True spring weather is just around the corner, and so is the grand opening of Sophie’s café/bakery. The construction crew has torn down the last wall that was up for consideration, and they’ve successfully added on any new walls and countertops that Sophie finally decided upon.
“What’s left?” I ask. “Aside from the paint?”
“Too much,” Sophie says with a sigh. “At least the really expensive part is over with. With the bulk of the construction crew gone, now all that I really need help with is the lighting.” She points up at the ceiling where, save for the stark white bleakness of it, are some holes with protruding twists of wires. “I’ve ordered a gorgeous chandelier to go right in the center up here.”
“Oh, wow,” Robin says. “That’ll be beautiful. What a fun concept!”
“I got the idea from this salon in Paris,” Sophie says, scratching behind her ear. “Where I went to get my hair cut. Such a cute place, so sophisticated and quaint. So…Parisian. They had this breathtaking chandelier, and I think a piece like that would really make a statement here. Lots of light, but with chic style…”
“Perfect,” I agree. “And that’s it? Lighting? Paint?” I’m counting out the items with my fingers. “Obviously the furniture and appliances and stuff…”
Sophie sets down her Peet’s Coffee cup and walks behind the front counter. She knocks on the top of it and says, “I need to get these tiled. I already have the tiles picked out. Robin’s helping with the grout color.”
“Almost done,” Robin says.
Robin: the hobby painter, and book cover artist by trade. Of course she’d be the ideal girl to get advice from when choosing grout. I may know my way around decoupage and rather basic furniture refinishes, but when it comes to having a fine artistic eye and knack for choosing complementary colors, Robin’s the natural choice.
“The bathroom needs lighting, tiling, and then basic decorative knick-knack thingies,” Sophie continues. “Kitchen is just about ready. Need to get all of the appliances installed…” She looks around, making a complete circle. “Yeah, that’s about it. Crazy, huh? Oh! And, of course,” walking back over to us, “setting up the tables and seating areas…all of the little decorative touches and things. Especially up front. That will be the fun part, though.” She plops back down into her squeaky chair, tucking one foot under her rear.
“And with the paint already chosen,” Robin says, “it’ll be a breeze to decorate.”
“Well,” I say, leaping up, “what do you say to going out and buying some buckets of paint then?”
“And, like, actually begin painting?” Robin says, looking from Sophie to me, and back and forth again, slowly and slyly.
“We’ve got the clothes already.” I gesture to my yoga outfit.
“Can we?” Robin says. She looks at Sophie imploringly.
“The walls are primed and ready. Chad and some of his friends came over and did all of that already.” She gives a half-grin. “So…yeah. I guess we technically can paint.”
“Chad, eh?” I tease.
“Please,” Sophie says. She grabs her keys from the makeshift table, snags her coffee cup, and ushers us to the door. “Don’t get started with that again.”
“What am I missing here?” Robin inquires. She pushes her glasses further up onto her nose.
“Nothing,” Sophie says. “Nothing at all.”
“Come on,” I say. “You? Chad? You actually asking him to come help you out? To be around you? You two together is—”
“Volatile,” Robin finishes.
“Is not,” Sophie says.
“Okay, maybe not all the time.” I get into the backseat of Robin’s car, tossing the pink, stuffed bear that’s on my seat into Rose’s adjacent car seat. “You inviting Chad over to help with your shop, though… Let’s put it this way: He’s not your first choice to help, eh?”
Sophie slides into the passenger seat and looks back at me. “No,” she answers like a stubborn girl. “For your information, I wasn’t around when he was priming, and I didn’t ask for his help. Of course, I’m willing to take it if he’s nice and can behave himself.”
I start to smile.
“Stop teasing me,” Sophie says. “If Chad wants to help I’d be a fool not to take him up on it.”
Robin pulls out of the parking lot and, after checking with Sophie about the hardware store we’re headed to, says, “That’s true. So, you really didn’t ask for Chad’s help at all? He just up and offered?”
