Elaine and Betty

Elaine Jorgenson and Betty Hall lived across Oak Street from one another. They always had, at least as far as anyone could remember. They married and moved into the neighborhood at about the same time. They each had three children. One was the president of the band parents’ organization and the other chaired the school’s children’s theater group.

They watched their children graduate, move away, and marry. They each lost their husband – Elaine’s due to a heart attack and Betty’s due to a blond waitress named La Verne. They were in their late seventies and didn’t leave their houses much, other than to garden in the summer. Betty's hair was silver while Elaine's was a mix of blond and gray.

Elaine and Betty were best friends and also each other’s nemeses.

One year, just after Christmas, Betty received a very pretty card from Elaine. She opened it carefully, saving the stamp for her granddaughter's collection. Sitting in her leather chair she adjusted her glasses to read.

Dear Betty,

Thank you so much for the gift of the German Christmas Tree decoration. While I would not have thought to purchase a hand-blown, iridescent green pickle ornament, I must say that it adds a hint of whimsey to my otherwise tastefully decorated tree.

Thank you so much for thinking of me! I hope you enjoyed your visit with your children and grandchildren!

Your friend,

Elaine

A couple of days passed before Elaine received a card with a snowflake etched on the envelope’s flap. She felt the indentation with her index finger. Sitting at her kitchen table she opened the card.

My Dear Elaine,

I am so glad to hear that you appreciated the pickle ornament. The moment I saw it I thought of you. My thanks to you for the thoughtful gift card for Applebee’s. I haven’t been there since the week they opened, which I’m guessing was 1988. It will be a good reason to go back. Perhaps you’d care to join me?

My visit with the family was nice. Everybody misses Clarence, of course, but he never much liked Christmas. He did not like having company because he had to wear pants.

Did I see that your family visited on the 25^th?

Betty

Betty opened her mailbox two days later to find an oversized envelope.

Dearest Betty,

Thank you very much for your thank-you note about the gift card. Your notes always serve as a stimulant for my memory. I recalled the generous gift of lightbulbs you gave me back when our kids were selling them for a PTA fundraiser. I was so glad to add the dozen 100-watt bulbs to the two-dozen I ended up buying because I missed the deadline. Even though that was more than fifteen years ago I still have plenty.

Thanks for asking about our Christmas celebration. Jennifer threw up and Amanda is pregnant.

Regards,

Elaine

Later that afternoon a standard business envelope without postage was stuffed into Elaine’s mail slot.

Elaine,

Thank you for pointing out the light bulb incident. It is so good to be reminded of something that happened so long ago that any normal person would have forgotten by now. The nice thing about lightbulbs is that they can help shine a light on things, like how I bought those lightbulbs at an inflated price to support our school. Your gifts to me have always looked suspiciously like things you have received and re-gifted to me. The “Clapper” clearly was re-wrapped.

Betty

A half-hour later the envelope from a fundraising letter, with the name of the charity crossed out, found its way into Betty’s mailbox.

Betty, My Dear Friend,

Thank you for your latest missive. My gratitude for your candor knows no bounds. You are truly a gift as a friend. As Robert Louis Stevenson said, “A friend is a gift you give yourself.” You truly are the gift that keeps on giving. Year after year you entertain me with your various rants and fabricated stories.

I never gave you “The Clapper.” You may be confusing that with La Verne giving Sam “the clap.”

Elaine

PS: The pickle ornament you gave me reminded me of Sam’s “pickle” before the penicillin shots. At least how I imagined it.

An hour later, as Betty tried to sneak up to Elaine’s front door the door quickly opened and Elaine pulled Betty into her front room.

“I caught you!”

Betty stomped her foot, complete with rubber boot, causing snow to fly onto the floor. Not very tall, and a little portly, she kicked the overshoes off.

“Yes, you did. You caught me. Here I thought I was being so sneaky.”

“Well, Betty, it is still light out. You are not that hard to see in your magenta parka.”

“I guess that’s true.”

“Come on in. Take your coat off. I can’t wait to read your next thank-you. Will you read it to me?”

As they sat in the living room, each with a cup of Constant Comment tea, Betty opened her envelope and unfolded the letter.

“Dear Elaine.”

“That’s a good start.”

“Thank you."

"Dear Elaine, I can scarcely dredge up enough thanks from deep within the bowels of my soul to express my gratitude for reminding me of Sam getting the clap from La Verne. My gratitude comes in remembering that he didn’t give the disease to me, and that his suffering from the burning pain and itching was only the start of his penance for putting his pickle where it didn’t belong. Giving up half of everything made the pickle-pain seem unimportant to him by comparison.

Your Clarence never would have done such a thing. In fact, Clarence didn’t do much of anything. That must have been a comfort to you when he passed.

Your dearest friend,

Betty”

“Oh, Betty! You have outdone yourself. ‘Putting his pickle where it didn’t belong!’ That, my friend, is the best line ever.” Elaine's blue eyes sparkled along with her smile.

“I’m so glad you liked it!”

“I loved it. And of course you are right about Clarence. I loved him dearly, but there were times I wondered if he had turned into a statue.”

“Elaine, I don’t know when we started doing these thank-you letter battles, but it brings me such joy during these long winter days.”

“You know, since we’ve saved them all we could probably find a publisher who would make a book for us. We could call it, ‘If Thanks Could Kill.’ I would buy one. Wouldn’t you?”

Elaine pondered. “I don’t know. I mean, I love our thank you cards, but outside of you and me I don’t think people would really appreciate them. Plus, it is something you and I share as friends.”

They looked out the window as large snowflakes landed on the pine boughs on Elaine’s porch. Betty and Elaine always enjoyed their back-and-forth thank-you cards. It was their way of expressing a depth of gratitude for each other that could not be put into words. They had so much living behind them, and maybe not so much ahead. Who could know? They did know, however, that their friendship was much more than a gift.