“Two sangrias,” Bonnie ordered.
“Wait. What?”
“Please, Penny. It’ll be like that weekend all over again.”
“This is not a good idea.”
The waitress hovered while they stayed locked in silent debate, waiting for a decision. Her impatience, as well as obvious discomfort as she rocked back and forth from foot to foot, made Penny give in.
“All right,” she conceded, throwing her hands up in the air. “But just one.”
Here she was, falling back into old habits. Bonnie led, and she followed. That had always been the way. There had been a time when that relationship was good for her. It pushed her to come out of her shell, attend concerts and parties, and experience things she would never have otherwise. But Penny had also grown up over the years. She had a job, was responsible for educating young people, and had earned her master's degree. She had done these things on her own. She needed to remind herself that she was her own person. She was fully capable of making her own decisions.
“Sure. Then you can have one of your seltzers.”
“You’re killing me here.”
“That’s my job, Pen. You’re the best friend who takes care of me, has an amazing heart, and an incredible sense of loyalty. And I’m the best friend that forces you to push boundaries and have new experiences.”
“Really. I didn’t realize we were giving ourselves labels. Because I might call you the best friend that doesn’t listen to me and can be a major pain in the ass.” Even as she said it, Penny reached out to squeeze her friend’s hand, as if she might be foolish enough to take her words seriously.
“But you love me.” There was an uncharacteristic falter to Bonnie’s voice.
“Unequivocally.”
“Good.” Bonnie returned the squeeze as if something bigger had been settled. Then she nodded, pulling back to have a better look at the place with a scrutinizing eye. It boasted ten outdoor tables, each of which was fully packed. People around them were smiling and laughing in the warm afternoon sun. Some were eating tacos and other delicious looking items from the food truck parked nearby. Upbeat music played at a volume just loud enough to be enjoyable without drowning out the conversation. A warm, inviting feel surrounded them.
The drinks arrived with umbrellas and fruit. They did a little “cheers,” although Penny wasn’t really sure it was appropriate, before taking a sip from the thick paper environmentally-friendly straws.
“Are we talking about it now?” Penny asked lightly.
“Not yet. You tell me stuff. Let’s talk about you.”
“Not much to tell,” Penny sighed. Bonnie was very good at avoiding uncomfortable feelings, but she wasn’t usually this resistant about significant problems.
“Don’t be so modest, Ms. I have a master's. That’s amazing! I am so proud of you! I told you that you could do it.” Bonnie lifted her glass for another cheers, taking a longer sip.
“Thanks.” Penny followed suit as expected. This time, the alcohol hit. The drink felt cool going down, but Penny could feel her cheeks warming. She really should have grabbed some of the food her mom had out. How could she be such an idiot, making the same mistake two days in a row?
“Any big plans for the summer?”
“You know all of them. Hang out with you. Help with wed….” She stopped herself. Clearing her throat, she started again. “Have you help me look at apartments?” she asked hopefully.“I was planning to wait until July to start. I’m on a waiting list for the one I really want, but it doesn’t hurt to have some backups. As long as you’re here, maybe I could schedule some appointments. Do you have any idea how long you want to stay?” Penny chose not to mention the very large suitcase.
“Depends,” Bonnie said noncommittally. “And men?” she pressed on.
“Nada. Unless you count Teddy or my male co-workers, most of whom are at least a decade older than me and married.”
“No. I most definitely do not count them or your dad.”
Penny took another slug of her drink, forgetting she was trying to pace herself. “I just haven’t had much luck there. I feel like I already know about ninety percent of the people my age in this town, having grown up with them. I started an online profile on a dating app, but I never finished it. I just don’t know that that’s me.”
“Hard to meet people in the same place you’ve been living your whole life,” Bonnie nodded consolingly.
“Yeah.”
The round hole in the table where the umbrella stuck out suddenly seemed like a very interesting place to direct her attention. It was easier than lifting her head to the inquiring eyes across from her. Penny was all for talking about her life to divert her friend to happier thoughts, but she didn’t like the path this was taking.
Without looking, she could feel Bonnie’s energy, her bouncing leg that created changing shadows on the table. Then she heard a long-drawn-out slurp as Bonnie finished the last remnants of her drink.
