Every Day

 

IT HIT ODETTE while she was putting away the cookie sheets after she and Gary had finished baking for the day: Mieko didn’t know about the phone.

It was true that they’d fought, but it was also true that they were best friends.

She had to call Mieko. She had to call at once.

“Gary, I need to go,” she said, closing the pantry and wiping her hands on her apron.

“Okay, then,” he said. Nothing ever seemed to bother Gary, and he always looked so fancy. Today he was wearing purple corduroy trousers and a light pink shirt under a dark pink sweater vest.

“Gary.” Odette paused before heading upstairs. “How come you always dress so nice?”

“Because every day is a special occasion,” he answered.

“How can every day be special?” Odette asked. “Doesn’t that kind of go against the whole idea of what ‘special’ means?”

Gary untied his apron and folded it neatly. “Every day is special,” he said, “because you only get one chance at it.”

“That sounds like a lot of pressure.”

“I suppose that’s one way to look at it,” said Gary.

Upstairs, Odette used Grandma Sissy’s home phone to call Mieko. Hers was one number Odette had memorized; she had been dialing it for the last three years, since the Christmas they were both ten and they had each gotten a cell phone. Even though Odette had it programmed in her phone, she liked to punch in the pattern of numbers that connected her to her friend.

It rang three times before Mieko answered, and when she did, it was with a tentative “Hello?”

“Mieko, it’s me.”

“Odette!” Mieko shrieked so loudly that Odette had to hold the phone away from her ear, but she didn’t complain. “Oh my god, I thought something terrible had happened to you! I called and called and you never called me back. I must have left you, like, a hundred messages. I thought your island had sunk or something.”

“Not the island,” Odette said. “Just the phone.” And she plopped on Grandma Sissy’s chair and told Mieko everything: about the phone sinking in the ocean and Harris and her ridiculous lobster pajama bottoms and Grandma Sissy being so sick. She explained to Mieko about the Death with Dignity Act, about the bottles of medication in Grandma Sissy’s bathroom cabinet.

“But that’s just awful,” Mieko said.

Part of Odette agreed, but another part didn’t. “I don’t know,” she said. “What about your cat?”

“That was different,” Mieko said. “He was an animal.”

Then they were quiet again, but they were still together on the phone. Odette liked that, knowing that Mieko was right there.

“Hey, Odette?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry about the other day. About what I said.”

“Me too,” said Odette.