Foreign Familiarity

Foreign Familiarity

    “Thank-you,” Margot timidly said to the florist as she was handed her receipt for the sizable order of dahlias and peonies she had just placed for her wedding next year, now regretting turning down her fiancé’s offer to accompany her. She had insisted it would not be anything she could not handle, but after seeing Celeste’s beaming face turn into one of bafflement and disdain as soon as she walked in, all the memories of the bittersweet moments came flooding back to her, still fresh and unprocessed.

    What she regretted even more was not doing enough research on the floral shop where she would have found out that Celeste was the owner, along with two other locations in different parts of town. Of course Margot remembered how Celeste would often talk about owning her own business one day, but also how she had no idea what kind of profession it would be; and now she had her answer. 

    When Margot experienced her first heartbreak at the ripe old age of seventeen, Celeste took her to the corner store where they bought their selection of Ben & Jerry’s and stayed up until two o’clock in the morning watching cliche rom coms, during which they did some serious Googling on how to make voodoo dolls in hopes that Margot’s ex-boyfriend would receive a very gruesome and well-deserved penetration through a certain body part.

    When Celeste accidentally consumed one too many Sex on the Beach slushies at a graduation party they had crashed on the night of receiving their high school diplomas, Margot sat on the edge of the tub holding back her knotted hair as Celeste managed to get most of her vomit into the toilet for the next forty-five minutes. The following morning Celeste felt as if she was going to die all over again, so logically the first idea that came to mind was to call Margot and ask (beg) her to pick up some of the greasiest and calorically dense fried food in town so they could have a low-grade brunch in Celeste’s room which reeked of weed and an excessive amount of her Bombshell Beach perfume. They ate in relative silence for the better part of the day before Celeste announced that she fully intended on passing out again, which was Margot’s cue to leave.

    When Margot tried and failed holding back her tears as she and Celeste said their goodbyes for the next four months, Celeste promised she would bring her back a keychain and an embroidered pillow that would match the aesthetic of her bedroom when she returned from her study abroad program in Portugal. Margot half-jokingly told her that she had better not come back as an altered and self-righteous individual from spending so much time with a cultured society. Celeste only laughed and said she would attempt to give Margot amateur lessons in Portuguese when she came back.

 After Celeste had returned at the end of the fall semester, her hair had been lightened several shades and her nails were freshly manicured. When Margot complimented her on her new appearance, Celeste faciley pushed back her shoulders and stuck her chin out while she suavely yet placidly gave Margot a brief discourse on the many benefits of getting a European manicure as opposed to the ones they give in America. Margot pretended not to notice the particular tone that Celeste had recently adopted.

    When they both started working more hours and had less free time to spend with each other, texting and facetiming became a recurring routine in an attempt to keep each other up to date on any insignificant event that occurred in their lives. Margot had landed an internship at a nonprofit environmental law firm while she was working on her Associate’s in Paralegal Studies, and Celeste had taken up an interest in graphic design and was able to work mostly from home for an advertising company specializing in publishing children’s and adolescent books. Classes were scheduled to start in less than two weeks, so Celeste had asked Margot to please come out with her one more time before the semester started since they would soon be too occupied with midterms for any form of fun or relaxation. 

Browsing the freezer section at the gas station they had stopped at before heading out for that evening, Margot asked her what courses she was taking, to which Celeste averted her eyes and mumbled something about being in between majors at the time. As Margot leaned against Celeste’s car while she pumped gas, she brought up the fact that she was only six credits away from graduating, but she wasn’t sure if she should apply for law school or take a gap year. Celeste simply nodded and uttered appropriate words of encouragement before slamming the fuel tank shut.

    When Margot got accepted into grad school, Celeste had gotten her an aromatherapy diffuser with five different kinds of essential oils, each with their own components that were reputed to help minimize levels of stress and anxiety, which only reminded Margot once again what the next two years would consist of. Between her job and her studies and with Celeste working two jobs, it had been nearly six months since they last saw each other. Texts and calls were still fairly consistent, but each of their added responsibilities strained their once normal routine. Research paper after research paper had turned Margot’s once organized workspace into a chaotic and deranged one; the essential oil bottles sat next to her desk lamp, full.

    The night before Margot’s graduation, she got a text from Celeste saying she was so sorry she could not make it tomorrow, they were really short staffed at work and this was a big project they were working on that needed to be finished before the weekend. No big deal. She let Celeste know it was fine, and wished her luck on her latest project at work. The following morning Margot crossed the stage and beamed at her professors as she was handed her master’s degree, trying to ignore the empty seat she spotted earlier next to her family that was saved for Celeste. Smiling for the camera that was set up off stage, she made her way back to her seat and watched as the rest of the graduates were called on. 

    And now she was presented with the lovely opportunity of informing the person who was once her confidant, her twin flame, with the news of her latest milestone; one that was destined to be commemorated and bring jubilation to everyone around, with endless congratulatory remarks and individualized gifts for the newlyweds. Except now that episode was playing out with an evident sour impression lingering in the atmosphere. There really was nothing like breaking the news of your wedding to someone who you thought would be your Maid of Honor.