“Where do you want to go?”
“I feel like Thai.” Walking out of the building, Moni took a cursory look around the parking lot. All clear. She pulled out a cigarette and lit it. “I’ll drive ‘cuz I don’t want to get smoke in your car.”
“I didn’t know you smoked.”
“That’s because no one sees me smoke around here.” Monica pulled her short self up into the seat of the burgundy SUV. She always felt as if she were climbing a tree when she got in the thing. “You like Thai?”
“Yeah,” Tracey answered. “Love it, but nobody ever wants to eat it with me.”
“Well, you’re in luck.” Monica smiled and drove them to the only Thai restaurant in town, the Siam House. When they got there, the parking lot was packed. Moni ended up parking on the grass next to the building. Inside, the small restaurant was so full that no booths or tables were left.
Then Tracey made an offer that was completely unexpected. Even as she said the words, they seemed to surprise her as well. “I don’t live far from here. We can order and eat at my house. The only thing is, I have to get my car. We can pick it up and go back to my house.”
“I like that plan.”
It actually didn’t take long to get their food. They were at Tracey’s in twenty minutes. Monica had a tough time processing the invitation. Tracey seemed like a very private person. Though she obviously had friends, she didn’t seem exceptionally close to any of them, and Moni seriously doubted she had invited any of them into her home. This woman seemed to be at war with outside perceptions all the time, even those of her family.
Monica chewed her lower lip. She didn’t know that much about Tracey but she had learned to trust her instincts. Tracey’s home was probably the only place where Tracey felt she could be herself. And, people didn’t bring judges into their one sanctuary. Monica shook her head. She didn’t want to psychoanalyze her new friend, but that’s exactly what she was doing. Still…
Monica tried to be a friend without judgment or expectation. She tried to be as open as possible to show Tracey that she could do the same.
Tracey walked into the kitchen to gather plates, silverware, and glasses. Moni took it upon herself to tour the house. “This is a nice place, Tracey.”
“Thank you. It belonged to my grandma up until she died and left it to me.”
“I’m sorry to hear about your grandmother. How long ago did she pass?”
“Thank you. It’s been years now. We were very close. This house has helped me deal with it.”
Moni nodded as she came back into the living room. “Interesting. You know, looking from the outside, you wouldn’t expect for it to be so plush in here.”
“Don’t tell the burglars.”
“Is this an authentic boomerang?”
“Yeah. My dad got that a long, long time ago when he was in the service. He gave it to me when I moved over here.”
“Did he give you all this stuff?”
“Most of it. Everything except for those shells and necklaces, which I got in St. Thomas, and those castanets and Spanish things I got when I lived in Salamanca. Oh yeah, and that stupid, plastic Eiffel Tower statue—”
“You lived in Salamanca?”
“Yeah,” Tracey responded, coming into the living room. She set two places on the coffee table. She pulled some brown and cornflower chenille cushions off the sofa and laid them on the soft Indian-style area rug. “You don’t mind sitting on the floor do you? My kitchen table is serving as extra counter space right now.”
“Girl, please, I don’t care.”
They sat down and Tracey continued, “I lived there for a year after high school. My dad thought it would be a good idea if I took a break from school, so that was my graduation gift from him. It started out that I would live in Madrid for a year, but my mama was so mad that was already out of the question.” She chuckled. “She didn’t want me going. She insisted that Spain was too dangerous, I didn’t speak the language well enough, and there were terrorists just waiting around every corner to sell young girls into slavery. So, my dad made some arrangements for me to attend a Spanish language institute in Salamanca for a year.
“The worst part about that is when I got there, Salamanca was ten times worse than Madrid ever could have been in all the ways Mama warned. I hated it there. Though I didn’t tell my folks, I spent more of my year in Paris with some friends from high school than in Spain. I believe that was the most fun I’ve ever had in my life. It was like no matter where I went or what I did or who I did it with, it was all just right. Maybe it was because I barely spoke French and didn’t fully understand anything. I don’t know. I just had this freedom I had never felt before or really since. Oh,” Tracey gasped. “I didn’t mean to go on and on like that. I try not to even mention it. Most people think I’m bragging or something when I bring it up.”
“No, it’s okay. In fact I’d like to hear about it. My oldest, Tamia, is thirteen. Her private school takes a European trip every year. Of course she can’t go until she’s sixteen, but I’d like to know what kind of experiences you had.” Then Moni had to go and put her foot in it in her normal way. “Besides, I’d like to talk about this freedom you felt you had there, and why you felt that way. In my experience, when a person feels so extraordinarily free in a removed circumstance—”
“Define ‘removed circumstance.’ ” Tracey folded her arms across her chest defensively.
Moni knew it was time to back off, but she didn’t. “A place where you’re anonymous. It’s a place where you don’t have to make any significant social contact. Well, when someone flourishes in that environment, losing inhibitions and all that, it usually means they struggle with their image of themselves.” Tracey didn’t say anything.
Moni shook her head and averted her eyes. Tracey wasn’t ready to have this kind of discussion with her, with anybody. And, as Monica’s psychological tangents sometimes did, they just snuck into the conversation without warning and took over. “I’m sorry, Tracey.” She kept her voice soft. “I can’t help it sometimes. Part of why I do what I do is that I’ve always stuck my nose into business where it didn’t belong. There’s something about you that seems very unhappy to me. I don’t know.”
“I’m not unhappy.”
“Right. My bad.” Moni leaned over to squeeze her forearm. They finished the meal in silence.
Before Monica left, she asked, “Hey, Tracey, did I tell you? I’m having an anniversary party in a few weeks. You want to come?”
“Sure.”
Moni walked out hoping Tracey meant it.