Mom, Veruca, and I took our annual girls’ trip to the shore. Mom picked V up at her dad’s and drove here to pick me up (not exactly on the way but Moses was staying with Todd). I was the last one ready and mom was literally threatening to get in the car with V and start driving away. There’s a lot that goes into travel with V – making sure we have all the usual diabetes supplies in spades PLUS those we never use, just in case, like glucagon (rescue med) and syringes and backup insulin for pump failure.
We were less than a mile in and V’s hard case was sliding around in the back. I told mom to pull over and I got out to fix it. She couldn’t find the button to open the trunk. She was pressing the door locks and I had to tell her that was not it. So she got out of the car with me and opened the trunk and V’s suitcase came flying out and landed at my feet, which I totally called before I had even gotten out of the car.
We returned this year to the Marquis de Lafayette, this time in a suite with kitchen and living room with a pull-out couch that V commandeered the minute we arrived after several minutes of me insisting I would sleep there and she could have my bed. The battle to have one’s own space is real.
Our traditional first night dinner is always at Godmother’s – a lovely Italian eatery in a cozy old Victorian house. We stopped at the liquor store for wine first, where these two women rudely stepped in front of me in every.damn.aisle. and I bit my tongue because – first night on vacation and because – vacation. But OMG, it was SO HARD.
What we ordered: Caesar salads and clams casino, mozzarella fritti, fettuccine alfredo, vegetable risotto with lump crab, and good old-fashioned ravioli. For dessert: chocolate gelato. We took tiramisu and a citrus sponge cake to go. Everything, as always, was delicious. V must have looked really dehydrated, as her water glass was kept filled by the busboy, who would ask her if she wanted more water after circling the dining room.
After dinner we returned to the hotel where V and I met up with another T1D-mom (and family) I’ve been Facebook friends with since the MOD Squad debacle several years ago – we live not days away but several hours from each other and this was the first time we were in the same state, if not the same town. How serendipitous! It truly made my day. I’d swear she and I are spawn of the same dragon, and I know how weird that sounds and I’m glad I didn’t say it before we met so she wouldn’t have changed her mind about meeting me.
The Barefoot Bar at the hotel had live music that evening and as V & I paid our bill and prepared to go back to the room, I looked up and saw mom dancing on the balcony like she was at Woodstock. Oddly enough the room smelled a lot like Woodstock too, when we got inside. I said something mildly sarcastic to her and she actually sssshushed me.
The first full day we spent by the pool on a picture perfect day, the sun nodding in and out of the clouds and a beautiful breeze that kept us cool. The hotel has changed since last year – we now have wrist bands to wear at the pool to identify us as guests and we’re each allowed only one towel (mom- WTF? We can’t have more than one towel?). The restaurant no longer has the breakfast buffet and, while probably not the money machine it once was, I enjoyed the nearly-empty dining room and the old-school waitress who treated us like family.
Mom left soon after lunchtime to nap and V and I decided to hit the mall for shopping. Our location is ideal as we can walk to the Washington Street Mall, which is a quaint stretch of brick and paved closed street with shops and places to eat. I found a Cape May hoodie and then we walked to Fralinger’s for fudge (peanut butter and vanilla) and taffy, which you can choose by the flavor. I bought Todd his favorites: molasses, peanut butter, and vanilla, so he can’t say I wasn’t thinking about him.
We had planned dinner at the YB again this year – the restaurant V randomly picked as we walked back from the Kiwanis flag folding ceremony last year. She again ordered the jalapeno mac and cheese poppers. Mom ordered the Greek Salad (real Greek salad) and a crab cake with a lemon parsley aioli. I nibbled on her salad and ordered the yellowfin tuna with watermelon salsa and spicy soba noodles. We three shared the truffle French fries – which, btw, are exceptionally enhanced by dipping them into the lemon parsley aioli. Again, everything was fabulous. The soba noodles were a bit more tender (okay, swollen) than I like them, having absorbed, too much, the dressing. Still – YB remains one of Cape May’s finest. Highly recommend.
Woke at the ass-crack of dawn (5 a.m.) and could not fall back to sleep. I gave up trying and went to watch the sun rise from our balcony, which – surprisingly – is THE noisiest place to be at dawn. The hotel sits at such an angle that a full view of the sunrise is obscured by the building and, since it’s on Beach Avenue as all “oceanfronts” are, this means the trash and recycling crew are shouting at one another over the din of the waves and delivery trucks and street cleaners. At 6 A.M. It’s the one thing I love more about OCMD. Oceanfront is just that. The only roar you hear is the roar of the ocean.
