stationed themselves in front of Halfa. Joe, Jackie, Adrienne, and Nick’s band members lined up in a row at Nick’s side. Chloe, Brayden, Matt, Myrina, Jessie, and Sarah lined up beside Sassa.

  Sassa glanced back to take in the view; then turned toward Nick. She took a slow, deep breath.

  Halfa began. “Sassa and Nick, today you have come to this sacred location as individuals, but you’ll leave here as husband and wife. You’ll blend your lives, and at the same time remain whole as you enter the next stage of what has already been a profound adventure. The story of your life together so far has been one of love, choice, and struggle. The story of your future, with infinite possibilities in each moment, is yours to write. All those present have come to witness and celebrate your love and commitment this day, and are eager to be a part of the story not yet told.”

  Sassa, shaking, tried to fix her gaze on Nick. She reached out and locked her hands with his.

  He leaned over and whispered, “Squeeze my hands tighter.”

  She smiled and mouthed, “Okay.”

  “Rather than a reading, Nick and Sassa have chosen ‘For My Wedding’ by Don Henley,” Halfa said.

  Nick’s band members turned and faced the audience. One pulled a tuning fork from his pocket and sounded an A-note. They performed the song a cappella in four-part harmony. Dark angels parted. Prayer. Grace. Acceptance. Nick teared up. Sassa teared up as well, then totally lost it on the chorus. The band members harmonized on the final extended note.

  “The CD is available at the tent in the back,” Halfa said.

  Everyone laughed for a few seconds.

  “Nick is going to read, or rather sing, his vows to Sassa now.”

  Nick turned to one of his band members, who handed him his guitar. He strapped on his Martin, then checked the tuning. Facing Sassa, he said, “This is called ‘Sassa.’” His voice trembled. He tried to steady his hands as he fingerpicked a beautiful and elaborate riff that formed the foundation of each verse. After repeating the passage twice, he began to sing.

  When I am with you

  Everything else fades away

  You are so beautiful, Sassa dear

  In your heart, open space

  In your touch, there is grace

  You are so beautiful, Sassa dear

  Sometimes I think your words are poetry

  Sometimes I think your heart shines

  like the moon, like the moon

  In our bed, sweet release

  In your arms, complete

  You are so beautiful, Sassa dear

  Inside, we go deeper

  I’m your biggest believer

  You are so beautiful, Sassa dear

  Sometimes I think your words are poetry

  Sometimes I think your mind is as open

  as the sky, as the sky

  I wasn’t sure I could love this much

  I didn’t believe I was that strong

  But when you took me down to the altar of surrender

  I finally knew I was . . . touched

  His voice broke. He played a few extra measures of the opening riff. Every time Nick wrote for her, she felt blessed. And this song was so beautiful. He wasn’t the only one who had gone down to the altar of surrender. She shot him a dose of his favorite look in the world, and let him know.

  He took a deep breath, then continued.

  In your eyes there’s peace

  Our dreams are within reach

  You are so beautiful, Sassa dear

  Together, we’ll grow old

  Like water flowing, our two souls

  You’ll always be beautiful, Sassa dear.

  Sassa reached over and raised both of Nick’s hands to her lips. She kissed them and whispered, “Thank you.”

  “Sassa will now recite her vows to Nick,' Halfa said after a pause.

  Chloe handed Sassa a few pages. Sassa glanced at the first page, then folded the papers and gave them back to Chloe. She had this.

  “Nick, when I first met you, I was broken. I didn’t know what to do or where to go. I was starting to fade. I thought I might have to settle for a life that I hadn’t created, a life where I couldn’t overcome my past. You showed me, through truth, through love, through being nothing more than yourself, that I could heal. You knew that my strength remained within me, waiting to be uncovered. You held onto that belief for me until I was strong enough to hold onto it myself. We joined then in something I knew would last a lifetime, even if I didn’t know all the different forms it would take.

  “As strong as our bond was, I had some work to do on my own. I needed to find something, deep at the bottom of things, that I’d lost long ago. I needed to become whole, even though I wasn’t sure exactly what that meant.

  “And so did you.

  “When I went on what we’ve now come to call our separate-together journey, I was torn, but knew that I had to head down the path of most resistance, as my mother had taught me long ago. For the past six years, on that path, we pushed and pulled in ways that nourished us and also came ever so close to breaking us apart.

  “Despite obstacles along the way, we did finally make it through. We came out on the other side stronger, whole for the first time in our adult lives. And when we came out, we came together in, yes, a generative way that you recognized much sooner than I did.”

  Nick grinned.

  “Today these are a few things I know for sure, and they form my vows to you. Nick Satterborn, you’re the love of my life. I have always loved you. I will always love you. Even before we met, I’m sure I loved you. I will always tell you the truth, especially when I most resist it. I’ll work to ensure that the obstacles we face together make us stronger, instead of driving wedges between us. I will strive, but not always succeed, to see you, to understand you completely. Have patience with me when I fail. Know that I’m a persistent woman. I will try and try again, with words, touch, with whatever it takes, until I get through.

  “Know that my passion for you has no limits. We’ve only scratched the surface of what’s possible, my love. That’s all I’ll say about that now. I’ll leave the rest to your imagination.

  “I pray we’ll be blessed with many children. Well, four to be exa
ct, two boys and two girls—”

  She paused as a wave of laughter rumbled through the amphitheater.

  “I know that you’ll show the same boundless love for our children as you’ve shown for me. We’ll have the opportunity to complete the circle with them, by parenting them in ways that honor our parents, both here and watching over us.” She glanced over at Nick’s mom and nodded. Mom. She’d never thought she could call someone by that name again.

  “Finally, my love, we’re going to dance a lot in the next fifty years, starting with a virtuoso display in a few minutes. You know, there are so many ways to dance. I am, as I know you are, fully committed to trying them all.”

  She mouthed, “Was that okay?”

  “More than okay,” he mouthed back.

  She glanced at Halfa and members of the wedding party. Everyone was crying.

  Halfa waited for a moment. “Do you, Sassa, take Nick to be your partner in life and in sharing your path, equal in love, a mirror for your true self, promising to honor and cherish, through each moment laced together into hours, days, and years?”

  “I do,” Sassa said.

  “Do you, Nick, take Sassa to be your partner in life and in sharing your path, equal in love, a mirror for your true self, promising to honor and cherish, through each moment laced together into hours, days, and years?”

  “I do,” Nick said.

  Chloe handed Sassa Nick’s wedding band. Sassa placed the band on Nick’s finger. Joe handed Nick Sassa’s wedding band. Nick slipped the band on Sassa’s finger. They had designed the bands together. Sassa had had her mother’s wedding band melted down and used the gold to fill a carved-out section of her wedding band with the inscription “Love Is Everything” in Sanskrit. Nick’s wedding band, similar to Sassa’s, consisted of a simple platinum ring merged with gold from his father’s wedding band, containing the same carved inscription on the bottom of the ring.

  “Nick and Sassa, before I pronounce you man and wife, I want to say a few words. Well, okay, maybe more than a few.

  “May you walk through each moment truthfully, with wonder. May you touch each possibility and pursue only those paths that help one or both of you grow. May you bank more and more trust and use it to handle difficult places with grace, strength, and compassion. May you continue to explore, go deeper and deeper inward, mapping both new and old. May you let each other’s light come through, sometimes reflected, sometimes amplified, and most often exactly as generated. May all of the wisdom that you both already hold inside you guide you and tether you to each other.