Saturday in the Dark

The day after you died was gorgeous, freakishly so for the first week of January. My run outside left me with new tan lines and a new plan. I wanted to start our play date early, go to a D.C. dog park maybe or walk around 14 Street and shop at all those new stores I’d been making up fun headlines for (or cliche ridden headlines, depending on which reporter you asked.) But alas, we would not squeeze into Pulp that day. My first call to you did not go straight to voice mail, so I had no reason not to think you too were out frolicking on Connecticut, the street of connections for you. Maybe you were at Marvelous Market, cursing the prices but giving in instead of having your 20th Cosi turkey sandwich in a month. Maybe you’d taken a run and were caught in Alanis and Scissor Sisters. Maybe. Probably.

When you hadn’t called back by 4, I tried again and this one went straight to voicemail. Hmm, popular guy. Is he off doing something naughty? No, of course, not. Ed was in India and you were in love. Maybe you were getting a massage. Unlike me, you’d always been able to wrangle a good one at the last minute without any logistical gymnastics. I was a little pissed though. My good mood was started to deflate and it was remembering that it was January outside.

So I started to pepper you with emails:

you online?

Saturday, January 6, 2007 4:35 PM

From:

“Amanda Long” <along@bizjournals.com>

To:

jmccalla@bizjournals.com

I’m starting to have Falls Church torpor. It’s like I either want to GO
OUT officially (and by that I mean watching the nuttiness of the
inauguration and getting un-Fenty photos for the back page) or go get my
jammy pants on.
I’m still in the talk me out of it mode, but damn I hate being so Rita. i
need a helicopter or a Samantha-magic nose.
Still no way you’ll go to Fenty, right? We could leave early and go see
Vandana.

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Then I left and walked around Target, circling the stupid faux World Market items it has periodically. I hate the vase I bought that day. I knew something was going down bad. I had no idea who to call. Robert went off to the poker night right next to your house, telling me NOT to worry.I called Lucy, she said the same thing.  They sounded so calm. I didn’t believe them. How could you bail on our slumber party? Sure we’d canceled last minute before –but that was the beauty of the friendship: We could call without leaving one another in the dark. I sat home alone and worried and talked myself out of driving to your house.

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