She shifted on her chair, the wood creaking beneath her. Why had she agreed to this? She could hear Valerie in the kitchen, droning on as she got some snacks together, but Anne just kept glancing at her phone, for once wishing it would ring with a work emergency. Something that would mean she needed to leave immediately. Maybe some injury lawsuit would land on her desk for her to deal with, or a client needed to sue someone for defamation. She wasn’t picky.
“So that’s when I thought, well there’s no helping someone that determined to make an ass of himself.” Her friend set a paper plate down, cheese and crackers spread out haphazardly, and settled into her chair, smiling expectantly.
“Oh, uh… yeah, there’s no helping someone like that.” Anne shifted again, reaching forward to nibble on a cracker, carefully avoiding getting crumbs on her dark suit.
The woman across from her looked almost as unchanged as the small dining room they sat in. Her brown hair still pulled back in a ponytail, those same blue eyes intent behind her glasses. There were more lines in her face now, sure, just as the curtains in the windows had faded and the wallpaper had started to peel, but time had hardly touched this place, this person.
“It’s been too long since we’ve hung out, Anne,” Valerie said. “I’ve missed you.”
“Yeah… it certainly has been a while, hasn’t it?” Anne shrugged and looked away, fiddling with the hair tie on her wrist. “You know how it is, work keeps me busy, can’t get time off to come back much.”
“You know, just the other day, I saw Tony at the mall. I was like wow, now that takes me back a minute, I could hardly believe it was him at first. Remember all those times we’d tease him for that goatee? He’s got a full beard now, it’s filled out a lot since we last saw each other. It’s a good look on him, really.” She waited a moment, and Anne obligingly made a polite noise of surprise before she continued. “Well, anyway, we chatted for a bit, and Tony’s still working at that place on Banner Road. He’s doin’ alright, and so is his missus. He said he and Walter meet up to play baseball — they’ve joined a local league or something. Walter’s been doing fine, too. It was good talking, thinking about everyone in the old gang and how much fun we used to have. God, how often did we get kicked out of the bars and go skinny dipping in that pond in the middle of the night? And then you and Walter were always trying to write your manifesto — what’d you call it again? ‘The Manifesto of Forgotten Dreams?’ You remember that?”
“The Manifesto of Forgotten Dreams and Ruined Things,” Anne said. “We were ridiculous.”
Of course she remembered. How could she not? Those years had been full of brash decisions, loud emotions — the adrenaline rush of finding something to rebel against. Just driving through town earlier had brought back those memories: memories of cheap vodka and gin, righteous anger and fights in bars, clothes dropped along the dock and waves in dark water, impassioned rants and cigarette butts on apartment balconies. It had been a miserable happiness. At the time, leaving had seemed difficult, yet it was the one decision she never regretted.
“Those were good times. Real good times,” Valerie said, a distant look in her eye.
Anne smiled tightly, and took a long sip of her lemonade.
Their conversation circled around and around, remembrances that never touched the present. With each exchange, Anne tried to puzzle out what she would’ve said ten years ago. What was the right response? Enthusiasm? Amusement? Did Valerie realize she was talking to a stranger? Anne didn’t know the girl Valerie missed. She hadn’t for years now, really. Anne remembered her, that girl with dyed hair and spray-painted jeans, but she didn’t remember what it was like to be her. She didn’t understand her, not anymore, and could barely pull together the effort needed to pretend. Would this have been easier, if they were two strangers meeting for the first time?
Anne glanced down, checking her phone again. An hour and a half had passed. No messages from her boss, but she’d spent enough time here that leaving wouldn’t be rude. She shoved down a spike of guilt and pasted a smile on her face before interrupting Valerie.
“Hey, Val, I’m sorry, I’ve really got to get going now. Just in case there’s traffic, you know how it is.”
Valerie seemed to slump slightly, brought back to the present. The hand that had punctuated her storytelling dropped to her side.
“Yeah, of course. Let me walk you out.”
They walked together and left the old, familiar rooms of that apartment, a heavy silence between them as they made their way out of the building.
“It… it was really nice talking to you, Anne. We should do this again sometime, yeah? I know you’ve got work and can’t leave the city much anymore, but… don’t be a stranger. You’ve still got people here who care about you.”
A fresh well of shame rose up in her, and Anne turned the car keys over in her hand, a long moment in which her words caught in her throat. Finally, she gave Valerie a smile, small but genuine.
“Of course, Val. It was good to see you.”
And with that, Anne got into her car and left.
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