Wait for the Rain

Home > Other > Wait for the Rain > Page 7
Wait for the Rain Page 7

by Murnane, Maria


  Daphne put a hand on KC’s arm. “Speaking of the water, have you ever seen water so green? It’s like toothpaste, don’t you think?”

  Skylar made a sour face. “What kind of toothpaste do people use in Ohio? That sounds disgusting.”

  “This place really is out of a movie set,” Daphne said. “Not that I have anything to compare it to, but high rolling with Skylar kind of feels like hanging out with a celebrity, so it’s almost like we’re in a movie right now.”

  KC turned her head as if on a swivel. “So is this the scene where the handsome stranger sends over a bottle of champagne? Skylar, does that sort of thing happen to you?”

  Skylar smirked and picked up the menu. “Shush, both of you. My job is light years from Hollywood, and you both know it. Now, let’s order.” She reached into her purse and removed a pair of designer reading glasses from a sleek black case.

  KC laughed and pulled out her own glasses case, although decidedly less fancy. She waggled it in the air. “You too?”

  Skylar nodded and frowned. “Horrifying, isn’t it? I was in denial for months, but I finally caved over Christmas after my nieces and nephews made fun of me for holding the presents away from my eyes so I could read who they were from.”

  KC laughed. “I was in denial until Max threw his pair across the breakfast table and told me to put them on. He said for weeks he’d been watching me do the same thing with the newspaper and he couldn’t take it anymore.”

  Skylar looked at Daphne. “What about you? Have your eyes betrayed you yet?”

  Daphne shook her head. “Not yet. But then again, as we know, I’m still in my thirties.”

  “Touché,” Skylar said with a dry smile. “What about your hair? Have you yanked out any wiry grays yet?”

  Daphne immediately touched the sides of her head. Do I need to be pulling hairs out? She’d noticed a stray gray here and there but hadn’t done anything about it. Were they obvious? She was too afraid to ask. “Not yet,” she said.

  Skylar tapped her left temple. “I call the worst offenders angry hairs, you know, the ones that grow in every direction besides down? I hate those little buggers. I started yanking after my little niece asked me if I had tinsel in my hair. That was quite a rude awakening, to say the least.”

  KC laughed. “That’s hilarious. In my book, gray hair is a badge of honor, like you’ve earned it!” She tapped her heart.

  “I have zero interest in reading that book,” Skylar said. “My hairdresser says I’m not ready to color it yet, but when the day comes, I’m heading straight to the salon to take the plunge.”

  “I’m going natural all the way,” KC said. “Like a cotton ball.”

  “I bet even with a head of white fluff, you won’t seem old,” Daphne said. “You’re too much like a little kid.”

  “I wear compression socks when I run sometimes,” KC said. “Does that count for something?”

  Skylar laughed. “I don’t even know how to respond to that.”

  As they perused the menu, Daphne stole a glance at Skylar, who, even with reading glasses perched on the bridge of her nose, looked put together and on top of things, as if she knew something no one else in the room did. She looked confident. Successful. Classy. An impeccable package she’d created all on her own.

  When was the last time Daphne had felt any of those things about herself? Where had her self-confidence gone? Where had she gone?

  “Daphne, hon, you there?” Skylar said.

  Daphne looked up from her menu to see KC, Skylar, and the waiter all staring at her. She felt her cheeks flush.

  “Are you okay, Daphne?” KC looked concerned. “You disappeared for a moment there.”

  Daphne nodded. “Yep, totally fine, just taking everything in.”

  “Are you ready to order?” Skylar gestured to the waiter.

  Daphne looked up at him. “Oh yes, of course. Sorry. I’ll . . . I’ll have the mixed green salad and the glazed salmon, thank you.” She closed her menu and handed it to him.

  Once he was gone, Skylar tapped her fork against her glass a couple times, then lifted it up. “I’d like to make a toast to us: the Three Musketeers together again, at last.”

  “Aw, I love you guys,” KC said.

  “You love everything,” Skylar said. “But seriously, can you believe we met when we were eighteen years old, and now we’re forty? That means we’ve been friends for more than half our lives.”

  “Wow,” Daphne said under her breath. “That’s cool but kind of scary too.”

