The house was still except for the Brahms Lullaby that played on repeat while the baby slept in the swing. Harper’s life was stuck in the same endless loop. Feed the baby, rock the baby, change the baby, feed the baby, rock the baby, change the baby. No one told the hard truths about motherhood. They talked about it nebulously in clichés. Cherish the moment. It’s just a phase. They grow so fast. No one told Harper when she touched her son’s cinnamon-swirl hair she would feel a mix of absolute terror and fierce love that brought her to tears at least once a day. That her only support network would come from the virtual hugs of moms she’d never met in a Facebook group. That she would become a living ghost, somehow surviving on three hours of sleep. Earlier she spent thirty minutes looking for the milk jug only to find it in the pantry and discovered a pile of baby socks in the dishwasher. They called it mommy brain like it was an innocuous part of life now.
Harper slumped at the kitchen table with the stack of thank-you cards she still needed to sign from baby gifts and tried to ignore the dishes piled in the sink and the laundry draped over the couch. She wanted to sink into her elbows and close her eyes. Sleep when baby sleeps. Time was such a precious thing, it couldn’t be wasted on a nap. Her stomach rumbled. Every night that Brad was gone, dinner had become a frozen entree that rotated in the microwave for three minutes. She used to chop, braise, sauté. Research new recipes for fun.
Her cell phone chimed with a message. A photo of Brad in front of Tower Bridge. He wore a baseball cap and shit-eating grin. The Thames glistened gold as the sun began to set and pink clouds scattered the sky. Wish you were here!
She wanted to hurl the phone across the room. When she studied abroad in London at eighteen, she never made it across the bridge. She meant to, planned to, but then the semester was over and London became a daydream of a place she’d someday return.
Brad called yesterday with words punctuated by yawns until Harper snapped, ”Tired?” He told her about skipping out early on the conference to explore the city with his co-workers. About getting buzzed off pints of ale in an English pub with greasy fish and chips, the ease of riding the Tube, seeing a bunch of stolen artifacts at the British Museum, and finding a great little Indian place for dinner. “Did you know Chicken Tikka Masala was actually invented in the UK?” When it was her turn to talk, the conversation was cut short with the baby’s anguished cry for more food.
She rubbed her temples and lifted the phone to open Facebook. Whatever happened to Sadie Richards? It struck her in a mix of sadness and wonder that she hadn’t looked up her old London roommate and temporary best friend during that semester. Before Facebook, people faded out of your life. Five-seconds later, there she was. Sadie (Richards) Lowe, of Buffalo, New York. Married. Same ivy-colored eyes but instead of a platinum pixie, her hair was auburn, sleek, and draped over one shoulder like a real-estate headshot. Harper’s finger wavered over Sadie’s profile, Request friend.
She tried to resolve this was the same Sadie from San Francisco who was a self-proclaimed anarchist, vegan, and feminist. Who spent every weekend protesting something and boasted about being pepper sprayed and arrested, twice. Harper had envied her passion. At eighteen, she never cared that much about anything. Sadie encouraged Harper to not give a fuck, and for a small moment in time, Harper hadn’t.
There were Harper and Sadie attempting cartwheels in the middle of Leicester Square, pretending to be sisters while flirting with Brits in a pub, shopping for vintage trench coats at Portobello Market, staying up until two a.m., talking about nothing and everything. Sadie confided in Harper about her various hook-ups back in San Francisco. Harper told Sadie she only had one other boyfriends before she met Brad junior year of high school, how she lost her virginity to him, how they already talked about marriage and their fantasy kids.
One night stuck out in memory. About three months into the semester, Sadie finally convinced Harper to try Ecstasy. Sadie had slipped a peach-colored pill stamped with a Mercedes symbol into Harper’s palm. “This shit will change your world.”
Harper hesitated. She grew up with the belief to just say no, that drugs were a door to the darkness–to a street corner with a syringe, to going insane by jumping off a building. “You bought into all that Nancy Reagan bullshit,” Sadie said. “Most of those drug stories are urban myths perpetuated by the government. The FDA approved shit–like Oxy and Benzos are way more dangerous. E is a fun drug. This isn’t crack or heroin. You’re not going to get addicted and end up in a flop-house.” Sadie said it with such conviction that Harper popped the pill in her mouth and let it dissolve under her tongue.
“That’s my girl.” Sadie cranked up the volume to The Cure on the CD player in their dorm room, then poured Vodka into shot glasses rimmed with sugar. They threw back the drinks and bit into a slice of lemon. Harper’s face turned as it burned her throat.
“One more. Once the E hits you, it’ll be magical.”
Harper took the last shot and they swung their hips to the music. Sadie lent Harper a short pleather skirt and Harper topped it with a very un-Harper-like tank she found at H&M. Shredded and black, with, Punk, across in red rhinestones, it showed off her midriff and busty chest.
Harper stared in the mirror at her moon-shaped pupils with a sliver of blue iris. Sadie sat behind her and sectioned her hair into tiny braids.
“Look at us, Harper. Do you think when we grow up we’ll recognize who we become?”
Harper giggled, unsure if she was supposed to answer. “I just hope we’re still friends.”
“Of course we will. I’m so glad we met, you’re so fresh and real. I was worried everyone here would think I was a freak.”
Harper’s whole body tingled. “I wish we could stay in this moment and forget about all the rest.”
“Hold on.” Sadie pulled her vintage Polaroid camera out of the closet, propped it up on the shelf, and switched on the timer. They put their arms around each other, bodies warm and buzzing. Click. Sadie pulled the picture out and shook it impatiently. They left for the club before it could develop.
