doing here?” I asked. “It’s midterms. You can’t be here.”
Risa shrugged. “We told our professors we had to go see about our girl. We were all, like, ‘Fuck your tests, bitches.’”
“We asked nicely to take them later so that we could come see you,” Sharita translated.
Which only made me cry harder.
Brenda drove Rick T to the emergency room. I didn’t know what he told the people who sewed up his stitches so soon after tending to his dead wife. Didn’t care, either. I only saw him once more at the funeral. Then I went back to China to finish out my semester. From then on, I managed to find other places to stay during the holidays and school breaks. And Rick T didn’t invite me to the wedding when he and Brenda got married an appropriate-enough year later.
And ten years after the day my mother died, I found myself remembering her written words.
Don’t be pathetic.
I removed my hand from my purse and didn’t check to see if Caleb had called again. And when I arrived home, I found my two best friends, Risa in a skimpy jumpsuit and Sharita in a gray business suit, waiting for me outside my apartment building.
I parked at the curb right in front of them. “I love you guys,” I said as I got out of the car and I pulled them into my arms. “You two are the best friends ever.”
“I know, how fucking amazing are we with this friendship shit?” Risa asked.
“So amazing,” I answered.
We had all finished hugging when my “Tightrope” ringtone went off.
I pulled out my cell and checked the caller ID. It was a 917 number. New York. It must be Caleb. He had mentioned still needing to get his number changed, even though he had moved from Brooklyn to L.A. over six months ago.
He was finally calling me.
“Who is it?” Sharita asked.
I pushed the “Ignore” option and tossed the phone back into my bag, letting Caleb go to voicemail. “Some boy,” I answered. “Want to order a pizza and watch a movie? Benny and Abigail won’t be home until late.”
“I got the black
Karate Kid
on DVD,” Sharita said, pulling a red Netflix envelope out of her large black leather purse.
“Are you serious? How old are we, talking about watching the
Karate Kid
?” Risa asked. “And why are you carrying around Netflix in your purse?”
“It was a good movie. I keep on telling you …”
“I kind of wanted to see that,” I said, since Tammy wasn’t there to play her usual role of Sharita-Risa fight diffuser.
“Okay, fine, if Thursday wants to watch a kid’s movie, too, then I guess I can deal,” Risa said, stringing a skinny arm around my shoulders. She gave me a little squeeze as we all walked into my apartment building.
November 2010
Yes, marriage is work, but that’s marriage. The first six months of a relationship shouldn’t be hard going, and they most certainly shouldn’t be a lot of work. If the first six months of your relationship isn’t mostly a Hallmark card, get out. If he’s not enthusiastic about you or doesn’t treat you right, or if you find you’re not all that enthusiastic about him or you’re not treating him right, dump him. Because if you two can’t get the easy part right, how the heck do you think you guys are going to handle the hard stuff?
—
The Awesome Girl’s Guide to Dating Extraordinary Men
by Davie Farrell
THURSDAY
----
I had been best friends with Sharita for over a decade. Sharita skipped her midterms to be by my side when my mother died. Sharita even loaned me money to move to Los Angeles after grad school. But at that moment, I was truly considering dumping Sharita as a friend.
“What do you mean you can’t come to my show?” I would have yelled this question, but I had taken the call at work. “You’re seriously bailing on me at the last minute?”
“Marcus just called and he’s got an extra ticket to the Earth, Wind & Fire concert at the Staples Center. Girl, you know how much I love me some Earth, Wind & Fire.”
“Yes, you and my