Patience paid off

In a few hours, I am leaving for Toronto. I'll be back in the Vineyard in a week and a half, but only briefly. I'll gather up my stuff, pack the Prius one more time and head onto the ferry to start back to Michigan. My time here is winding down. I am one of many people departing the island at the end of the season: "Help Wanted" signs, which were almost impossible to find two months ago, are now popping up in store windows.

I've been asked, "Was it everything you thought it would be?" It's difficult to answer. In some ways, yes, it was. I thought it would be a beautiful place, and it certainly is. I thought I would meet fascinating people, and I did. And yet it was also not at all what I was expecting. I came out here to do a job that turned out to be considerably less interesting than it sounded. My initial disappointment colored my perception of the island for the first month or so, and I had serious doubts about my decision. I was certain I'd find a great part-time job immediately; that was sheer fantasy. The recession has taken a toll on the Vineyard, too. Almost half of the summer had gone by before I landed the Playhouse job, and by that time I was having some bitter thoughts about staying here until September. There were times when I contemplated turning around and going home early, simply because things were not working out the way I wanted them to.

How foolish that would have been. I would have missed out on so many of the events and people that showed me what this island is really all about. I was already in the right place; I only had to wait for the right time to roll around and when it did, everything fell into place.

I spent the last weekend revisiting South Beach -- where the water is still remarkably warm -- and seeing more of Chappaquiddick. This morning, I had a magnificent hour-long massage that left me completely at peace. This evening, I finally fulfilled a little fantasy by visiting Le Grenier, the renowned French restaurant in Vineyard Haven. Kate, my stage manager at the Playhouse, had heard me daydreaming aloud about going there and gave me a gift certificate as an opening-night gift. (I could never have afforded it otherwise!) The food was incredible: clams casino, dripping with garlic butter and topped with tiny curls of crispy bacon; a robust onion soup coated with melted cheese; tender veal scallopini in a velvety cream sauce; fluffy whipped carrots that tasted almost like a dessert; a frozen key lime souffle, surrounded by a shallow pool of raspberry and pineapple sauces. It was a dream of a meal.

Then I came back to the house to pack up most of my stuff. I have to laugh at how much clothing I brought along (much of which was never worn), but at the same time I admit back in May, when I was deciding what to pack, I had no idea what I would be wearing here. I didn't know I wouldn't be wearing all those dress shirts or white pants or gaudy Hawaiian shirts (most of which never left the dresser drawer). And yet, although I ridiculed myself for cramming so many bathing suits into my luggage, I did in fact wear every one of them multiple times during my many trips to the Mansion House pool -- so I was right about something!