Moey and I met for dinner and white wine tonight in Ridgewood. Good to catch up. Friends forever. She took off her sunglasses at the outdoor table and I saw the same blue eyes I've been trusting for decades, since we were young girls in Catholic school uniforms and navy blue knee socks.
She once baked me a bday cake with one of those mixes that came complete with the cardboard pans in the 1970s. I still remember opening our creaky garage door that January day and finding her standing there holding it. I used to bake her Bisquick cheesecake pie in the early 80s--until I graduated to deluxe Ed's Cheesecake, a recipe I learned while workng at Good Housekeeping. Now that we're older--and Moey, at least, Is watching her cholesterol--she sometimes asks me to refrain.
We've clinked wine glasses over triumphs and milestones, and wearily lifted coffee cups in rough patches. I'm grateful, that's all--and that includes being thankful that H. was home to give Punchy dinner and put her to bed, so I could have time out. Good night.
TCOY
1. Private Benjamin, family style. Punchy's therapist came to our kitchen in the morning and offered help and compassion and hope for our whole family--counting Figgy, in NYC.
2. My own Private Benjamin appt. @ 5 p.m.
3. Seeing Moey.
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