Forever Friends for Now

“Are you breaking up with me?” I asked, my hand shaking as I held the phone and paced around the spare bedroom.

“Don’t be absurd,” Pepper said, her voice unconvincing.

How had we gotten here?

We met years ago when our kids were just starting school. We were moms looking for a friend and thought we found one in each other. 

I was looking for some yarn to make a baby blanket for a friend; she was selling yarn she decided didn’t work for a sweater. We met over craft supplies and stayed for coffee and friendship. We talked for hours about everything we had in common, our families, our likes and dislikes. Then we arranged dinner for our families to get together. Grilled hamburgers and homemade margaritas poolside at her house were the perfect ends to a perfect day.

Soon, we were texting several times a day.

Pepper:  Did you read the new Twilight book?

Me: Yes! I heard it’s going to be a movie. We should definitely go.

Pepper: Absolutely! By the way, it’s your turn on Scrabble with

Friends.

Me:  I know. But my letters suck.

Pepper:  Hahaha! So do you concede?

Me:  NO! But I’ll probably lose. :(

Pepper:  Well, you beat me horribly last time, so it’s only fair.

We signed our kids up to be in soccer together, and she had some pull with the Parks Department, so we ended up on the same team (thankfully). Soon every Tuesday and Thursday, we were out on the soccer fields chatting and watching our kids practice. Then on Saturdays at some unholy hour of the morning, we would cheer as two tiny squads of kids with soccer shorts that swallowed them whole kicked the ball the wrong way, examined errant dandelions on the field, and basically traveled around in a herd as they played a game that didn’t keep score.

We integrated into each others’ extended families with invitations to birthday parties, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. We shared recipes and dreams. Pepper was literally the sister I never had.

We made an interesting pair. She was tall, thin, and blonde. I was short, curvy, and brunette. Despite our physical appearances, we had more in common than anyone I knew.

However, we had differences, too. She loved a good fight and was unafraid of confrontation; she welcomed it. I was about keeping the peace at all costs. Fortunately, she set her sites on community concerns for change rather than me. She knew I would cave and turn into a blubbering mess at the first sign of conflict.

However, sometimes her crusades managed to drag me into the fray since people knew we were best friends. I would bemoan such interactions, and she would champion them on my behalf.

Me:  Some woman on Facebook just sent me a nastygram and said

that I was trying to start drama because I brought signs to

the last soccer game. I was only trying to help 

team spirit. What do I say?

Pepper:  Um, you let ME say it! Send me the link. I’m on it!

And she was. And she shut down the woman from the other team. Then, Pepper and I made more signs to hand out to the rest of our team for the next game.

One day I told her I wanted to return to school to become an accountant. We were so excited when I got my acceptance letters from several colleges offering distance learning. And she even got me a nameplate that I would someday use on my desk.

However, this was the beginning of the end. Long hours of studying took time away from our get-togethers and chats. She began hanging out with another mom from our soccer team.

Me:  I have some time on Saturday. I thought we could go to the

craft fair at the high school.

Pepper:  Oh, I would love to, but I have plans with Mandy. We’re

going to see the new Twilight movie.

Me:  You’re going without me?

Pepper:  I mean, you could come, too. It will be fun. You’ll love

Mandy.

Me:  I don’t want to intrude on your plans.

Pepper: Don’t be silly. You aren’t intruding. You’re my best friend.

But throughout the movie, I was on high alert. Whenever Pepper and Mandy would laugh about something privately, it made me boil with anger. Why did she even invite me if she was just going to talk to Mandy the whole time? 

Afterward, we went for coffee. Begrudgingly, I got to know Mandy. She was indeed pretty fantastic.

Later that day, Pepper and I planned a road trip together.

We went on a weekend trip to New Orleans. We bought beads and then laughed as we sent pictures of them draped over us to our husbands. We slept in, which we never got to do at home with our kids. And we ate rich food and drank ridiculously-named drinks like “hot momma sunset” and “purple voodoo chick.”