  “Totally,” KC whispered back.

  Skylar kept talking. “Yes, my dears, we’ve been friends for more than twenty years now. It seems like just yesterday the three of us were wearing scrunchies and drinking wine coolers from a straw in the dorms. Thank God the digital age wasn’t around when we were in college. If any of those photos got out, my meticulously constructed image as a serious businesswoman would be in serious jeopardy.”

  Daphne sipped her drink. “That’s for sure. Remember that time you made out with Jason Green in the study lounge with the glass windows and didn’t know there were like ten of us watching?”

  KC raised her hand as if in a classroom. “I remember! That was awesome. People were taking bets on when you two would come up for air.”

  Skylar closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Apparently I had blocked that incident from my memory, but thank you both for reminding me. Now I get to relive it in all its classy glory.”

  Daphne smiled. “You’re very welcome. And for the record, you were very classy. It was quite PG-13, from what I remember.”

  KC held up a finger. “Also for the record, I never wore a scrunchie because they fall out too easily when I run. My go-to look was the reverse french braid, if you remember. I rocked that thing.”

  Daphne held up a finger too. “Also for the record, while I admit to the scrunchie thing, I’m not forty yet. I still have two more days in my thirties, so don’t drag me down with you just yet.”

  Skylar sighed dramatically. “Jeez, Louise, I’m trying to give a toast here. Will you two please shut down the peanut gallery and let me finish?”

  “Of course, I’m sorry. We didn’t mean to cause a kerfuffle.” Daphne reached for her sangria.

  KC giggled. “You and your SAT vocabulary. Who uses the word kerfuffle?”

  Skylar snapped her fingers twice. “Focus, ladies, focus. It’s clear you’re not used to drinking sangria.”

  Daphne and KC both sat at attention and looked at her as she stood ceremoniously.

  “Okay then,” Skylar said with a nod, then cleared her throat. “Anyhow, I’d officially like to thank both of you for joining me in what I’m sure will be a trip I will remember forever. Despite our earlier conversation about age, turning forty is a big deal, and I can’t think of two women I’d rather celebrate the occasion with than you, two of the smartest, kindest, most interesting people I’ve had the pleasure of meeting in my life. And believe me, I’ve met a lot of people. I know I don’t see either of you very often, but I think of you often, and I want you to know that I love you both very much. So here’s to the Three Musketeers, together forever.” She sat down and clinked her glass against KC’s, then Daphne’s.

  KC reached over and put a hand on Skylar’s shoulder. “That was a beautiful toast. You’re going to make me cry.”

  “No I won’t.” Skylar immediately shook her head. “You never cry. You’re always too freaking happy to cry. Of all those people I just said I’ve met in my life, none of them has ever been as happy as you.”

  “I could cry tears of joy?” KC said, a hopeful expression on her face.

  Skylar rolled her eyes. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

  KC grinned at her. “Okay, you’re probably right.”

  Skylar set down her glass and reached for her purse. “To commem
orate the occasion that has brought us here, I thought you both might like to see something. Do you ladies remember this?” She removed a small pink notebook.

  Daphne caught her breath at the sight of the leather binding. “Is that . . . Daisy the diary?”

  Skylar held the book against her chest. “The one and only.”

  “I can’t believe you still have her,” Daphne said. “Do you still make entries?”

  Skylar laughed. “Oh God no. I haven’t touched the thing since college. I can’t believe I found her, to be honest. But I’m so glad I did. I thought you two might want to read what you wrote in good ol’ Daisy at the end of our senior year. Do you remember when we each predicted what our lives would be like twenty years after graduation?”

  “No way! I forgot all about that!” KC said.

  Skylar smiled. “I know it hasn’t been quite twenty years, but close enough. Should we see what we each wrote? I haven’t read it yet because I thought it would be fun to wait until tonight. I have absolutely no memory of what I predicted.”

  KC wiggled her fingers at the diary. “I wanna see! Gimme.”

  “Only if you read what you wrote out loud,” Skylar said. “I’ll go first.” She opened the diary to a bookmarked page in the back and began to speak. “In twenty years I will be CEO of a large company, probably in New York or London.” She shrugged, then handed the book to KC. “Getting there, I guess.”

