December 19, 2001
Small World
I am sitting at the back counter with Monica and Melinda, sick with the innuendo passing between Brian and Monica, bagging flowers and getting thoroughly frustrated.
Two kids come in, high school kids. They're wearing long coats, skater types. I know automatically that they are together, the girl looks like one of those cute, self confident types who always intimidate me.
They cruise around, playing with stuff. I look at the guy a couple of times, am convinced I have seen him somewhere before. When he asks me to help him with a costume, I ask him and it turns out he is one of Kelsi's friends, a guy we hung out with on the fourth of July about two years ago.
It's a small world.
He and the girl walk around some more, and then I keep looking at her. I'm thinking I'm nuts, but I can't help but think I recognize her, too. But the person I think she is she cannot be, but it's nagging me and I have to ask. I walk over to them and kind of wait to be noticed, waiting to be rejected and whispered about.
I open my mouth to speak.
"Excuse me, is your name Amber?"
"Yeah."
A soft giggle. Internally, I choke. Now that I am looking right at her I know this is her.
"Do you recognize me?" I ask, noting the glitter on her face, the frames of her glasses, her roots the color I remember them but the rest of her hair not.
A hand flies to her mouth. Her eyes widen.
"O, my God, Jill!"
At this moment we both just fall into eachother's arms, and despite myself I start to cry, holding her so hard I am surprised. I can't let her go, and even when I pull away to look at her again my tears drive me back into an embrace.
I haven't seen my cousin for three and a half years. When her mom and her dad, who is my also my cousin, split up, her mom gained custody and Amber chose not to see her father anymore. Which I can pretty much understand. But seeing as her mother loathes our family, she also gave up the opportunity to see us.
When I was little, my parents would drag us over Gary's (her dad) house, and Amber and I would play barbies for hours. I probably still have one or two of hers amidst mine. We liked the same type of books and we would sing together and celebrate holidays together. And somehow, my brain forgot all of this. Wasn't phased when she just kind of vanished out of my life.
And today it just hit me. I scrambled for a pen and paper and we took down eachother's vitals, e-mail addresses, phone numbers long lost. We rattled quasi-uncomfortably at the counter, and it was almost as if we didn't know what to say to eachother after so long. Small talk seemed silly, didn't we know eachother so well?
But I'm going to call her tomorrow. And she is going to come over sometime soon.
It's an even smaller world.
astera at 10:12 p.m.