I didn't care Mary knocked my pencil case to the ground every time she walked by my desk. Nobody saw. Nobody except Mallory. And that day she saw me do this. She saw me put my hands around Mary's neck as I said to her with gritted teeth, Mary's head flew back and forth as I shook her. Mallory yelled at me to stop. And so, I did.
When we were 26, Mallory got married and I was her maid of honour. Two years later, she had a daughter. Meghan. She asked me to be the godmother. My answer was no. Her eyes stared back at me, hurt.
I don't go to church anymore. It doesn't feel right to say yes.
Mall, please ask someone else.
Don't do that anymore. Ever.
It has to be you. You're my oldest friend and I don't know anyone with more integrity.
After, he asks us if we're ready to order. Rachel orders the fish because "trust me, they know their fish here." I love fish but as soon as I hear her say that, I order the rack of lamb. Mallory orders the mushroom pasta.
So, I stood next to her in church and I watched her rock her body, cradling Meghan in her arms. The same way all human bodies instinctively do when they hold a new and precious life. And I remembered thinking,
Will I ever do that?
After we settle into our seats, we look at our menus. Then, Rachel, with a flurry of hand motions, summons our server Sebastian to our table and asks him to take a picture of us. As Sebastian holds the phone up to his face to frame the picture, Rachel says in a loud whisper,
Later, when I became successful, I overheard my mother brag to her friends that I shot the latest campaign for the company that makes the gold and diamond watches they all wore. The truth I don't want to admit is that it pleased me to hear her say that.
When Mallory and Rachel started university, that's when I started working as a photographer's assistant. My mother described it to her friends as my "little hobby" until I found out what I really wanted to do. She meant get married and have children. Mallory and Rachel felt sorry for me. That I wasn't with them, strolling on campus with a vanilla latte in my hand.
It's okay if you're nervous. You know who we're with, right? Eileen Sze! But she's our oldest, dearest friend. So, no pressure!
On my way home from dinner, I already knew the answer was no. As I listen to the washer filling with water. I sit on the couch, stare at my phone, try to think of the words I can say that will soften the blow. All I can come up with is, "Sorry, but no. It just doesn't feel right." I press the send button.
I wonder if this is her way of giving me a chance to keep the friendship going, to keep the tie with Mallory intact.
Whatever. I'm glad this happened. Now, we know what kind of friend you really are.
Well, aren't you going to say anything?
A couple minutes later, my phone rings. It's Rachel. Two rings. Three rings, four, five.
"I don't have anything left to say about it," I say. And I hang up. A knot inside of me unravels then, the way a knot does after it's been tugged on and pulled and turned and pried and suddenly, just seems to come loose all on its own.
You're not going to do it? This one little thing? You know you're not as great as you think you are.
"Hello," I say.
I don't think I'm great, Rachel. My saying no doesn't mean that.