Unfortunately, I had two assignments for school I had to turn in by Sunday night.

Pepper:  Why didn’t you finish them before we left?

Me:  I couldn’t. They involved discussion posts, which I couldn’t

do until others wrote in the forum.

Pepper:  What am I supposed to do while you’re working?

Me:  Could you go to the little souvenir shop around the corner

and get something for the kids?

Pepper:  I thought we were going to do that together.

Me:  Well, this will take me thirty minutes at most. Could you just

hang out?

Pepper:  Sure. I’ll text Mandy and see what she’s up to.

I was irritated. She knew what she was doing, and I had no choice but to fail the two assignments or pretend I didn’t care that she was texting another friend.  After I hit the “send” button, Pepper and I got back into our groove and had a blast.

When we got home, I had a message from an old friend who worked as an accountant at a firm that was looking for an intern. Pepper and I were excited when I landed the job, and she helped me shop for work-appropriate outfits.

The internship was rigorous. I ended up working long hours on top of my school schedule and trying to keep our family household together. Pepper and I rarely texted each other, much less saw each other. I had to miss soccer games and family dinners. But my dear husband reminded me that it was only for a while, and so I hung on.

My friend who helped me get the internship, Lisa, was a ball of positivity. While she wasn’t my supervisor, she was quick to praise my efforts and pulled me into the lunchroom group. We became fast friends, and I loved having someone to text for homework advice or check on office politics questions. Our kids went to school together, and we traded off duties to be “power moms” who had it all.

Pepper was not happy. She was cool to me whenever we did text and talked about great plays the kids had made at soccer which I had missed. I would tell her about Lisa and mention that we should all get together. Pepper would say that she and Mandy had so much going on that she didn’t know when she would have time.

I couldn’t understand Pepper’s attitude. Hadn’t she brought other friends into our group? But I understood her frustration at not having more time together. I missed her dearly.

Then Pepper suggested another trip. It sounded amazing, but with school fees, kids, and household expenses, I told her I didn’t think we could pull it off. 

Later that week, Lisa invited our family to join them in Gatlinburg for free. They had a cabin and a bunch of meal coupons, which they would happily share with us. We excitedly packed up the family and went.

When I got home, Pepper called. She was angry. Why had I gone on vacation with Lisa and her family after telling her we couldn’t go with her? I reminded her that Gatlinburg was free, so it wasn’t that I chose Lisa over Pepper; I chose free over an expensive vacation we couldn’t afford. She dismissed my explanation but invited the family for dinner.

At dinner, the kids played, and the husbands laughed as they grilled, but Pepper barely spoke to me. We awkwardly began a game of Spades, and she delighted in beating me to the point it wasn’t even fun anymore. During the meal, Pepper sat with her husband at the other end of the table, keeping as much distance as possible and refusing to make eye contact. 

I entertained myself by scrolling through Facebook when the husbands began cleaning up the grill. Pepper feigned being completely taken by her daughter’s impromptu song and dance.

Then, I saw it: Lisa had posted about twenty pictures of our Gatlinburg vacation. Dread climbed up my throat. I knew Pepper would see it and be even angrier than she already was. I felt like I should say something but was frozen by fear. 

But I had done nothing wrong. Lisa was a friend just as Mandy was a friend. Pepper had been on many outings with Mandy without me. Lisa had offered me a free vacation and was my mentor and friend for my career. We had even talked about me joining the accounting firm full-time after I graduated. 

Still, I knew Pepper would not take this well. It was one thing to know about a vacation; it was another thing to see it publicly on social media.

I made the excuse of having a headache, and my family left early. On the way home, I discussed everything with my husband. 

Him:  Do you really think Pepper will be angry?

Me:  She already is.

Him:  I didn’t notice anything.

Me:  Well, she was shooting me daggers from her eyes all night.

