Friends, revisited

“How long has it been since you’ve seen Chloe?” Irene’s mother asked as she bent over to smell her newly cooked eggs. 

Irene jumped, startled. She’d never been very good at preparing anything, so she’d walked into the kitchen planning on hauling the cereal and milk out of the cupboard and calling it a day. But her mother had gotten there first. Her mother, a natural early bird for most of her life until… Well, until they lost dad.

Irene smiled, this might be a sign that her mother’s depression was finally clearing. At the very least, it might turn out to be a good day for her. 

“Five years,” Irene said. 

She vividly remembered the last time she’d seen her best friend at the end of the summer after their high school graduation. Chloe would soon be leaving their small town in New Jersey for New York City to follow her dream of starring in musicals and Irene was headed to Italy a few weeks later to study graphic design. They met at a coffee shop, the very same coffee shop they were due to meet this afternoon, five years later.

“It is so great that you two have stayed in touch all these years. Tere says she doesn’t talk to any of her old friends anymore. Too bad, such nice girls.” 

Irene frowned. She wouldn’t call her older sister’s previous friends nice, exactly. Smarmy up front and bitchy behind your back, yes. Nice? Definitely not. In fact, Irene knew Tere wouldn’t call them friends either. They were just a group of girls she’d hung out with in school because no one else would take her. Actually, it was high time her shy and introverted sister left them all behind her. Most had married or gotten engaged in the ten years since they’d graduated high school, and were on a fast-track to becoming their equally bitchy mothers.

But what Irene and Chloe had was real. Irene knew that. Somehow, in the endless turmoil of teenagerhood, she’d been lucky to find someone she genuinely liked and who genuinely liked her back. They’d met as shy, quirky first graders who got grounded for colouring outside the lines and had since shared more than a decade’s worth of companionship.

Irene’s phone buzzed.

looking forward to this afternoon!!!! :) Chloe texted.

Four exclamation points? Irene thought, amused. Oh dear. 

Her phone turned itself off and she found herself immediately turning it back on. The clock read 8:30 am. Five hours to go still. Me too, she wrote, we haven’t talked in so long, you have to tell me everything.

They’d texted each other incessantly during the first few months of college, Chloe had suggested they Skype, but their respective busy lives kept getting in the way. Irene was in Florence visiting distant relatives who were dead set on showing her every inch of the city, Chloe had an audition for a short film, Irene had work, Chloe had pilates class. Eventually, what had been a tumultuous river of texts and gifs became the odd “How are you doing?” and an annual birthday call.

Chloe and Irene had promised to visit each other the following summer, but this plan didn’t pan out either. Chloe was always saying she was too busy and Irene soon gave up asking. And then there was the fact that Europe beckoned, so she spent her summer backpacking with some new friends.

Time passed. Irene graduated and got a job at a magazine. What exactly was going on in Chloe’s life was a total mystery to her, as she eventually stopped posting about life as a newbie actress on her Facebook and her transfer to Instagram was cut short after a single post. 

Then Irene’s dad died and her mother froze inside her grief. By then, Tere was married with two kids and living in Los Angeles, so caring for their mother fell to Irene.

Coming home wasn’t the plan for Irene. It was the furthest from the plan Irene had ever been. And she didn’t know what to do next. 

It had been her and Chloe’s dream to leave their small, boring New Jersey town for bigger things. Irene found that despite the situation she now found herself in, she had had the many adventures she’d so longed for. It had been cut short, but she’d found success in freelancing and planned on moving elsewhere once her mother’s condition improved. Question was, what had life dealt Chloe?

***

Life had clearly not dealt Chloe punctuality. It was 2:30 pm. She was already an hour late.

“Would you like to order something else while you wait? A coffee?” a waiter inquired of Irene.

Irene pushed her plate (which had previously held a panini), casually leafed through the menu and didn’t see much that appealed to her. Espressos put her on edge, she remembered this particular place’s americanos as too watery, and several years in Italy had ingrained in her that cappuccinos are more of a morning drink and never consumed after a meal.

“I’ll have a latte,” she told the waiter.

“Irene!” someone yelled, and Irene turned to see Chloe ram through the door in plaid pants and a stylish adobe blazer worn over a white button down shirt. Her curly blonde hair was tied up into a hurried ponytail. It appeared that her bright, bold colours and vintage-only phase was over, and she looked tired.

