by Nikki Harmon
“Candace is back home and she didn’t come with her family! It’s the holidays?!?! Isn’t that strange? Aren’t you excited???”
I wasn’t actually. I look at Janine and I look back down at the card trying to discern a hidden message and wondering what it means, if it means anything at all. Suddenly, I just feel tired. I look back up at Janine, who is lit up like a Christmas tree, and I smile at her. I lean to give her a big hug and I say “thank you.” I’m thinking about what a great sister she is; she’s convinced she has given me a gift of hope. She bounces out the room and back to Joe. I watch her go. It was a really great day. I’m not sure what this card means, but I guess I’ll find out soon enough. But not today, today I just want another eggnog and some pound cake and to watch The Preacher’s Wife with my mom.
~~~
Well, the next day I’m way too tired to call Candace. The day after that, I’m back to work and catching up with my co-workers and their holiday stories. The following day, I take a long run, pay my end of the year bills, donate to Alex’s Lemonade Stand, and then I’m tired. The next day I admit to myself that I am avoiding making the call. I stand in front of the mirror and take a long look at myself. Yes, I have a slight holiday rounding but I’m OK with that – it’s my winter insulation. Yes, I could get my ends cut and my hair oiled. I have a pang of regret that I cannot go back to Shari’s salon. I look at myself and wonder at my hesitation. She’s in town, she’s probably leaving soon, she wants to say “hi”, and didn’t I call and say I wanted to be friends??? Janine has me anxious. I’m being ridiculous. I pick up the phone to call Viv, but the phone rings just as I swipe it on. It’s Viv.
“Hey,” I say, “I was just about to call you. Guess what?”
“Hey, Dee. Me first. I had a shitty Christmas. You want to come out here for New Year’s? I don’t think I can take another holiday alone. It was just … so … lonely. I have some miles. I’ll buy your ticket, OK? But come. I need a friend. Please.”
I have never heard Viv sound so sad. I don’t think she has ever needed anybody for anything. The practice is not going to like it, but I have to go.
“OK. Buy the tickets – I have to be home on the 2nd though. They are going to fire me otherwise, OK?”
“Got it. I’ll call you back with the details. Stay by your phone, I may need some info. Oh, what did you want to tell me?”
“Oh, nothing. We’ll talk when I get there.”
“OK, start packing. I’m getting the earliest flight I can get.”
I call the job. I was right. Nobody is really happy about covering me again, but I make some trades and swaps – I’ll be on weekend call for the next four months – and I work it all out. I pack though I honestly have no idea what it is like in California in the winter, nor do I know what we’ll be doing. I pack the most neutral and flexible clothes I have that are clean with some fancy jewelry and hope for the best. Viv calls back in an hour and gives me the info for a red-eye. She was not playing, but I am ready. I think about calling Candace. I know I’m being a punk, but I just don’t want to face another one of my failures. I can’t take another disappointment. Some California sun is probably just what I need. And Viv.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The red-eye to Los Angeles is a great flight for people watching, but I decide to tune out and read. I picked up a new Stephen King novel in the airport and unfortunately, it keeps me awake almost the whole flight. I am a weary and red-eyed mess by the time we land. Viv, dressed in army green cargo pants and a white linen button-down shirt, greets me with a cinnamon bun and a coffee and cannot stop laughing at me.
“I feel better already!” she says and gives me a big squeeze. We drive to her modest apartment off Moorpark Street. The building is a squat modern affair with a parking lot in the back. We are greeted by her tawny and vivacious Labradoodle, Butter. Apparently it’s short for butterscotch, Butterfingers, Butterball, buttermilk, or any other number of butter words. She is adorable and friendly and clearly the apple of Viv’s eye, if you judge by the size and amount of “her” personal affects all over the apartment. Trying not to trip over Butter, I take the obligatory tour, particularly enjoying the balcony, which looks out onto a beautiful flower-filled communal courtyard. Viv is talking about something as I sit at her kitchen table. She decides to make us brunch and starts clanging around. But I start nodding and taking pity on me, she directs me to the bedroom. The last thing I see is Butter’s cute furry face up close to mine. She’s sniffing at me curiously. I close my eyes and sleep.
