Angela and Alice

Angela stood on the stoop, shifting her weight from left to right. Her new blue leather sandals dug into the big toe on the right, making the stoop standing even more… uncomfortable. 

“C’mon Alice, I know you’re in there. Can you please just answer the door?” Angela yelled at the front door, choosing to ignore the looks from the neighbors entirely. Shuffling in the thickening humid heat, Angela’s feet couldn’t bear the swelling and the digging ultimately prompting Angela to admit defeat and place the checkered black tin on the cement.

“There’s chocolate in there. Try to get it before the ants do!!” She hollered at the stubbornly sealed navy blue door. Glancing to her right, she spotted the Cheryl, the nosy neighbor who Alice and Angela spent hours gabbing about over wine and a long day. Angela felt a sort of kinship to Cheryl, even though she swears they never met. 

“Cheryl!! Can you make sure she gets these? Thanks!” The two waved at one another through a window and the humid haze slowly claiming every molecule of air. Relief hugged Angela as she was confident that the “please forgive me” treats wouldn’t go to waste, at least. Crossing under the 100 year old oak tree that Alice talked about almost everyday, guilt leadened Angela’s feet making the walk to the car seem so much longer than usual. 

Once Angela got the car started, freon infused cold air tickled her skin. She fished around her purse for her phone and aux cable so she could jam out on her drive. She would never admit it to Alice, but even though she’d been to that house every week for three years, she still needed her GPS to make it out of the neighborhood. What deranged narcissistic developer has every street in his development be plants that start with C? Calamint Drive? Cabbage Path? Calathea Way?

Absorbed by the hunt, Angela completely missed Alice opening the door to collect the tin and quietly tip toe back into the house. Safe inside, Alice popped open the tin hoping that Angela was feeling guilty enough to spring for the high end brownie mix. Moving aside the wax paper, Alice couldn’t help but hold her mouth open to the abundance of treats inside. 

“Oh she must be very sorry.” Alice seemed to say to no one in particular, except for maybe George the Pothos vine who aggressively colonized almost every shelf in the kitchen. Deep navy fingertips moved the gold glitter cookies away from the chocolate ganached cherries to reveal a dulce de leche brownie filling the bottom of the tin as a foundation for everything above it.

A heavy sigh helped her bring the lid back to its place as she inched over to the living room window to check in on Angela. She was usually so quick to forgive, but this time Angela had gone too far. To Alice, Angela was her most trusted friend, her confidante of fifteen years. When Alice finally kicked her cheating husband out of the house six months ago and discovered that her sexuality may be more nuanced than she first thought, Angela had been the supportive best friend who helped her figure it out. In fact, Angela took the initiative to Google how-to-come-out-later-in-life, discovered that there were bars for LGBTQIA people all over their region, and found one that might work for Alice. She planned a whole Saturday for them with getting ready with manicures and blowouts to finally go out and check the scene. 

Thinking back, Alice remembered that she had been a terrified ball of nerves the first time they drove up to what looked like a biker a bar on the edge of the city limits subtly announcing their name in neon pink - Secrets. Once parked in the gravel lot, Angela literally had to pull her out of the silver 2005 Honda Civic named Fred, the noble stead for all of their adventures. The less than ladylike brawl had Alice howling, “I don’t want to know the secrets, please just let’s go home! I regret I said anything!!” Slightly bruised, scratched, and blow outs ruined, the pair eventually entered the darkened foyer to pay their cover. It was almost like trying to get into an exclusive concert, surly gatekeeper, stamps on hands, and everything. Holding hands, the two took a deep breath and pulled aside the heavy chain link curtain to the main bar floor. 

Had Alice known that going to Secrets would be the first time in her life when she would feel at home in a bar, she probably wouldn’t have fought so hard to stay in the car. People of all shapes, sizes, and expression milled about the red hued room while the most resplendent drag queen worked a stage the size of a kitchen counter top. Shoulders slackened, Alice and Angela went on to have one of their best nights out in a long time. Alice even walked away with a phone number or two.

Alice could almost feel the confetti from the last number of that night. Watching Angela pull away, Alice sadly smiled at the memory and the slow tightening around her heart. 

…

Angela sat on Fred’s hood while she stared out at the lake thinking through the thousand ways she could make it up to Alice. 

Flowers? Nah, too macabre. 

Balloons? Too extra. 