“That’s right,” Sophie replies. She turns back around in her seat and gets situated comfortably. “He offered to help. All his idea. He said he and some of his roommates knew I could use a hand, and they wouldn’t mind helping out.”
“Yeah?” I can’t contain my joy. I’m wearing a full-on wide grin now. Was there something going on between Sophie and Chad? Again?
“I promised them free baked goods…free coffee…” Sophie says dismissively. “Whatever. The point is, they offered, they did a great job, and…”
“And?” I’m almost laughing now.
“And they’re also going to help install some of the appliances and maybe help with the furniture.” From her reflection in the rearview mirror, I can see Sophie’s cheeks turn a soft shade of pink.
“Uh-huh,” I say joshingly.
“Whatever.” Sophie waves her hands about. “They were nice. I left the place to them to do it—he’s an artist and knows what he’s doing with that kind of stuff anyway—so…whatever. I’ll take the help. God knows I need it.”
“And the painting?” Robin says. She looks in her side mirror and makes a lane change.
“He offered,” Sophie says in a factual tone. “But it’ll be so much more fun to have a paint party with you girls, don’t you think?”
“Absolutely,” I say, very excited to pick up the colorful paint we’ve just chosen. It’s going to be so cheerful. Some bright pink accents with equally bright teal accents, and neutral cream and yellow. It’ll look beautiful. Trust me, I can already see it!
“And,” I say, deciding to drop the razzing, “I love the spontaneity of it. Some yoga…now some painting….Oh!” I just about shriek. “This is so much fun.”
“You don’t have some wedding thing you need to be doing?” Robin asks. She looks at me in the mirror. “No projects that you need to get done? Wild wedding work to do? You sure it’s okay we just randomly go and decide to paint like this?”
I heave a sigh and am about to respond when Sophie says, “Nope.” She pops around the corner of her seat. “Because you’re de-stressing and calming down today, right, Claire?”
“Exactly,” I say. “Hanging out with you girls and actually not doing wedding-related things is a relief. Exactly what I need.”
I sink further into my seat and watch the clusters of sidewalk-lining trees pass by through the window. Spring is definitely around the corner—the cherry blossoms are beginning to sprout up into tightly closed buds and choruses of birds can be heard round every corner.
God, I love Seattle in the spring. There’s nothing like coming out of a cold, dreary, and cloudy autumn and winter to see the promise of hope and newness of spring—the flowers about to bloom, the grass and shrubs about to become vibrantly green, and of course the emerging sun that reminds you that flip-flop season and the chance to wear torn, cut-off jeans almost all the time has arrived.
***
You know, for one amateur painter, one DIY painter, and one brilliant artist, the walls of The Cup and the Cake are beginning to look like a professionally done job. It’s brilliant. Really brilliant. The entire place has its first coat of cream paint done. The blinding white of drywall is gone, and the place instantly feels warm and inviting.
Robin and I are halfway through with the second coat in the front room, while Sophie’s finishing up work in the back kitchen. The spontaneity of the painting and yoga, of which I can really start to feel the effects (yeah, my body is sore), are turning out to be a great distraction f
rom all things wedding.
Getting to hang out with Robin and Sophie is a lot of fun, too. It’s so nice to have your best friends all in the same city. All of us were worried that someone would get a job that would take one of us out of Seattle after college. Of course, we all figured Emily would take up and leave. She’s originally from Boston and wanted to go to a university clear on another coast, hence UDub. Add that fact to the various study abroad trips during school and her penchant for traveling whenever, wherever and however she can, and it wasn’t exactly a shock that she wouldn’t necessarily stick around Seattle in a permanent way. She’s the girl who left…but only in spurts. At least she always finds her way back here somehow.
