Vivien groaned. “Don’t call me that.”
“Youare, though. You’ve got options. Drama. Romance. I’m just waiting for someone to jump in the pool wearing a tux.”
Vivien laughed quietly. “Go to sleep.”
They both lay there in the dark, smiling, hearts a little fuller than before.
July 10, 1991
Today we went to the community pool, and it was a thousand degrees outside but also PERFECT. Like, the sun was just right, and the breeze made the umbrellas do that flappy thing, and everything felt summery and delicious.
Kate and Tessa and I all wore big, floppy hats and sat together by the deep end with our feet in the water to stay cool and drank something Aunt Jo Ellen called a “mocktail” which totally looked like a real drink.
I put lemon-scented Sun-In in my hair (shhhh don’t tell Mom) and Tessa braided a little section of hers like she always does when she’s bored. Kate was readingTo Kill a MockingbirdAGAIN because she’s an actual genius and said she forgot what happened to Boo Radley. Like… okay, nerd.
But what I really want to write about is our moms.
They were sitting off to the side of the pool at this little round table with their drinks (maybe not “mocktails”) wearing sunglasses that made them look like movie stars. Who knows what they were talking about, but, man, those two can yak.
But more than that, they were LAUGHING. Loud. The kind of guffawing where they had to take their sunglasses off to wipe their eyes and were leaning in so close I thought they were going to fall out of their chairs.
We were picking up bits and pieces that made no sense but were still hilarious.
Aunt Jo Ellen said something like, “Remember that time we snuck out of the Sigma Nu party with all that food stashed in our purses?” and my mom—Maggie Lawson, the queen of Southern perfection and “posture is character”—laughed so hard she SNORTED.
Repeating for those in the back:SHE SNORTED.
I didn’t even know she could snort.
And I swear she looked so HAPPY. Also she corrected Aunt JE—apparently it was SigmaChinot SigmaNu. And that brought on more unexplained gales of laughter about a guy they called Bruce the Moose. Not kidding.
I pointed it out to Kate and Tessa and we all watched them for a second. Just sitting there, best friends since college, looking like they were connected at the soul.
Kate reminded us that they’ve been best friends longer than we’ve been alive. Isn’t that wild! And Tessa kept pointing out how they didn’t even have to say anything, but just look at each other and start laughing.
We all decided we want that kind of friendship with each other for the rest of our lives. So, right then and there, under our floppy sunhats with our feet in the pool, we took each other’s hands and we made a pact.
We promised that no matter what happens, we’ll all stay best friends forever.
That even when we’re ancient (forty!!) and married or not or moms or not or whatever—we’ll stay close. No exceptions. We’ll drink (real) cocktails and wear big sunglasses and laugh without even saying words.
We pinky swore. That means it’s legally binding. And I really believe it. I do.
Because me and Tessa and Kate—we’re meant to be best friends. Just like Jo Ellen and Maggie.
Forever.
Love,
Viv
P.S. Crista was there too but she was in the baby pool with her Barbies and cried so Tessa had to braid her hair just to calm her down. So. Yeah.
Maggie was just starting to truly relax when she heard a knock on the Summer House front door. She and Jo had been outside for hours, talking and reminiscing like the two old ladies they were.
But with every shared memory or bawdy laugh—much louder than Maggie really liked to laugh, but when Jo said “it bears repeating” for the fifteenth time, she lost it—guilt pressed a little harder. Roger would be furious. And when the smile faded from Jo Ellen’s eyes, Maggie knew she was thinking the same thing about Artie.
“That’s Peter,” Vivien called, poking her head out to the deck. “He said he wanted to talk to you two, remember? Is this a good time?”
