How Love Provides Salvation for Those at the Mercy of the Tide
A review of 'Orange Cappuccino' by Joel R. Dennstedt
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I met an odd assortment of people when I lived abroad. I found that other expats would wash up on the shore, linger for a while, and then float away to their next destination. There’s an entire population out there that leads a kind of uncertain and unfathomable life.
I’ve spent a lot of time listening to the stories of such people. They came and went like autumn leaves on the surface of a river. From the beginning, we knew our time together was short and we made the most of it.
Among them was Jeremy. Jeremy was a transitory English teacher who I never knew to hold a job. He always wore a bright pink canvas belt with a military buckle. I first met him when he stood up in a bar and tried to organize the crowd to get the channel changed.
“Can I have your attention please? The game we are watching is 48–3. There is a much better game on another channel. Mr. Bartender, please switch to the other game!”
It was like a scene from Les Misérables, only instead of a fight for justice, Jeremy’s energy was dedicated to something comically unimportant. I’ve always had a soft spot for people like that.
Jeremy was 29 when I met him and he started dating a girl named Katrina. Katrina was 19. In order to quell any concerns Katrina’s parents might have, they went through the charade of a marriage ceremony. They didn’t sign any papers or anything, but they did stand in front of God and the family to declare their enduring commitment to one another.
“What’s the significance of a signature in the context of eternity?” Jeremy asked.
Eventually, the tide came back in and washed Jeremy and Katrina to Argentina. Through the grapevine, I heard that Jeremy landed a job teaching English. Katrina was employed cleaning houses. Everything went great until objects of value started disappearing from the homes.
At some point, I received a message from Jeremy. “Hey man, what’s up? Guess what, Katrina turned out to be a thief. She stole a bunch of stuff in Argentina, I barely got out of there.”
I never got to hear Katrina’s side of the story.
Memories of Jeremy and Katrina came to mind as I read Orange Cappuccino by Joel R. Dennstedt. The novel is the story of Josh and Sarah. Like Jeremy and Katrina, they are transient people caught up in the unpredictable currents of life. I felt affection for these characters just as I feel affection for all those who go through life at the mercy of the tide.
Perhaps we’re all doomed to live that sort of life, at least for a while.
An identifiable story of ill-considered love
We meet Josh and Sarah in the middle of a desperate cross-country trek in a broken down vehicle they affectionately refer to as Teddy. The story is written in short, direct sentences that are most often in the present tense.
The narrative voice provides a sense of both intimacy and urgency. I appreciate writers like Charles Bukowski and Ernest Hemingway, and Orange Cappuccino kept me flipping pages. The reader is not so much in the car with Josh and Sarah, it’s more as if you’re in Josh’s head as he’s caught up in the irresistible current of new love.
However, there’s a big difference between the blazing heat of a new attraction and the warm comfort that comes through the passage of years.
I’ve been like Josh
The narrative flows through Josh. Sarah is present, but we get an idealized rather than honest portrait of her. It feels like reading a document with large sections blotted out.
Sarah of Orange Cappuccino is like the fond memory you’re left with after you’ve processed the anger and frustration of a breakup. She’s what remains after a wound has healed into a scar.
Josh is a salesman, and though he’s truthful about his shortcomings, he tells them in a way that feels a bit like a pitch. He admits when he makes mistakes, but he seems reluctant to fully accept responsibility for the pain he’s caused.
For example, Josh is married when he meets Sarah. He has young children. But after a symbolic ceremony on the side of a mountain, Josh, unlike my friend Jeremy, decides he has to take the next step and sign the papers.
The scene where Josh has to break the reality to his wife feels authentic. It’s also heartbreaking.
The new chapter begins
Josh and Sarah begin a nomadic life together on the perpetual promise that there will be better days ahead. However, it feels not so much like a journey as it does an escape.
The fact that Josh left his small children behind hangs over the narrative. I kept thinking of the children waiting at home for their dad to return. When he does see them again, the portrait is even more censored than what we see of Sarah.
I’ve observed too many people who never learned to appreciate their children. When I was in my 20s, I know that I was not emotionally prepared to be a father. By the time I had children, I was in a place where I knew I could be my best self. I recognized my own attitudes in Josh. Like Josh, I used to be able to spin narratives about my shortcomings in a way that cast me in a positive light.
That tactic can keep you afloat for a decade or so, but when you try to skip away from your flaws, the weight starts to pull you down. It’s not the end of the world to behave like that for a time, but sooner or later, you have to embrace a more sustainable perspective.
Orange Cappuccino
The book is called Orange Cappuccino because that’s the drink that Sarah prepares for them. Sharing a mug of orange cappuccino becomes a symbolic manifestation of their union. They’re bound together by mutual delight over the aroma and flavor.
As relationship cornerstones go, it’s not the most solid of choices.
My wife and I recently celebrated our 15th wedding anniversary. Orange Cappuccino gave me cause to reflect on what I would name as the glue that holds us together. Some couples claim that they were brought together by their love of wine, or perhaps their shared commitment to running, or the fact that they are employed in complimentary professions.
My wife and I are both teachers. We enjoyed sharing a bottle of wine until I gave up drinking. She likes to dance and I like to cross-country ski. But I think it’s fairest to say that the thing that brought us together was our shared sense of humor. From the moment I first met her, there was a sense of familiarity. I didn’t need to inhale the aroma of an instant beverage to find common ground. The common ground was already there.
It was solid.
That being said, I’ve had relationships that endured for a time even though they were as unstable as a leaf on a current. I think even in the midst of those relationships, I felt a sense of melancholy over an understanding that they were temporary. But there’s also a sense of exhilaration that you’re somehow defying the laws of the universe with every second you spend together.
Like Josh, I remembered those doomed relationships with fondness.
We did everything we could to keep the connection afloat. However, they weren’t meant to be, and deep down, I think we always knew that. Once it ends and the anger passes, you’re left with acceptance and nostalgia. It’s as pleasant as a nice cup of Orange Cappuccino.
It will pick you up for a while, but it can’t sustain you.
A thoughtful reflection on love and life
I often look back at my life and I’m embarrassed at how inept I was. In other instances, I’m baffled by the times I defiantly marched straight into disaster fully knowing that what I did was wrong.
Our curiosity and our passion often gets the better of us. That’s the forge we pass through to find out who we are and where we’re meant to be.
You can know something is wrong without comprehending the full weight of the consequences. Perhaps that’s what compels us to sprint headfirst into folly.
There’s a chance that reading Orange Cappuccino will mitigate the damage for a few innocent souls as they prepare to navigate a rough stretch of water. The book is written so it feels as if you’ve shared the experience. That being said, the edge of the true pain has been dulled.
Some relationships are not meant to be. Some relationships last for a few years. Some relationships last for a lifetime. It could be that Josh and Sarah and Jeremy and Katrina are right in their belief that, despite all our efforts, the current will have us in the end.
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Perhaps I've not read the right male authors. OTOH, it's more likely you're a rare breed of cat. A man who's willing to share a glimpse into his thoughts and feelings. Bravo!
Keep shining dear one♥️🌟.