It has been about four years since Christin visited. We do talk on the phone multiple times a day, much to the dismay of our children, who have gotten into the habit of calling us “Old Ladies.” There is only a two-hour drive that separates my suburb of Seattle and her small town across the water. It’s always easier said than done to plan a meet-up. Life happens. Between her children and mine, something always seems to come up to force us to re schedule, except this time. Now we had a reason, a very important reason to make a meet-up happen.
Christin and I both made arrangements for our children to be someplace else. Today was not the day to have our little darlings tag along. We had things to go over, important things that needed our undivided attention, and not the attention of children who would be requesting extra french fries and ranch dressing before the food was even ordered. It made sense for us to meet for lunch at our old hangout, well kind of. Back in the day PJ Pockets was a pool hall/casino and the occasional concert venue on a much lower scale then what you are probably picturing. Now a days, it is Billy McHales a casual restaurant that has a small bar, and is decked out in Seattle Seahawks gear.
It did not matter to us. We would be in the same place where 14 years earlier, you would find us drinking too much, eating too much, escaping a potentially bad situation one too many times,and first dates with the last guy. Now, in our own little way, in our own little moment, we have come full circle.
As I order a rum and coke, for old times sake of course, I see her jeep pull up. It takes her a minute to gather her belongings. I know the belongings she has in her possession. What we have been working on for the last nine months,what we sacrificed for, our life. The other part of us that is not the mom, or the wife. The part of us that made us who we are today-the good and the bad.
She makes her way to the table just in time for my rum and coke to be delivered. Her arms are full,before we greet, before she sits down, she gently places her laptop and big black binder on the table.
“This is it Jen, it’s ready to go, we did it.”