Boardwalk, Baby

A day had passed since the spat with Naomi, and Deb was sitting on a bench in front of a store, slurping on a frozen drink. After she had sought refuge from the thundering sky, she was able to sit and enjoy the pungent smell of the storm's rain.

She absentmindedly watched as the drops of cool water splashed and sloshed against the pavement, pooling into the sunken spaces. Her mind was elsewhere, too involved with the inner workings of her own life.

Earlier that day, she had walked to work only to be sent home within the hour. Her boss, a man no older than she, had hastily told her to use or lose the accumulated vacation days that Deb had earned. So she had no choice but to take the day off, but she couldn't enjoy herself.

Now, while she sat shielded from the downpour, she thought about the possibility of visiting her mother, but was brought back to her own words. She couldn't visit her, especially now, after she had bought and mailed a card on which she had jotted down lame excuses about being too busy with her career and life. I'm a shit daughter, Deb had thought as she wrote the words that she would be dwelling on long after sending the card.

While engrossed in her thoughts, she barely noticed as the darkened sky lost its wetted clouds, and the only remembrance of the rainstorm became the humid, damp air that penetrated Deb's pores. Sweat beads slipped down her face, soaking her in a salty smell. Her dark hair clumped together in moist masses. She allowed a low curse to slip from her lips as she swiped the salty fluid from her face. She had to get out of this heat.

Of course, things hardly ever go according to plan. As Deb moved to flag down a taxi, she felt a hand placed on her shoulder. “Debby Moore, is that really you?”

Oh lord. Deb knew that voice fairly well. Well enough, in fact, that she thought not to turn around, but curiosity got the best of her and she turned to face the woman. Before Deb was a tall, hefty blonde.

“Don’t just stand there, silly.”

Deb smirked, “Hey, Holly. What’re you doing here?”

“Come on, Debby, love. You act like you ain’t missed me,” said Holly, Deb’s closest friend from high school.

“We haven’t spoke in over five months.” Deb was bitter.

“And whose fault is that?”

Deb looked away guiltily. She had avoided Holly’s calls and adopted excuses involving a busy work schedule. Mostly because of Holly’s incessant desire to exercise, exercise, exercise. This, of course, meant she wanted Deb to tag along and complete the same rigorous workouts.

Deb curled her lip under to form a loose, awkward smile and spoke, “What would you like me to say? I’ve been busy.”

Holly looked away, smirking. Deb wanted to strangle herself for being so hateful.Why can’t you just shut up? Shut up, shut up, shut up!Deb bitterly thought to herself. She wanted to be pleasant, but it was as if she was bent out on self-sabotage. She mused that maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t capable of human relation; that maybe she was far too spiteful and disassociated. Maybe she was just a selfish bitch and didn’t deserve anyone’s friendship.

“You know, we’ve been friends for years, Deb. I’d like to think that I know you better than to believe that bullshit you’re trying to shove down my throat. Come on now, Naomi and me are still friends. And I’ll bet that you’re still sitting home alone, avoiding phone calls and making excuses,” Holly paused and allowed a small, secretive smile before continuing, “Always the same, aren’t you?”

Deb was slightly taken aback, mistaking her expression for angry. Holly was a woman of forgiveness, and Deb had forgotten thus. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

Holly still smiled, but shook her head, appearing amused. “No bullshit, ‘kay? I missed my sista from anotha mista!”

Deb chuckled, and nodded her head in compliance before becoming swallowed in the arms of her busty best friend. Contact with Holly was not unnatural for Deb, like it was with other people. Holly and Deb were opposites made from the same mold. How had she forgotten?

As they broke away from one another, Deb looked her friend over, undoubtedly analyzing her. “What’re you doing here?”

Realizing the supposed heartwarming reunion had come to a close, Holly responded, “Well, I kind of need a place to crash.” The dead cold stare Deb shot her was enough of an answer, but Holly never knew when to stop and so continued, “It’s just for a little while. I’ll sleep on the couch and help keep the place and, look, I have some cash on me.”

“It figures I would run into you,” Deb murmured, “Fine. Let’s get your shit.”

A small pile of belongings—a duffle bag, a suitcase, and two plastic bags—made up everything Holly Nelson owned. It made for a rather sad and small existence, but when Deb looked to Holly, she noticed her blue eyes light with calmness. It was surreal, that someone with hardly anything could be so contented. Deb was blessed with a home, a job and a family, but she wasn’t certain she was happy.

“Did your parents finally boot you off their lawn?” Deb asked with a cocked brow.

“They’ve been more than generous, and they were kind enough to let me eat their food and bathe in their tub. I’m an adult, not their responsibility.”

“And the tree-hugging Italian?” Deb inquired, speaking of Holly’s previous romantic interest.

Holly gave her an exasperated look. “I thought we had gotten past the name calling?”

“Three weeks of stale tea and ‘love Mother Nature, caress the lovely bosoms of earth and its wonders’ and tell me that shit don’t get old quick.”

“Honey, I was with him for ages. It grows on you,” she responded with a sad smile.

Deb perched her hands upon her hips defensively. “And where might he be now?”

“He left. Some spiritual run to ‘find himself’. I guess I should be angry or maybe a bit spiteful but when you love someone like I loved him…I guess you learn to accept them and the things they need to do.”

“You’re crazy. Bat shit crazy and hung up on a man who done left.”

“And you’re complacent and jealous,” Holly replied, sticking her tongue out.

Deb discarded the retort with a flick of the finger directed at her friend and resumed folding clothes into neat squares and tucking the garments away into dresser draws. “Really though, you’d think you’d grow out of the whole teenage ‘true love’ bit.”

Holly waved the notion away, before hesitantly replying, “Love transcends, etches itself unto your being. It’s really something to be experienced, not understood.”

Deb scoffed, a bit of saliva slipping to the floor and finding Holly with a grimacing expression.

“Love is dumb. A chemical reaction prompting stupid interaction.”