Viv wakes me up around 2:00 p.m.
“Can’t let you sleep too long or you’ll never be right. I packed a picnic. Let’s take a hike.” A what? Since when do we hike? That’s what I’m thinking, but I’m all disoriented and I just blink at her. “What?”
Wearing a pair of Viv’s Timberlands (she has three pairs, don’t ask why), we drive to Runyon Canyon. Of course, Butter has come with us and Viv is decked out with backpack, leash, poopy-scoop bags, a portable water bowl, snacks for us, a 2-liter water container, and a MediPack. I stand there gaping at her.
“Are you for real? Who are you and what have you done with Viv?”
“Just the Cali life, I guess. It’s beautiful outside, so we hike and well, got to be prepared.” She shrugs and pops out a walking stick from her trunk. I almost fall over laughing.
“What? It’s gets tricky sometimes, and there are coyotes, so it’s good to have a weapon just in case.”
I hop right back into the car. I hold my ground for five minutes but you know, when in Rome…. And besides, it was a bright and sunny 65-degree day. Who could obsess about mortal danger on such a nice day?
It turns out to be a beautiful hike on a well-worn trail. We pass other hikers, many with dogs, some with kids, but the majority of people just by themselves, quiet and peaceful looking. We are quiet too, mostly just keeping an eye on Butter and enjoying the challenge of the sloping hill and the emerging view below us. It feels almost rude to talk surrounded by such natural beauty, but after a while my curiosity trumped nature’s majesty.
“So, Viv. You sounded so upset on the phone. What happened at Christmas?”
She was quiet for a long time.
“Morgan has a new girlfriend. They’re getting married this spring. I found out through a mutual friend of ours. She let it slip on Christmas Eve. And so … a shitty Christmas.”
“I’m so sorry, Viv.”
“Yeah, I mean, it’s over, it’s been over, but still. Now it’s really over and I … I hope I haven’t made a mistake.”
“Viv. You moved to a place that’s always warm and sunny, you have a new job that you love, a cool apartment, and you have Butter, clearly the cutest dog in the world, and I don’t even like dogs that much.”
“Yup, you’re right. I do like my life here. It’s been good for me. I feel more calm but also, more alive. Could be all the outside air.” She smiles and keeps walking.
“Still,” she says, “it was a shitty Christmas.” We walk up a steep incline. I’m starting to get winded.
“Are we going somewhere in particular?” I ask.
“Up.”
I don’t ask any more questions. I just follow her up the path and think. We come to a fork in the trail and Viv follows sharply to the left. In a few minutes, we come out to a small clearing. There is a bench overlooking a beautiful view of the city. Someone has placed a tiny statuette of the Buddha on a rocky cliff and people have built small rock sculptures around it. Further down the hill I can see where someone used pebbles to outline a heart in the dirt. We sit down and rest. Viv pours some water for Butter and hands me a bottle. I don’t realize how thirsty I am until I take that first gulp.
“Easy, sis. You’re going to want some of that later.” I look over at Viv and she is rolling a joint. I can’t remember the last time I smoked weed. I quickly go over my schedule and figure out I won’t be back to work for four days. I can have a smoke. Viv lights it up, takes a toke and passes it to me.
I inhale and immediately cough it all back up. My second attempt, I’m smarter and take a shallower hit. Nice. I sit back and feel the sun on my face.
“So how are you doing, Dee? Over Noema I hope. That bitch!” We laugh.
“Yeah, I guess. Mostly. It was messed up though, right?”
“Yeah, so now what? Anybody new yet?”
“No…but I did get a Christmas card from Candace.” She glances over at me with a raised eyebrow. “And she was back in Philly.…” She takes another toke and passes it to me. I take another small hit and give it back. “She wanted to meet me.”
“Ahhh … here we come to it. So what happened?” She licks her fingers and pinches out the joint. I wince for her.
“Nothing happened. I never called her.” Silence. “She’s back with her husband and I don’t think I can be just friends with her. When I saw her in Santa Fe it just all came back and oh, Viv. Remember how I loved her?” I’m feeling much more relaxed now.
“Yeah, I remember. You two were good together. I was jealous.” I look at her.
