I wasn’t where I was supposed to be this weekend, wasn’t where I said I’d be. Each scene was from a movie. With sneaky accomplices here and there, I found some people I love dearly and unabashedly and flipped their hearts around a bit.
The Yukon felt more like a boat than it ever has, gliding across the flooded highway down to Milwaukee in a thrashing thunderstorm. I arrived at The Knick, shook the rain from my hair, ordered a Miller (yes!), strolled over to the dark corner where Lindsay laughed with friends. Eyes connect. Take. Double take. Triple take. “She’s not supposed to be here!!” I laugh, move closer in for a hug. “She’s not supposed to be here, she’s supposed to be in New York, she’s supposed to ohhh maayy Gahhd.” [Not unlike our favorite SNL scenes.] She told me about her new house that will be a home with a yard and a fireplace and bathrooms and floors and walls and oh my God we’re getting old. She told me about her new puppy who will play under the Willow trees that we used to daydream under together as young girls, and we toasted to the future.
I parallel parked perfectly for someone who drives about thrice a year, each tire exactly 6 inches from the curb, 10 inches from the cars in front and behind, on Prospect and Lafayette. I sprinted across to the tall brick building through the torrent of rain, buzzed MARINO/SHULEKEVITZ and slowly walked up the stairs as she slowly creaked open her door. It must have started raining inside because Nina’s cheeks became as wet as mine were. She was in her work-out clothes, and her strangling, shaking hug smelled like cheese and garlic; she was in a storm of cooking as usual. “I’m getting ready for my Kentucky Derby party tomor—WHAT are you doing here?!?” She slid her socks around the kitchen, trying to organize the dips and the sauces and the glasses, touching everything because she didn’t know what to do. We calmed ourselves, had a Spotted Cow, and probably hugged about 13 times.
I walked in to Flannerys, which didn’t used to have dance floor but now does, squeezed through the Wisconsin Badger t-shirts and the Brewers caps, and caught the eye of Mr. Jeff Christ. Jeff dropped his bejoweled jaw and tapped Adam on the shoulder. Adam, who was donning both an old Bucks jersey and a new, gave me that shy smile and looked around to see how he could get through the masses to me. They were both macking on ladies at the time, and I had no place in interrupting, so I spent a few minutes defending my purse to a guy who thought it was way too big. The boys and I found one another soon enough and three-way hugged, they said they thought I was teasing them when they got my text asking what they were up to tonight. We toasted to high school and jumped up on the dance floor to get down to “I’m on a Boat.”
I rode my dad’s bike over to Paul & Joanne’s house, parked it behind one of their massive cars, and walked slowly up their flowery path. My empty arms became full when Paul opened the door, saying “What the…” over and over and hugging me, saying “I thought you were a Jehovahs Witness!” Well, far from it. Just a New York auntie surprise. Little Bubby was so excited and surprised to see me that he shat himself, which was so fun! Bubby’s working on his B sounds, discovering how amazing hands are and waiting patiently for his teeth, and mommy and daddy are falling in love all over again watching one another be the perfect parent.
When we got the signal that Colleen and Gianni had arrived at their engagement party, Paul and I walked up the road to the house, slowly and carefully, like Bambi’s brother and sister. Of course, the aunts drove past, waving out the window, tears in their eyes, “Look at you! Look at you!”
We slowly walked around to the backyard, on a lawn lush and green beneath my feet, (Hello Wisconsin!) up to where Colleen stood, squeezing her friends’ baby’s cheeks. She smiled and waved when she saw Paul, assuming he was with his wife, and then looked through her sunglasses, tipped down on her nose, at me… Screamed my name in the same way I had imagined it. A shrill cry of love, of sisterhood, of surprise. The circle of friends and family around us held up their glasses as my sister, my best friend, hugged me harder and longer than she ever had in our lives together. Harder than the times when we’d sleep in the same bunk bed after a Bernstein Bear story and she’d hug me goodnight. Harder than the times we’d stay at in a hotel room and I asked if I could sleep with her because Paul had convinced us that there were antelope in the closet. Harder than the times when we needed each other more than anyone else when our mommy was gone. Harder than she hugged me when I came into her room with that “something … happened … in my undies” kind of look. Harder than she hugged me when I fell in love for the first time, or when I needed her to save me from love time and time again. This was a real sister hug, solid and strong. “LIL’ LISAAAAAH” I heard from behind me, as my new brother-in-law came over with a huge grin on his face, squeezing me until I couldn’t breathe. Success.
