NEW BEGINNINGS
That summer Tadashi and I continued to work on the bed and breakfast. Tadashi would come to Preston on Friday night and then leave for work at 5:30 on Monday morning, driving an hour and a half to reach Norwalk. If I had a day without guests, I would go to Monroe and spend the night with him. That was also an hour-and-a-half drive. We now talked every day, sometimes several times a day. I was beginning to worry about our relationship. I was becoming too dependent on him. If we broke up, I would be at such a loss of what to do. I decided I needed to talk to him.
It had been a year since we started dating, and Tadashi asked me out to a very fine restaurant to celebrate being together. We were by ourselves in a small nook. I decided to talk about our future together. I was so nervous, it was a wonder I didn’t fall off my chair. I said that we should think about commitments. If he didn’t want that, then we should both think of seeing other people. He didn’t say a word. About fifteen agonizing minutes of small talk went by. Then he threw his arms into the air and said in a loud voice, “I’m ready.”
I said, “Ready for what?”
He said, “To get married.”
I was breathless.
The following day Tadashi called me from work with a suggestion. We had a trip planned to go to Las Vegas in September. He said, “Let’s get married while we’re there.” He made all the arrangements. My job was to find a dress.
On September 12, 1996, we were married in a small chapel at the Flamingo Hotel. I will never forget the service. The minister asked for commitments between us that spoke to what marriage is truly meant to be. It was beautiful.
Throughout the year between us meeting and getting married, Tadashi and I would visit the casino about once a week. I always won. Tadashi loved to play cards and was very impressed with my ability to win. I knew that eventually I would stop winning. “Everyone stops winning,” I would say to him.
Well, on the way back to our room at the Flamingo he said, “Let’s stop at the blackjack table and see if you can still win.”
The charm was gone. The winning stopped. We both wonder about that. He loves repeating the story to guests. How was it that I won for a year and then on our wedding day I lost? Actually I had just won the best husband in the world.
We returned home and took off our wedding bands. We were both afraid our families would be terribly hurt if we didn’t have a wedding ceremony with everyone present. We announced to our families that we were going to be married in November. On November 30, we were married for the second time, at St. James Church, with two of our favorite priests attending. My daughter, Holly, and Tadashi’s son, Steve, were maid of honor and best man. We would not live together for another six years.
All went well the following year. Tadashi lived in Monroe due to his job being on the other side of the state and I lived in Preston running the bed and breakfast. We saw each other on the weekends, when Tadashi would arrive to help me with the business. If I had no guests, I would go to Monroe and stay with him.
We continued to work on the bed and breakfast. Tadashi tackled the electrical in the basement, which was hanging at neck height throughout the space. I continued to refinish furniture, paint, plaster, and accomplish whatever I could.
It was 1998, and when spring arrived we decided to go back to the zoning board and get a permit for four more rooms and a dinner restaurant. We anticipated a big fight and we got it. We were turned down with a flat NO. I was told that I could attend a meeting of the zoning board where they discussed the town and permits that people wanted.
I went to my first meeting and sat at the opposite end of the room. I was asked why I was there. I told them that they had invited me. To say that I was treated like a pariah was putting it mildly. I became so angry, I think I may have had steam coming out of my ears. I rose from my chair, walked over to their table, and slammed my fist down. I reminded them that the public zoning board meetings were taped. I then reminded them about the comment that had been made by one of their members previously regarding the “little women in town.” I almost scared myself. The chairman said that they would work with me but I had only one more chance to go in front of the board.
Needless to say, my anxiety level was through the roof. Tadashi and I began to make plans for how we would precede with our decision to expand. We hired an attorney. Next we visited our local pastor for support. We decided to abandon the dinner restaurant. That would make our next attempt with the zoning board more palatable to them. We also decided to ask for sixteen rooms. We didn’t really want that number but were pretty certain that if we asked for eight we would be stuck with four.
Finally the night arrived to face the zoning board once again. I was a bundle of nerves. We met our attorney at city hall. He informed us that he thought he could not help us. Father Cannon, our local priest, also came to the meeting to lend his support to us. We were the last on the docket. In fact, we were after Foxwoods Casino. The town had no love for the casino. I told Tadashi, “This is a bad omen.”
It was nearing midnight when our request came up. Our attorney spoke, but it did no good. Then Father Cannon spoke in our favor and that didn’t do any good. He had lived in town some twenty-odd years and still was not considered a local. Our neighbor from across the street also came to the meeting. His name was Mike and he had pneumonia and a high fever that day. He told us that we would never get the permit if he didn’t stay. He spoke last. He told them that I had done more for Poquetanuck Village than anyone had done in many years and they were being stupid if they didn’t give me the permit. With that statement Mike sat down. I think they were stunned. After a few seconds they talked among themselves and delivered their verdict: bed and breakfasts in Preston could have up to eight rooms.
Mike was one of them, an original Preston resident. The board members believed him, and I am eternally grateful for what he did that night.
We then completed our fifth bedroom and began to look at the home next door. That is where I lived. There were two rooms in the Avery house that I wished to make into additional bed and breakfast rooms. The Avery home was built in 1790 and was on the National Register of Historic Places. It was modestly built. The ceiling height was only six and a half feet. What it did have were two wood-burning fireplaces. They would be a draw for guests, BUT we would have to go before the zoning board again. This home is also haunted. It is where the ghost at the original back door was photographed.
We steeled ourselves for the night when we would go before the board. It was now 1999 and I had been in business for four years. This gave me some credibility, I thought. Just the same, we were worried.
We sat in front, on folding chairs, directly facing the zoning officials. Our request was heard rather quickly. I grabbed Tadashi’s hand and whispered, “Here we go.”
“So you want to have two bedrooms to rent in the home next to Captain Grant’s,” the official said.
“Yes,” I said.
“The board would like to know if you will do as good a job on that house as you did on the Congdon house.”
“Yes, of course,” I responded.
“I think we are ready to vote.” He looked at the other board members and they nodded in the affirmative. “All those in favor.” Every hand but one went up.
Tadashi and I were stunned. I thought that perhaps we had finally earned their confidence in running a bed and breakfast.