“No, silly, I didn’t want you or her, but I was jealous of what you had. It was so intense and so real and so grown-up. And you were so happy, like all the time.”
“I was, wasn’t I?” I smile up at the sun.
“Look, I’m going to take Butter up to this spot where she likes to do her business. You wait here. You look peaceful. Why don’t you pray to Buddha and see if you get enlightened.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s not the way it works, Viv.”
“Whatever, Dee, just enjoy the vibe. I’ll be about 10 to fifteen minutes.” Viv untangles Butter’s leash and they exit out to a tiny trail just behind us. I listen to the wind. I can just make out the distant voices of other hikers. Somewhere, someone is singing. I study the face on the Buddha – the epitome of calm. I luxuriate in my first high in like 10 years and I think about Candace and me.
We had been good together. I try to think about all the women since Candace. The flings in college and grad school, the semi-serious girlfriends in Philly, Pepper, Noema. I can see all their faces. I can remember most of their names, but love? Did I love any of them? Yes, one or two. Did any of them love me? Maybe, but how can I be sure? What do I know about love anyway? How did I get to be 32 years old and am still so unsure about what the hell I am doing or how to love? The only love I was ever sure about was Candace and I totally ruined it.
I sit up and replay that thought. The only love I was ever sure about was Candace and I totally ruined it. After that … after I messed that up so badly, I was just lost. I lost trust. I lost confidence. I lost innocence. I lost love. I lost me, me at my best. The thought makes me groan out loud but it resonates and repeats and echoes around in my head and I know it for truth.
I hear Viv coming back through the trees, but I see Butter first. She bounds to me, giddily off the leash and jumps up on my lap. I rub her head and body. She’s so purely and completely happy, it brings tears to my eyes. Not a care in the world, that dog. Lucky dog.
We hike back down the canyon, careful of stumps and stones and rattlesnakes. We pass by people going up. I wonder if we look calm and peaceful to them. At first, I still feel the heavy airiness of the high but as we descend, I leave it behind bit by bit. What remains is the unnerving awareness that I am not whole. And I can’t un-see the gap, the chasm left in the bright, young wonderful creature that was me before I lost her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The next day is New Year’s Eve and Viv takes me “sightseeing”. First we go by her office, then to the car wash, then we walk Butter, then to Whole Foods and finally, thankfully, to In-And-Out Burger because I am starving! After I beg for some real LA culture, we finally walk down Sunset, but by then I am tired and need a nap if I’m ever going to be able to stay up for midnight. I think we drive past Drew Barrymore on our way back to her house but I can’t be sure. I squeal anyway. Viv laughs at me, of course, but I don’t care, I love Drew Barrymore!
We get back to her place by 7:00 p.m. We have a glass of wine and I lay down for a nap. Butter joins me. When Viv wakes me at 9:00 p.m., I’m ready to go but she looks tired.
“Did you sleep?” I ask her. She sits on the bed next to me.
“No.” She hesitates. “I called Morgan.” I can only just shake my head.
“I hope you didn’t do or say anything stupid,” I say, sitting up and regretting my nap.
“No. I just wanted it to be cool between us. I wanted her to know that I know and that I just want her to be happy. Even if I’m not quite there.” She looks sad but smiles at me. I lean over and hug her. She tries to pull away but I hold on.
“Viv, that was a very mature thing to do. I am utterly shocked.” She laughs but I don’t let go.
“I know you miss her, but you were right. I think this is the place for you and you deserve to be fully happy. Even if you’re not today, you will be. I know it. I feel it.”
“Thanks, Dee,” she sniffs.
I can feel my shoulder wet with her tears, but when she pulls away again, I let her.
She sits back and looks at me.
“You’re a good friend, Dee. I’m so glad we’re back in touch. I didn’t know how much I missed your friendship.”
“I feel the same way, Viv. Good friends are hard to find. Now, come on. We have to get ready to go. You promised me that we would be out having fun for the New Year and I intend to do just that. Let’s go.”