The Yukon felt more like a boat than it ever has, gliding across the flooded highway down to Milwaukee in a thrashing thunderstorm. I arrived at The Knick, shook the rain from my hair, ordered a Miller (yes!), strolled over to the dark corner where Lindsay laughed with friends. Eyes connect. Take. Double take. Triple take. “She’s not supposed to be here!!” I laugh, move closer in for a hug. “She’s not supposed to be here, she’s supposed to be in New York, she’s supposed to ohhh maayy Gahhd.” [Not unlike our favorite SNL scenes.] She told me about her new house that will be a home with a yard and a fireplace and bathrooms and floors and walls and oh my God we’re getting old. She told me about her new puppy who will play under the Willow trees that we used to daydream under together as young girls, and we toasted to the future.
I parallel parked perfectly for someone who drives about thrice a year, each tire exactly 6 inches from the curb, 10 inches from the cars in front and behind, on Prospect and Lafayette. I sprinted across to the tall brick building through the torrent of rain, buzzed MARINO/SHULEKEVITZ and slowly walked up the stairs as she slowly creaked open her door. It must have started raining inside because Nina’s cheeks became as wet as mine were. She was in her work-out clothes, and her strangling, shaking hug smelled like cheese and garlic; she was in a storm of cooking as usual. “I’m getting ready for my Kentucky Derby party tomor—WHAT are you doing here?!?” She slid her socks around the kitchen, trying to organize the dips and the sauces and the glasses, touching everything because she didn’t know what to do. We calmed ourselves, had a Spotted Cow, and probably hugged about 13 times.
I walked in to Flannerys, which didn’t used to have dance floor but now does, squeezed through the Wisconsin Badger t-shirts and the Brewers caps, and caught the eye of Mr. Jeff Christ. Jeff dropped his bejoweled jaw and tapped Adam on the shoulder. Adam, who was donning both an old Bucks jersey and a new, gave me that shy smile and looked around to see how he could get through the masses to me. They were both macking on ladies at the time, and I had no place in interrupting, so I spent a few minutes defending my purse to a guy who thought it was way too big. The boys and I found one another soon enough and three-way hugged, they said they thought I was teasing them when they got my text asking what they were up to tonight. We toasted to high school and jumped up on the dance floor to get down to “I’m on a Boat.”
I rode my dad’s bike over to Paul & Joanne’s house, parked it behind one of their massive cars, and walked slowly up their flowery path. My empty arms became full when Paul opened the door, saying “What the…” over and over and hugging me, saying “I thought you were a Jehovahs Witness!” Well, far from it. Just a New York auntie surprise. Little Bubby was so excited and surprised to see me that he shat himself, which was so fun! Bubby’s working on his B sounds, discovering how amazing hands are and waiting patiently for his teeth, and mommy and daddy are falling in love all over again watching one another be the perfect parent.
When we got the signal that Colleen and Gianni had arrived at their engagement party, Paul and I walked up the road to the house, slowly and carefully, like Bambi’s brother and sister. Of course, the aunts drove past, waving out the window, tears in their eyes, “Look at you! Look at you!”
We slowly walked around to the backyard, on a lawn lush and green beneath my feet, (Hello Wisconsin!) up to where Colleen stood, squeezing her friends’ baby’s cheeks. She smiled and waved when she saw Paul, assuming he was with his wife, and then looked through her sunglasses, tipped down on her nose, at me… Screamed my name in the same way I had imagined it. A shrill cry of love, of sisterhood, of surprise. The circle of friends and family around us held up their glasses as my sister, my best friend, hugged me harder and longer than she ever had in our lives together. Harder than the times when we’d sleep in the same bunk bed after a Bernstein Bear story and she’d hug me goodnight. Harder than the times we’d stay at in a hotel room and I asked if I could sleep with her because Paul had convinced us that there were antelope in the closet. Harder than the times when we needed each other more than anyone else when our mommy was gone. Harder than she hugged me when I came into her room with that “something … happened … in my undies” kind of look. Harder than she hugged me when I fell in love for the first time, or when I needed her to save me from love time and time again. This was a real sister hug, solid and strong. “LIL’ LISAAAAAH” I heard from behind me, as my new brother-in-law came over with a huge grin on his face, squeezing me until I couldn’t breathe. Success.
I think they wrote this song for them: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Iq4DsqiW2DI&feature=youtube_gdata
Remember this one? http://lcmattingly.blogspot.com/2009/04/they-stood.html
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