But the rest of us girls all live so close by, and I love it. I really can’t fathom how tough it would be to pick up and move to another city, far away from them. Girls’ nights or spontaneous painting parties can be taken for granted sometimes. I have to remind myself now and then that I’m a really fortunate girl. I’m so lucky that I can do that—swing by one of the girls’ places and go shopping or start a massive paint project just like that, no real planning needed.
There are plenty of friendships post-college that find physical distance wedging its way between. That would be so hard for me. It really is so simple to pick up the phone and make a coffee date; or buzz on down the road and in ten or fifteen minutes’ time be on your BFF’s living room floor watching a re-run of Will and Grace or Friends; or be there lickety-split to help a friend in need, who’s in tears over a jackass man or because of a really crappy day at work…or because she’s just PMSing badly.
Living far away from my friends would mean kissing all of that goodbye. Sure, I eventually would make new friends, or, rather, more friends. It wouldn’t be the same, though. You know what I’m talking about? That connection that you’ve made with a girl or a group of girls, like, years ago? You met under similar circumstances or were just at the right place at the right time, in need of a friend, and BAM! There’s Sophie, your new best friend for life.
You know the friend. That girl you met while standing in line for tickets to the next installment of the Twilight series (and only far after the fact do you wonder why in the hell you froze your ass off to see such a flop of a film). You two started chatting about the super long line, how cold it was, about the film you were dealing with the aforementioned troubles over, and, before you knew it, you become Facebook friends and plan a coffee date.
Those two girls you met in the most boring and mind-draining political science class your first semester in college. A few exchanged jokes, giggles, and then cell phone numbers, and next thing you’re lying out on the campus green trying to get your suntan on, chatting, joking, laughing…best of friends.
I met all of my girlfriends in college. We were all in the same boat, so to speak—all of us stepping foot in the big bad world of almost-adulthood, and some of us already having been there for a year or two, ready to help the newbies out. All that really troubled any of us at that time was making good grades, trying to get ourselves into established relationships with a guy that might lead to something more permanent down the road (or at least give us a good time for a short while), and, of course, finding ways to explain to our parents that we just had to go on that spring break trip with our friends rather than come back home for Aunt Jillian’s birthday party. College is one of those special times when you make some of the most endearing friendships a woman will ever have. Granted, I’m only twenty-seven, but that’s what I think, anyhow.
Just one big happy family—six girls in college trying to take the next big steps in their lives. There for each other during highs and lows. And now, nine years later, I simply could not fathom being farther than a neighborhood away from any one of them. Standing here in what will very soon be Sophie’s own café, slapping up the paint and helping make something so big together, I realize the weight of these friendships.
When I landed my job up on Pill Hill, I was relieved that Seattle would still remain home. When Conner found a sweet deal with his accounting firm downtown, I was relieved we wouldn’t be the ones throwing a wrench in my friendship with the girls. Slowly, each one of us found our way home, here in Seattle, with Emily returning “back to base” after whatever extended vaca or volunteer mission she had going on.
It was last year, before Conner and I became engaged, when the tables were about to turn. That’s right. Moving away from Seattle—and my friends!
Conner suggested that we move back to his hometown, LA. We argued terribly over it. Conner’s a pretty affable guy, and we go really well together. Like any couple, though, we have our moments, and when he proposed a move to LA, I freaked. I was one unhappy (and still unengaged) girl at the time. Eventually we agreed that I wouldn’t bring up marriage so long as he didn’t bring up Los Angeles. Things went along that way for a while. And now, as is obvious, we’re engaged…
I’ll let you in on a little secret. Now that marriage is not too far off, I’m kind of scared of the LA topic rearing its buggy little head again. I hope not. I mean, I’d move anywhere for Conner. Anywhere to be together with him…make each other happy… But this is home. Seattle is where we belong. We have a great home in Madison Park, nice jobs, and both of us have our friends here.