“Sorry I’m late, dad had a meeting with a client that went longer than expected and he needed my help taking notes,” she whispered in Irene’s ear, breathless, as she hugged her.

“Wait, you work at the law firm now?” Irene asked, shocked. She couldn’t for the life of her, imagine her lively friend in such a dull profession, yet here she was.

“I do this and that. Mostly just secretary work,” Chloe shrugged as she sat down, “Surprising, isn’t it?”

No shit. Irene sat back in astonishment as the waiter took Chloe’s order. Acting had always been Chloe’s dream and five years ago, she’d announced to Irene that she’d gladly waitress while her career panned out if that’s what it took. She swore that she would rather die than work at her father’s lame office.

“Even more surprising is that I’m actually enjoying it. Maybe more than acting,” Chloe continued, “Anyways, what about you? What have you been up to?”

“Graphic design, freelance mostly. I moved back two years ago.”

“That sounds fun. You were always a creative sort of person. And it’s going well?”

“Yeah. I mean, it’s not the best-paying or stablest job but I love doing it. Was your acting not working out?”

The waiter brought Chloe’s order and she shoveled some salad into her mouth. Gulping it down, she shook her head. “It was, actually. Finally.”

Irene took a sip from her latte, and instantly regretted it. The coffee was much sweeter than she remembered. 

“Everything I’d ever dreamt about until then was coming true,” Chloe said, “But then I realized I didn’t like it very much at all. The toxicity of the industry, the staring, the way my success seemed inevitably tied to my looks. And New York City’s kind of awful. I needed to get out.”

“So you came back here?”

“Home’s home.”

“But you hated it here,” Irene blurted out, dismayed. She couldn’t believe Chloe had come back willingly to the town that was tied to so many terrible memories, to so much bullying she’d experienced for her large bug eyes and tall, muscular frame before they found each other.

Chloe’s eyes narrowed, “More like strongly disliked. I just needed to see the world beyond, you know? I don’t regret New York City, but I’m simply not a big city person. Besides, Harry wants us to settle down here after the wedding. He never knew his grandparents and when we have kids we want them to have a supportive network, so- ”

Irene stopped listening. Her head hurt, and she felt her friend slipping farther and farther with every sentence that passed between them. Chloe was not only planning on living the same life as her parents, but she was also marrying a local? And not just any local, if Irene’s instincts were correct.

“Harry. The Harry Dodie?” That filthy rich manchild who smoked pot and was an asshole to every girl in their class, yet always managed to have some busty blonde head over heels in love with him? Irene had to admit that he was conventionally good-looking, but come on!

Chloe sighed, “I know right? But yet, that Harry Dodie grew up. We all did. ” After a thoughtful pause, she continued, “Anyways, enough about me. Anyone special in your life?”

Irene cleared her throat, “How would teen Chloe feel about grown-up Chloe now, do you think?”

“Mortified.”

They laughed. For the first time since she’d walked into the café, Irene thought she caught a momentary glimpse of the Chloe she knew, or thought she knew.

“I don’t believe it myself and I still ask myself if I’m not making a huge mistake, but I actually feel good about it. What about you? You were always the rebellious one, always plotting her next adventure , so how would teen Irene feel?”

“Mortified too. She’d tell me to pack up and leave. But I can’t. Not yet.”

“Your mother?”

Irene nodded.

Chloe’s phone chimed but she ignored it and planted her elbows on the table and looked straight at Irene, “Adulthood is strange, isn’t it?” she mused.

Irene sat back.

“When you’re a teen, you think you’ve got it all figured out. Or at least, the general direction of where you are headed.”

Chloe’s phone now rang, “It’s my dad. I’ve got to head back to the office.”

“Let’s meet some other time, okay?”

“Of course.”

Irene thought about what Chloe had said as she drank the remnants of her very cold latte. She’d always been the weird kid and had once regarded staying in her tiny town as a death sentence, the very worst fate that could befall her and her restless creativity. But she’d grown up, and for better and for worse, she’d changed. In their own way, neither of them had known for sure where their lives would take them. What was for sure, though, was that it had taken them somewhere. They’d changed. They weren’t teen Chloe and Irene anymore, best friends forever. They were strangers again in a sense. And that was okay. 

They were both home again for the foreseeable future, there would be plenty of time to get reacquainted.