Viv walked over to the stereo, put on some Grand Central Funk, and we showered and dressed. Of course, she ended up 10 times more glamorous than I could ever aspire to. She wore a cream-colored suit with a sheer white blouse underneath. The shirt itself plunged down to her navel while the rest of the suit was fairly conservative. She even wore a pocket square. It was fine lesbian gear – sexy and strong, but expensive. I decided to play on my strengths and went with Afro-funk goddess. I picked my hair out, slithered into tight black jeans and a black leather vest, threw on my chunkiest, most fabulous African-inspired jewelry with the deepest red lipstick I own. I snapped in some vintage butterfly hair clips to give my hair some retro funk. We looked good. Very different, but good, really good.
~~~
When we pull up to The Abbey, there is a line around the block of the most beautiful people I have ever seen. Despite my own fabulousness, I am humbled. LA is some whole other shit. I groan at the line and Viv just laughs. We valet park a block down on Santa Monica, but the walk back is relaxing. The air is cool, but there is balminess that keeps it from being chilled. As we get to the line, Viv walks right past it. I rush to follow her and ask her where she’s going.
She looks at me, makes to clutch her pearls, and says with great indignation, “Dee, I thought you knew me. I wouldn’t make you fly all the way here and not have VIP passes. Chile, please.”
She shakes her head, links her arm with mine and we stroll up to the other side of the gated patio entrance. She presents our passes to the most beautiful bodyguard I have ever seen. Tall, built, and beautiful like Laila Ali, but I’m pretty sure she could kick our asses in three seconds flat, just like Laila Ali. Luckily, she just nods at us and I take a deep breath as we go in.
The place is huge and full of glitter. No, really. The dancers up on the bars are literally tossing handfuls of glitter onto dancers on the floor. They twirl around in it like figures in a snow globe. The place is beautiful with gleaming dark wood floors, vaulted beamed ceilings, and rough brick walls contrasting with the slate patio entrance. But it’s the people that really dazzle. I remind myself that aspiring actors and models come out to Hollywood to become stars. These aren’t normal people.
Viv looks around then smiles at me. We head to the closest bar. She orders us two Black Lilies. I raise my eyebrow at her, but when the drinks come 15 minutes later and I take my first sip, I understand. That is one spicy little number and it melted away any nerves I may have had. We take a quick selfie. Well, we take a few until we get a perfect one, and then
we slowly make our way around the different levels of the club. Viv introduces me to a few people she knows, but mostly we just people-watch and scope out the women. As two of the few African-American women there, we get noticed and a few women catch my attention. But honestly, these are not my people and I think I’d rather just dance with the boys.
I set down my empty glass and head onto the dance floor. Viv follows me and we jam to re-mixed Madonna classics. I lose myself in the lights and music, but wave to her when she heads off the floor. I dance with a sexy young boy for a few, then turn to find a short brunette all over me. I give her my best fever and then turn to give it to a blonde with a pixie cut. I take in the joy all around me and revel in not knowing a soul.
The DJ announces that it is five minutes to the New Year and the bars load up with glasses of champagne. I step off the floor to grab one as I look around for Viv. I finally find her on the dance floor with a curvy and very pretty Latina woman. I love watching Viv dance. She is sheer sophisticated raunchiness. I make my way over to them. The DJ lowers the music and starts the countdown.
“15, 14, 13….”
Viv points to her friend and yells, “Dee, this is Elena, Elena, this is my best friend, Dee.” We smile and wave “hello” and we all join in the countdown. “…. 4, 3, 2, 1!”
I sip my champagne, Viv kisses her new friend, and the whole club erupts in celebration. I get sloshed with champagne; Viv grabs mine and finishes it off then gives me a big bear hug. “I love you, Celie!” I laugh and laugh. I haven’t felt this good in a while. The DJ somehow mixes Kool and the Gang’s “Celebration” with “Turn Down for What” and the whole club piles onto the floor. We dance ourselves into a frenzy.
I finally need a rest and start off the dance floor when I feel my purse vibrate. I back into a corner and check my phone. I have a text from my sister. It says, “Happy New Year to the best sister a girl ever had! I hope you and Viv are having fun.” She attached a picture of her and Joe wearing party hats and blowing noisemakers. I smile and quickly send the picture of Viv and me with a similar message.