As I was saying a minute ago, the friends you make in college… They’re unlike any friendships you’ve ever made. Unlike any I’ve ever made, for sure. You’re all going through so many similar things in life, the strings that sort of bring you together, and the experiences you start to have and share are eventually the things that bind you together. I know I could always meet new people in the event Conner and I move, and meeting new people is nice and all, but it’s not the same. Know what I mean? It’s just not the same.
As I roll layer after layer of paint onto this wall that is honestly seeming to grow a foot taller by the hour (maybe the paint fumes are getting to me), I continue to reflect on the past and how great it is to have my good friends so close. As Robin teases me by putting a dollop of paint on my cheek, and as Sophie calls out from the back that we better not be messing up her place too much (and as Robin and I giggle about her being her bossy and controlling self), I really know that this is where I belong. I belong here, at home, with my girls. And with Conner, of course. He just has to stay here; he can’t bring up LA.
Robin breaks my train of thought by putting another dollop of paint on me, this time on my forearm. She asks what’s on my mind, because she, like all close girlfriends, can usually read my thoughts, or at least my body language.
“Just hoping Conner doesn’t mention moving to LA again,” I say solemnly. “Not that I think he really will, since things at home are great.” I crinkle up my face and look at her. “Why would things change, right? But it’s worth a thought… Conner’s brought it up before.”
“Don’t borrow trouble,” Robin tells me. “If he brings it up, then you can talk about it.” She rolls her brush into the paint tray. “Don’t give another thought to it, okay?” She looks at me critically. “Got it?”
“Yeah, I was only thinking about ‘what if.’ You know, since it was a big deal a while ago?”
“A while ago,” Robin states perfunctorily. “Now you two are going to get married, you have a home together here…your jobs, your lives, your friends… Everything’s here and there’s no point in dredging up past conversations or issues that mean nothing anymore.”
I nod and slowly roll my brush in the paint an unnecessary amount of times.
“I know it bothered you a lot last year…when Conner brought it up,” Robin presses on.
I continue to soggy my brush.
“But he hasn’t brought it up again, and I don’t think you need extra worries on your list, Claire.”
I nod again.
“You think you’ve got enough paint on there, babe?”
I look up to meet Robin’s smiling face and wag my head at my hazy behavior. “Just a lot on my mind,” I say with a sigh.
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“I know.” Robin takes my brush from me and does a few quick and hard-pressed rolls in the dry paint pan off to the side. “Here.” She returns my brush, perfectly ready to be rolled onto the wall. “You don’t have to tell me how tough it can be to keep from worrying or borrowing trouble. Having Rose and dealing with the paternity issues was not a walk in the park, girl.”
“True,” I say. I watch as Robin expertly rolls her paint along the wall. I mimic her smooth movements and say, “How do you deal with that, even now? I mean, it’s not like the paternity issue is really at rest.” I pause. “Right?”
“Exactly! At any moment Brandon,” I see her flinch ever so slightly at the mention of Rose’s dad’s name, “could waltz back into our lives and stir up trouble. I’m doing the best I can to move past it and ignore it…trying to do what’s best for Rose and for me. And for Bobby, for that matter.”
Robin heaves a sigh and continues with a fresh roll of paint. “But, as I said, Claire, don’t borrow trouble that’s not there. Brandon’s not knocking on our door right now, and I’m not biting my nails wondering when or if he will. You can’t live like that. Just can’t.”
“I guess if you can do it with something so big as…” I hesitate for a second with the name, “…Brandon, then I can get over delusions of Conner moving us to LA.”
“That’s right.” Robin gives me a warm smile and motions towards my brush, which I’ve left to sop up excess amounts of paint, yet again. “Now come on. Get to work or Sophie will have our heads.”
I chuckle and squeeze out the excess paint in the other pan. “God forbid we take a break…during a paint…party,” I kid.
“We better not mess up, or Sophie’ll hire someone to come in and do over our work,” Robin says in a teasing tone.
When Girlfriends Chase Dreams Page 13
