Chapter 25: Malibu (1989)

Our move to LA is a disaster. Cruelty, tears and a goodbye.

The LA move was a disaster from the start. I arrived a few weeks before she did to find an apartment and get us set-up. She stayed behind to organize the shipping of our things. I thought she’d like the apartment because it was cheap, split fifty-fifty it was $300 a piece, and I thought that would take some pressure off of us while we were getting going. It had an avocado tree in a small patio out back that I thought she’d like, but she didn’t.

She hated the apartment the moment she walked in. She asked me the first night why I rented it. She couldn’t care less about the avocados and later on learned to make guacamole so she could buy avocados from the store. She said the place was like living in a bird cage, and then I could see that it was. The neighborhood was awful, she said, and then I could see that it was. The carpet was gross, she said, and then I could see that it was. I’d missed that. It was like putting on negativity glasses, and suddenly I had no idea why I rented the place…