  “You’re more than getting there,” KC said. “You’re a rock star.” She began to skim the page. “Okay, what did I write . . . Here it is! In twenty years I will be leading a Peace Corps unit in South America or Africa.” She laughed and handed the diary to Daphne. “Hey, that’s not bad! I’m hardly leading a unit, but I did join the Peace Corps for a couple years.”

  “Well done,” Skylar said. “Your turn, Daphne.”

  Daphne scanned to her section of the page, then quietly began to read. “In twenty years I will be an award-winning journalist.”

  A brief yet undeniably awkward silence followed, none of them sure what to say. Skylar looked like she was about to speak, but then the waiter returned with their entrées, followed by a busboy who refilled their water glasses. Once they were gone, Skylar quietly tucked the diary back into her purse and pressed her palms together. “Alright then, my official work at this dinner is done. Enough of the speeches and emotional mumbo jumbo, blah blah blah. Let’s get to the good stuff.”

  “Good stuff?” KC raised her eyebrows. “You mean as in dessert?”

  Skylar sighed. “I mean as in girl talk, Einstein. We’re forty. We’re not dead.”

  Daphne lifted a forkful of salmon and willed herself to smile at Skylar. “I think I’d pay to watch you in a meeting with your staff. I bet it’s pretty entertaining.” I was going to be an award-winning journalist.

  “Oh yes, I run a tight ship,” Skylar said, then tilted her glass toward KC. “So tell us, what’s it like being married to a man in his fifties? I’ve never dated anyone that old, I mean that much older. You know what I mean.”

  KC cut into her mahimahi. “It’s pretty great. He’s emotionally mature, a fantastic life partner, my best friend and confidant: everything I could ask for, to be honest.”

  Skylar narrowed her eyes. “Really?”

  KC swatted Skylar’s arm. “Yes, really. Why are you so surprised?”

  “I guess I’m just cynical that you can find all that in one person.”

  “Then I guess I’m just lucky,” KC said with a grin.

  “He’s lucky,” Daphne said to her.

  KC put a hand over her heart. “Aw, thanks, Daphne.”

  Daphne took a big sip of her sangria. I used to think I’d found all that in Brian. I couldn’t see that it was an illusion of my own making. I was too young.

  Skylar looked at KC. “How old exactly is Max?”

  “He’ll be fifty-three in August,” KC said.

  Skylar leaned back in her chair. “No wonder you’re not fazed by the idea of turning forty. You’re always going to feel young in Max’s circle. Maybe I should start dating older men too, then I won’t have to worry about my wrinkles when I smile.”

  Daphne pictured the wrinkle cream in her bathroom.

  “I’m thinking about trying Botox,” Skylar added. “It might be time.”

  Daphne turned her head. “You are?” She’d never heard anyone outright mention Botox before, although she suspected a good chunk of the women in Columbus had done it. Daphne was one of the youngest mothers at Emma’s school, but many of the others appeared to defy their age in ways that seemed less than natural. Then again, she’d bought wrinkle cream, so who was she to judge? They were all fighting the same war, just with different weapons.

  Skylar nodded. “I figure if it makes me feel better about my appearance, what’s the harm? When I feel good about my appearance, I feel good about myself.”

  KC smiled at her. “I’ve always loved that about you. You do what makes you happy, period. Screw what anyone else thinks.”

  Skylar tipped her head. “Why, thank you.”

  “You have that quality too,” Daphne said to KC. “I’ve always admired that.”

  “We all have it. That’s why we gravitate toward each other,” Skylar said. “The cream rises to the top for a reason.”

  Daphne wished she were half as secure as her friends. For better or for worse, they knew who they were inside, and they were at peace with it. She struggled to stay focused on the conversation, trying to dissolve the images floating around in her head. Of her empty house in Ohio. Of the family photos now boxed up in the garage. Stop it! You weren’t happy in that life! It’s time to move on! This time she dug a fingernail into her palm to snap herself out of the trance. KC and Skylar had moved on to another topic of conversation.

  “So how was your fortieth anyway?” Skylar crossed her knife and fork on her plate to indicate that she was done with her entrée.

