Dinner at the Diner?
It was so unexpected that I wondered if it was a joke. I let it sit for a moment. I thought back to how Crissy had looked at me the day before. She hadn’t said more than a dozen words to me all week and now, out of nowhere, she wanted to go for dinner?
I texted back: Seriously?
It’s been too long, she texted back.
I stared at this response for a good half minute. The Diner used to be our favorite restaurant…
My phone vibrated again. Cleary wants to come as well.
Cleary Hewson?
Cleary Hewson? I texted.
Yeah. She says she really misses us.
I hadn’t spoken to Cleary in the better part of a year. There was no rift. No real reason. We just ran in different circles now and rarely saw one another. Back in grade school, Crissy, Cleary and I were always together. We’d even made shirts with CCH on the front. But that was ages ago.
I dropped my phone on my bed and picked up the stack of photos on my dresser. I flicked through them until I found the one I was looking for. It was from almost two years ago. It was the last day of school, and Crissy, Cleary and I had run into one another on the way out. I’d been part of the yearbook committee, so I’d had my camera with me. We still used film cameras then. The school had since removed the darkroom, meaning that the photo I had in my hand could have been one of the last ones ever developed there.
We looked happy. And not just last-day-of-school happy. We looked like we were the best of friends, lined up beside one another being completely goofy.
We looked like three little kids.
I finally texted Crissy back. Did she contact you?
Yeah, she called me.
And you want to go to the Diner? The three of us? There was a long pause after I sent this.
Then the reply: I really miss the way we used to be.
I thought about that for a moment. I stared out the window at the well-trimmed lawns. The Subarus and Volvos parked in driveways. The teams of landscape artists working their way through people’s gardens. This whole opera situation was only a couple of months out of our entire lives. It would come, then go. It was possible that Crissy and I would be best friends again. I knew Crissy. I knew she could fall so deeply into her pursuits that she could lose her identity, at least for a while. But she had always climbed back out again. She was entirely capable of being the person I’d always known. If this was her reaching out to me, I would be wrong to not reach back.
Ok, I texted back.
OK!?
ok.
This is going to be awesome. CCH rides again. Meet at 6:00?
ok.
I put my phone down and held on to the photo.
* * *
I walked to The Diner under a bright, early-evening sky. The day had been warm, but a late-afternoon thundershower had cooled the air. It was the first time in a while that I didn’t feel sticky and gross. There was even a breeze moving down the street. And after all the time I’d been spending inside Paterson Center, it felt good to be outside.
As I turned the final corner, I noticed Mrs. Derrick pulling away from the curb. It felt like old times. Mrs. Derrick had always had to drop Crissy off after a rehearsal or lesson. Cleary and I had often had a half hour to ourselves, drinking water and watching out the window for Crissy to arrive so we could order. This time I was the late one.
Crissy and Cleary were in one of the large long booths against the back wall. Crissy was on one side, right on the edge of the bench. Cleary was on the other, leaning against the wall. They had water in front of them but nothing else.
“Hailey!” Crissy said as I approached. She stood and threw her arms around me. Her hold was fleeting, yet hard. Like she was grabbing on to me so I wouldn’t turn and run away.
“Crissy,” I said when she released me. I waited, wondering if she would say something about how she had been behaving. She flashed me a smile and then quickly returned to her seat. She didn’t leave any room for me to slide in beside her. I
It was so unexpected that I wondered if it was a joke. I let it sit for a moment. I thought back to how Crissy had looked at me the day before. She hadn’t said more than a dozen words to me all week and now, out of nowhere, she wanted to go for dinner?
I texted back: Seriously?
It’s been too long, she texted back.
I stared at this response for a good half minute. The Diner used to be our favorite restaurant…
My phone vibrated again. Cleary wants to come as well.
Cleary Hewson?
Cleary Hewson? I texted.
Yeah. She says she really misses us.
I hadn’t spoken to Cleary in the better part of a year. There was no rift. No real reason. We just ran in different circles now and rarely saw one another. Back in grade school, Crissy, Cleary and I were always together. We’d even made shirts with CCH on the front. But that was ages ago.
I dropped my phone on my bed and picked up the stack of photos on my dresser. I flicked through them until I found the one I was looking for. It was from almost two years ago. It was the last day of school, and Crissy, Cleary and I had run into one another on the way out. I’d been part of the yearbook committee, so I’d had my camera with me. We still used film cameras then. The school had since removed the darkroom, meaning that the photo I had in my hand could have been one of the last ones ever developed there.
We looked happy. And not just last-day-of-school happy. We looked like we were the best of friends, lined up beside one another being completely goofy.
We looked like three little kids.
I finally texted Crissy back. Did she contact you?
Yeah, she called me.
And you want to go to the Diner? The three of us? There was a long pause after I sent this.
Then the reply: I really miss the way we used to be.
I thought about that for a moment. I stared out the window at the well-trimmed lawns. The Subarus and Volvos parked in driveways. The teams of landscape artists working their way through people’s gardens. This whole opera situation was only a couple of months out of our entire lives. It would come, then go. It was possible that Crissy and I would be best friends again. I knew Crissy. I knew she could fall so deeply into her pursuits that she could lose her identity, at least for a while. But she had always climbed back out again. She was entirely capable of being the person I’d always known. If this was her reaching out to me, I would be wrong to not reach back.
Ok, I texted back.
OK!?
ok.
This is going to be awesome. CCH rides again. Meet at 6:00?
ok.
I put my phone down and held on to the photo.
* * *
I walked to The Diner under a bright, early-evening sky. The day had been warm, but a late-afternoon thundershower had cooled the air. It was the first time in a while that I didn’t feel sticky and gross. There was even a breeze moving down the street. And after all the time I’d been spending inside Paterson Center, it felt good to be outside.
As I turned the final corner, I noticed Mrs. Derrick pulling away from the curb. It felt like old times. Mrs. Derrick had always had to drop Crissy off after a rehearsal or lesson. Cleary and I had often had a half hour to ourselves, drinking water and watching out the window for Crissy to arrive so we could order. This time I was the late one.
Crissy and Cleary were in one of the large long booths against the back wall. Crissy was on one side, right on the edge of the bench. Cleary was on the other, leaning against the wall. They had water in front of them but nothing else.
“Hailey!” Crissy said as I approached. She stood and threw her arms around me. Her hold was fleeting, yet hard. Like she was grabbing on to me so I wouldn’t turn and run away.
“Crissy,” I said when she released me. I waited, wondering if she would say something about how she had been behaving. She flashed me a smile and then quickly returned to her seat. She didn’t leave any room for me to slide in beside her. I
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