Chapter 6: Cava

 

There are friends who you need to tell when something is wrong. And then there are friends who just know when it’s time to show up with dinner and wine. Serena’s friend Natalie was the second type of friend. Serena got two texts, one right after the other. The first was from Tom, saying he would be working late that night. The next was from Natalie: dinner + drinks. Don’t say no. Serena was tired of being in a funk and she thought a night with Natalie could be just what she needed, so she sent a text back: yes.

When the doorbell rang, Serena was doing laundry as Maggie played with some magnetic tiles on the ground. Serena could feel her friend’s smile even before she opened the door.

“Hello, look what I have,” Natalie beamed, holding up a bag of food and a bottle of Cava—a Spanish sparkling wine the girls had grown to love when they traveled to Spain together in college. Serena couldn’t help but smile at the bottle and the memories it evoked. That warm night on the beach in San Sebastián where they rolled up their pants and skipped through the water. The walks through Park Güell—enjoying Gaudi’s whimsy. Serena never felt more alive than on that trip. She was 3,972 miles away from her mother and could be anything she wanted. The girls would eat Padrón peppers and pluck off the tops like daisies as they talked about their lives and who they wanted to be.

“Come in, come in.” Serena gave Natalie a big hug. She took the food and put it on the counter while grabbing two wine glasses.

“That’s my girl.” Natalie smirked. “Wine first. Talk second.”

“Ha. I just figured we could go chill for a little and catch up.”

The two friends sat on the couch. With Maggie absorbed in her play, Serena quickly put the folded laundry into the basket.

“Hold on there.” Natalie stopped and pointed to a neat stack of all nude-colored underwear. “Seriously? That’s the most boring underwear I’ve ever seen. No polka dots? No pink?”

“Do I seem like someone that would have fun underwear? Do you not remember me in college?”

“No. That’s true. But pleeeasse tell me there’s at least one lacy one hiding somewhere. For Tom’s sake. Or for yours. Your body rocks, even after having a baby. You should love it, or at least not bore it with plain underwear.” Natalie laughed. Serena did, too, but just a little, because the thought of Tom and all that their relationship wasn’t stung a bit too much.

“Did you really come all this way to talk about my underwear?” Serena joked.

“No, of course not. I came to see how you were.” Natalie put her glass down and put her hand lightly on her friend. “How are you? Really? Do you want to talk, not talk? I’ll do anything. I just know when I lost my Paps, it was hard. And, well, I can’t imagine losing a parent. I mean, I loved my grandfather but . . .” Natalie quieted down to let the rest of the words be said silently.

“Honestly. I’m grouchy. Sometimes I’m pissed off. Some days I’m fine. Some days I think if I have to look at cancer cells at work one more time I’m going to scream. But then there’s Mags. That helps. You can’t totally lose it if you’re a mom.” Serena laughed as if to lighten that statement.

***

“Where is Mom?” Serena asked. Abigail had gotten together a bunch of crackers and cheese and dumped them on the table.

“I don’t know. She left this morning.”

The girls ate the food quietly, not sure what to do next. Four hours later, they repeated the crackers and cheese for lunch. Every so often keeping an eye on the door. At last around 4:30 that afternoon their mom came through the door. She saw the girls and said, “Keep playing. I need to lie down.”

When their dad came home for dinner that night and found Barbara in bed, they could hear his worried voice. They didn’t tell him they had been home all day alone. But he made them all grilled cheese sandwiches and let them have cookies after dinner. Then he taught them how to call their aunt on the telephone in case it ever happened again.

***

Natalie instinctively got up and started taking out the food she brought, getting out plates and opening each drawer to find where the utensils were.

“You don’t have to do that. I can help,” said Serena, getting up.

“Yes. You’re very capable. Let me dote on you. It’s what friends do.” Serena sat at the counter, always amazed at how her friend could make her feel relaxed. “So. You’ll never guess who I saw last week? Twigs!”

“No way!” Serena started laughing at how much they hated Twigs in college. Her real name was Jessica; the name Twigs came from her extra-long arms, which were always extended because she knew the answer to every tough question.

“Twigs was damn smart,” Serena admitted. “How is she doing?”

“No idea. I literally saw her coming and hid in the freezer aisle. Like, pulled the door open and pretended freezer waffles were so interesting until she passed.”

“You should have talked to her!”

“No. Just so I could tell her that I hate my job, and she was right, math was not my strong suit? No way. Plus, I was wearing crap clothes and hadn’t done my hair.” Serena grabbed her phone and searched up Jessica Hoffman. And there she was, smiling on Facebook with her two sons in matching argyle sweaters. “Excuse me while I vomit,” Natalie said but pulled the phone closer to inspect the picture. “She’s a fucking surgeon.”

“Shhh. Maggie can hear you.” Serena checked, but Maggie was playing with her toy, oblivious to them or their language. “Yeah, I kinda knew that.”

“What? How could you not warn me that she was lurking in our hood?”

“She does a lot of breast reconstruction surgery for women who have had cancer.”

“Fuck. And she’s honorable.” Natalie hid her head in her arm in defeat and mouthed, “Sorry about the fuck.”

The Cava and easy conversation had gotten to Serena and she just couldn’t stop giggling.

Natalie laughed too. “Cheers to Twigs.”

“To Twigs,” said Serena and she smiled in a way she hadn’t in quite a while.