  “It was fun,” KC said. “Nothing crazy.”

  “What did you do to celebrate?” Daphne asked, grateful that they hadn’t noticed her drifting off . . . again. Or if they had, that they hadn’t pointed it out.

  KC’s eyes got a little brighter. “Well, in the morning Max and I went for a long run on the beach.”

  Skylar pretended to shoot herself in the head. “Of course you did. I’d rather wax my lady bits than go for a long run on any morning, much less my birthday. But go on.”

  KC looked from Skylar to Daphne. “After our run Max showered and went to the office, and then a couple of my girlfriends took me to a yummy lunch at my favorite Mexican restaurant. Then that night Max put together a little dinner party at the house. Nothing crazy, just three couples, including us.”

  “He cooked for you?” Daphne asked. Brian had never cooked for her. Actually, that wasn’t true. Before they were married, he’d made her a handful of candlelit dinners, but that stopped after Emma was born. So much had stopped after Emma was born, and then the miscarriages happened. I was going to write for the New York Times.

  KC nodded. “Max loves to cook. I think that night he made shrimp scampi. That man has many talents, I tell you. Then after dinner we all walked downtown to play Bingo.”

  Skylar coughed. “Please tell me I heard that wrong.”

  KC grinned. “I can’t say that you did.”

  Daphne cocked her head to one side. “You really played Bingo?”

  “You bet we did,” KC said. “And we rocked it.”

  Skylar groaned and set her drink on the table. “You realize that you turned forty, not eighty right? Good lord.”

  “Trust me, it’s not as bad as it sounds,” KC said. “This time of year they have Bingo every Friday at this bar called Watermans, which is on the main drag off Hermosa Beach that runs right up to the shoreline. It’s all for charity, and it’s packed with people of all ages. Trust
me, we weren’t the youngest people there, and we weren’t the oldest either; kind of a rowdy crowd, but all in good fun. It’s a blast, and they have some cool prizes too. Max won a pair of really nice snowboarding goggles.”

  Daphne flinched at the word snowboarding, her mind suddenly yanked to Park City. Her imagination began to torment her again, pinching her insides with a vision of a smiling Emma, Brian, and Alyssa perched on top of a snowcapped mountain, posing for a new family photo.

  Grieving for the future she thought would be hers, for the family unit she’d spent years trying to keep intact, Daphne took a sip of water and balled her free hand into a fist under the table. Please stop torturing yourself. You don’t deserve this. Let it go.

  “So what’s going on with your love life? Who’s your latest boyfriend?” KC was asking Skylar.

  Skylar took a sip of sangria. “Currently it’s an Italian named Antonio, although his turn in the rotation is just about up.”

  The comment jolted Daphne back into the present, and she looked at Skylar. “You’re still doing the rotation system?” she asked.

  “I am. It’s not necessarily what I envisioned for myself at this age, but it works for me, and if I’ve learned anything in my life, it’s that you have to go with what works for you.”

  “Amen to that. How many are in the rotation right now?” KC asked.

  Skylar closed her eyes and counted on her fingers. “These days it’s Antonio, Michael, and Trevor. Oh! And Kristoff. Yikes, almost forgot Kristoff. He’s new.”

  KC laughed. “I’ve never been able to keep track of all your men. You’re amazing.”

  “It really is impressive,” Daphne said. “When we were roommates, our answering machine was always on overdrive. Remember that time when you were dating two guys named Ben at the same time? I have no idea how you pulled that one off.”

  Skylar shrugged. “I like men, what can I say? Plus, my system keeps life interesting.”

  “So how does the rotation work exactly?” KC asked.

  “There’s no formal structure to it. They just kind of come and go in waves, and some of them circle back around after a while. Some never cycle back in, however. It really depends on a lot of factors. Some move away or get married. Or it just fizzles. I hang out with each guy for a month or two, and then before we get a chance to start bickering or anything, I move on to the next one. I have enough drama to deal with at work; I don’t need it in my personal life too. With the rotation, I’m able to keep things light and playful, which is all I really want from a relationship. I have my sisters and girlfriends for the deeper stuff.”

 

‹ Prev