And then the memory came at her with the intensity of rogue wave threatening to carry her out with the tide. She could see it all right there - Alice’s face, completely frozen into a smile as their co-workers impaled Alice with jokes and insensitive comments about what it must be like to be a lesbian. While trying to be polite and nice to the unending surge of questions, Alice progressively got quieter and quieter until she stopped answering altogether and froze to her wooden bar chair. Angela somehow missed all of this happening and instead of jumping in to save Alice, joined into the fun. 

Does she have to wear flannel now?

So does that mean that the women now have to worry about

harassment from Alice AND the boys?

She’ll still wear a bra, right?

Can we still tell her the office gossip or is she not into that now?

Wait, does that mean she’s one of the dudes?

Angela could feel the shame washing through as she remembered how that all had started in the first place. Twirling the ring around her middle finger, Angela remembered standing by the coffee maker with Eric, whom she thought was a trusted co-worker friend, as they chatted about what they did over the weekend. Eric had done a hike with his fiance that had been on Angela’s bucket list for years. In an attempt to hide her jealousy, she shared the only story she knew would top Eric’s - their trip to Secrets. After going through every detail, all Eric could say after was, “Wait, Alice is gay?” 

In that moment, Angela knew she had made an irreparable mistake - outing her best friend to co-workers. Before she could even give Alice a heads up, the whole open floor plan knew and started walking by Alice’s cubicle looking for “signs” that could confirm the unthinkable - a lipstick lesbian.

Shaking her head in an attempt to erase the memories, Angela shuddered despite the easing heat.The evening winds were picking up and nipped at Angela’s fingertips as she crafted an email to her coworkers.

…

It was a grey and muggy Monday as Alice slowly made her way to the office. Once parked, she took a deep breath and tried to call forth her inner warrior. Drying the silent tears, Alice looked in the rearview mirror and touched up her lipstick and flounced her maple strands - a move she used in college before every exam. Staring at her reflection, she put her earbuds in, donned her darkest sunglasses, and exited her car. Her red patent leather heels clicked across the pavement to the glass doors. Today, she was going to be fierce, her only armor. Blaring Betty Who’s Rocket Girl, Alice could feel her blood rushing like it did when she threw the last of her ex-husband’s boxes out the front door. No one would mess with her today.

PING and the metal elevator doors pulled apart as she channeled her inner model and worked the aisle of cubicles like it was Paris Fashion Week. Setting her purse on her desk, she could almost hear Betty Who saying, “Now that will give them something to talk about.” Lost in the powerful reverie, Alice jumped out of her skin when she felt Angela’s delicate fingers tap her on the shoulder.

“What?! I mean, how can I help you?” Alice sweetly said as she removed her sunglasses with the grace and intensity of a pissed off Michelle Obama. 

Stunned by Alice’s composure, Angela finally managed, “Hey, I’m not sure if you saw on your calendar but there is a last minute staff meeting. Wanna go to the conference room?”

Alice leveled her gaze at Angela to make sure she got the hint that there were no longer friendly feelings, just a dangerously burning anger.

“Thank you for letting me know, I will meet you there shortly,” Alice said with her most professional tone as she watched Angela turn away and head to the conference room.

Grabbing her laptop, she waited for Angela to be a couple cubicles away before making her walk to the conference room. Phone in hand she flipped through her Instagram so she could hide in her feelings and avoid conversations. After hate liking the fourth picture of a dog, she finally looked into the conference room. Stunned she slowly stepped into the room with every coworker who was there that night at the bar. Each held an envelope with “I’m Sorry” scrawled on the front and surrounded the table laden with flowers, donuts, and coffee. 

She couldn’t hold back the tears as each one gave her their envelope and apologized with a handshake or hug before finding a spot at the table. The silence slowly gave way to familiar conversations of Fantasy Football and the Bachelorette, bringing Alice and the group back into a sense of normalcy and belonging, something Alice realized what had been destroyed that night at the bar. When she could, she’d quickly skim the notes inside each envelope and slowly regained some faith in her friends.

As each one slowly walked back to their desks, Alice decided to help Angela clean up the forgotten plates and cups. Once the table was cleared, Angela turned to Alice and tried to find her words.

“Alice, I am truly sorry for sharing something so personal that wasn’t mine to share. I totally get it if you don’t feel like you can trust me, but I hope we can move past this.” Angela waited for Alice to respond and couldn’t read her friend at all. 

Alice considered everything Angela had done for her, even the ganache covered cherries, and stood there for a bit contemplating what to do next.

“We’ll have to work on establishing some boundaries, but you are forgiven. Friendships like ours are not worth losing.” Alice swiped at her cheeks, grateful she wore waterproof that day.

Angela rushed to Alice and gave her a long hug and whispered, “Thank you so much for being my friend.”