Breakfast at the Mad Batter. Another old Victorian home converted into a restaurant. Line down the street for tables, so we choose to eat at a counter overlooking the bar, which was just fine. Crab and eggs benedict for mom, monstrous pancakes for V, and an omelet for me. Fresh-squeezed orange juice and people watching. And then this woman walked by us and the expression on her face changed dramatically/ambiguously and she reached out for mom and my mom simultaneously reached for her and they both exclaimed. At that point I knew this was a non-violent encounter and soon discovered mom catered for her and they knew each other quite well. (Hey – one never knows.)
Tuesday night’s dinner was at the Harbor View Restaurant, which came highly recommended from a friend. It’s between Cape May and the bridge to Wildwood. It was a late dinner – we were seated in the upstairs dining room with panoramic views of the water and sky. Mom ordered a Ketel rocks and I ordered a cabernet.
Another beyond-noshing tour ensued: two orders of steamed clams in garlic and white wine, clams casino (what IS this obsession with this 70s classic?), Seafood Fra Diavlo (mom), Linguine with clams (V), and Crab Cakes with mash (me). The Crab Cakes came out as balls and I impulsively picked them up and held them chest level and my mom cackled out loud. And took my picture. The waitress assured us it wasn’t the first time someone had done this. We laughed our asses off and Veruca was pissed, which only became funnier as we drove home cracking jokes about balls and the Nav system’s directions (“turn left NOW!”) and she didn’t talk to us the rest of the night.
She quickly stalked off the elevator when we landed on our floor and stormed down the hall, mom and I still sniggling, and I turned to mom and said, I feel like the two bad children and mom is mad at us. The words barely escaped my lips and mom was howling again, which made my own hysteria worse and my bladder threatened to betray me in the worst imaginable way, and in my favorite capri jeans. Which, would have been divine justice in V’s eyes, but thankfully I made it in time.
And then mom made me call the restaurant because she thought she’d left her retainer on the table and, while we’re on hold, I spy the case ON THE BEDSIDE TABLE. So she hung up. And now they’ve got MY number marked as crazy drunk lady.
Last day in Cape May. We were up relatively early and mom sent me downstairs to exchange our three “cards” for three towels and place them on our lounge chairs. It is a cutthroat scene poolside every morning to get your seats. The man who manages the pool area smiled broadly at me and said good morning, and continued to do the same throughout the day and asked me how I’m doing honey. I could have chosen to be creeped out by his enthusiasm and attention, but I’m 50 now and I’ll take it. So thank you, creepyhappy pool guy.
Went back upstairs to the room to eat leftovers for breakfast and noticed from the window that some woman had sat down on MY towel and lounge chair. What the hell is wrong with people? Like a tiger charging an antelope, I gathered my shit and raced downstairs to give her what for. Creepyhappy pool guy, who had literally just seen me not 20 minutes before, said good morning and how are you today? AGAIN. Which is good because it gave me time to breathe and his enthusiasm was enough to slow down the freight train heading for pool chair number 8. I approached her and smiled. She was older than she appeared from the balcony and now I’m feeling like an asshole while still letting her know these chairs were reserved, which she didn’t know. She didn’t know why the towels were already on some of the chairs, and was sorry. And I’m still an over-reactive asshole.
We had calamari and chicken tacos poolside with Painkillers – a delightful tropical drink made with Pusser’s Rum (yes, really), pineapple and orange juices and coconut milk, topped with a dusting of nutmeg. Later, I called Todd from the bar as I ordered a drink, glancing over my shoulder at V who was glaring at me in her nasty judgy way because I was having a drink in the afternoon. I smiled at her and turned my back.
Later, she and I went for a stroll down Washington Street to the Emlen Physick estate – the location of the haunted tour we were taking later that evening. We snapped some photos along the way and stopped at Dog Days of Cape May for puppy treats. V had a low of 47 so we popped into a candy store for butterscotch candies, and ended up having a quick lunch together at Delaney’s, where they were rocking to the 80s music of my youth which was great until Parents Just Don’t Understand started and I just lost it. V thought I was nuts and all I could think of was my teen summers in Wildwood.
This post is way longer than I intended, so I apologize. I try to keep them as close to 1000 to 1200 words to avoid being boring and self-indulgent.
We ended our vacation with breakfast across the street at Alethea’s, on the porch inside The Inn at Cape May. Mom had Lobster Benedict, V had Texas French Toast, and I ordered an omelet with cheddar, spinach, peppers, and onion. It was excellent. Another not-to-miss for breakfast in Cape May.