Him:  (shrugs) Men are so different from women.

The next morning Pepper called. I wiped my sweaty palms down my jeans and tried to sound chipper when I answered the phone.

Me:  Hello! Thank you for last night. It was so much fun. You

really killed me in Spades.

Pepper:  I saw the Facebook post.

Me:  (silence)

Pepper:  You were at some pretty expensive restaurants for not

having any money.

Me:  Lisa had coupons; it was all free.

Pepper:  You mean to say you didn’t pay a dime the whole trip?

Me:  Well, of course, we had to pay some. I would guess we paid

$200 in total.

Pepper:  But you didn’t have any money to come on vacation with

us.

Me:  Pepper, I didn’t have $2000 to go on vacation with you,

which is how much the room and everything would have cost.

Pepper:  If you had said so, we could have gone somewhere else.

But instead, you went to Gatlinburg.

Me:  I did say so. And an alternate location never came up. You

already had reservations.

Pepper: (sigh) I just don’t think you’re really into this friendship

anymore.

Me: What? That’s not true.

Pepper: I feel like we’ve reached a point where we are better off

as individuals.

Me:  Seriously, Pepper? You have to be kidding.

Pepper: Not kidding at all.

Me: So, what? Are you breaking up with me? (small laugh)

Pepper: Don’t be absurd. I’m just saying maybe we need to find

other friends.

Me: (clearing throat from tears) But Pepper, you’re like the sister I

never had.

Pepper:  If that were true, you wouldn’t have chosen Lisa over

me.

Me: I didn’t choose Lisa over you. You are my very best friend.

Pepper:  I was your very best friend. Now, we are just

acquaintances. And, honestly, we’ve been that way for a while.

Anyway, I have to go. I just wanted to clear the air.

Then she hung up.

My heart felt like it had been crushed. Grief spiraled up and down my body. And the pain fought against the disbelief that Pepper was being so petty. I sat in the guest bedroom and cried, got angry, wiped my eyes, and decided I would call Pepper tomorrow.

The next day when I called, it went to voicemail, and Pepper texted me to let me know there was nothing to discuss.

I cried all over again.

A week later, I tried again. That time it went to voicemail, and I never heard from her.

Several months later, I sent her a picture of our families together and invited them over for a cookout. She never replied.

My graduation was bittersweet. Lisa and her family cheered me on, and I got a full-time job at the firm. We celebrated together, but I still missed Pepper.

When soccer season rolled around again, Pepper had signed up as a coach. She specifically wrote on her coaching questionnaire that she didn’t want my kids on her team. I felt betrayed all over again. It was one thing to hate me; it was another thing to take it out on the kids.

I decided to be the bigger person and text her good luck on the season. I never heard back from her.

Years later, I still miss the sister-like bond we shared. Graduations, weddings, and grandchildren that we could’ve shared together are now only seen through Facebook posts. However, I’ve also seen Pepper become very vocal in our political scene, which reminds me how uncomfortable I could be when she would assert vehemently under the supposition that she was right and that there was no alternative to her opinion. 

I wonder if she was right to be angry with me about Lisa. But I also know that anyone I want to call a friend should be able to understand my point of view, and we should be able to forgive each other if we hurt one another’s feelings. I have that with Lisa, who has been an intricate part of graduations and weddings.

I mistakenly imagined friendship getting easier when you got out of middle and high school. Instead, I have discovered that adult friendships can be susceptible to the same pressures and failures as teenage friendships. And I realize that even if Pepper and I had made it through that storm, our friendship wasn’t strong enough to withstand the more difficult trials of life. I still wish her the best. 

I know I wouldn’t make a different decision about Lisa if I had the chance to go back and do it again. In fact, she is one of my nearest and dearest friends. We allow each other the space to have multiple friends, and we understand the time constraints that we each have.

I will always be thankful for the lessons Pepper taught me, and I hope she has found fulfillment and friendship in all of her endeavors.