After a ride on the Tube, Sadie grabbed Harper’s hand and plowed through crowds while the brisk air nipped Harper’s bare legs. Aware of the women with judgmental whispers and men eye-fucking her, Harper wanted to stretch her shirt over her belly and disappear. Sadie was oblivious to it all with a feverish gleam in her eyes. Who cares. Who cares.
They reached the club and a line wrapped around the building. The exterior was tall and skinny, wall-to-wall brick with sprawling windows on every floor and intricate scalloped designs at the top, like a library or museum. Harper hopped up and down in the cold hugging her arms to her chest and waited for the drug to work.
“Remember to act cool,” Sadie said in a low whisper. “They won’t let us in if we look fucked up.”
“What if we get caught and kicked out and.”
“Relax. Everyone is on something at this place. Trust me.”
When they reached the entrance, the bouncer looked them up and down and let them past the rope. “Unreal,” Harper whispered. The only clubs Harper had been to back in Portland were claustrophobically small with sticky floors, grinding boys, and black lights that gave everything an iridescent glow. This was like a movie set, like how she imagined a dance club was supposed to be. There were three levels and when she put her palm against the wall it pulsed with life. She stopped at the second floor and gazed at the dancers below– an ocean of bodies mashed against each other, arms in the air, faces obscured by the lasers that burst across the room.
Her senses started to pop. She was hypnotized by two dancers gyrating with glow sticks, a dizzying circle of green and pink until Sadie’s hand led her away. Harper traced her finger-tips along a glistening spiked head, petted a cheetah-printed top. No one cared, they caressed her back and smiled like they all shared a secret. Harper wanted to touch everything and feel everything and love everything.
An Italian dude with black hair and deep brown eyes handed Harper a segment of orange, the skin puckered and luminous. The flesh clung to her mouth and she licked off the juice. She fed the orange to Sadie, who closed her eyes and moaned, “It’s like sex.”
Harper, Sadie, and the Italian bounced and flailed their limbs. Harper closed her eyes and Sadie’s palms were on her cheeks, lips brushing lips, tasing vodka and citrus. Harper’s whole body tingled and she melted away with a kind of happiness she didn’t know possible. Sadie abruptly turned and exchanged Harper for the Italian. Fueled by a surge of confidence and a tinge of jealousy, Harper centered herself between Sadie and the Italian. The three of them took turns making-out until their mouths were numb. The Italian’s tongue was determined, while Sadie’s was like a whisper. Harper knew she would never tell Brad about this night—that it couldn’t count as cheating, that it would always be for herself.
After what felt like hours, Harper’s knees suddenly buckled like she had lost control of her body. Sadie and the Italian grabbed her elbows before she could fall and dragged her outside. “Here, sweetie, drink this.” Sadie handed her a bottle of water that Harper chugged with urgency. The cold shocked her into becoming aware of the desperate need for sleep. She leaned against Sadie who spoke in a hushed tone. “You’re okay, you’re okay.”
Harper wanted the Italian to go away. He was there as an afterthought, his role was over. Sadie read her mind and shot him an annoyed glance. “You can go back, I got it from here.”
He continued to stand next to them and Sadie rolled her eyes. They walked down the street, arms linked while the Italian followed like a puppy. He didn’t speak English except for the same sentence he kept on repeat, “Come to my hotel room? Come to my hotel room?”
They shook their heads without saying a word. Finally, Sadie turned and spoke slow with her finger against his chest. “Fuck. Off. Comprende?” He raised his arms and muttered something but stopped following. Harper and Sadie found a bench and slept with their bodyweight as blankets until the Tube started to run in the early morning. The night left Harper with a piercing hangover that split open her body in two and lasted all day. Still, she regretted nothing.
When the semester ended, Harper went back to Oregon, and Sadie to San Francisco. There were a few email exchanges but their friendship faded into a memory, evident only by the single photo Sadie had gifted her.
***
The kitchen darkened as clouds blanketed the sun. The lullaby melody continued to play and Harper’s hand cramped as she scrawled another note, Thank you so much for the adorable personalized baby blanket. Ten minutes later, Facebook dinged. She jumped up to grab the phone and it slipped out of her fingers, hitting the floor with a thud. The baby stirred in the swing and popped open his watery grey eyes. Harper relaxed as he went back to sleep. She cradled the phone. Friend request accepted.
She immediately opened Sadie’s Facebook page. There were a barrage of hashtags next to beauty products, #beyourownboss, #earnamillion, #changingskinchanginglives. Close-up shots of women using anti-aging products. Sadie and a muscular husband with pig-tailed toddlersHarper pushed the confusion away. Sadie grew up. She had a career.
Her heart raced as a message came through.
Harper, I’m so glad you reached out, it’s been forever! Congrats on the baby, adorable family 🙂 Your timing is super crazy too, I’m actually going to be in Portland for a conference at the end of the month and would love to see you.
XOXO Sadie
Harper replied back right away.
It’s so good to hear from you! Are you still involved in activism? Your family is beautiful and wow, twins! Would love to see you when you’re in town!
As soon as Harper clicked send, she cringed at the triteness of the message and her enthusiastic usage of explanation marks. Could she sound any more needy? But two minutes later, Sadie replied and Harper felt a rush of adrenaline. Could she be just as desperate for adult contact? They exchanged a plan to pick a date and place when Sadie came to town. The messages were full of fluff like the kind she made in passage with moms she barely knew. She wanted to hear Sadie’s gravelly voice and let the conversation flow like they were back in college. Once they met-up in person, it would be different. They would reminisce about London and share hopes for the future. Trade war stories about marriage and motherhood, where every sentence didn’t end with, but they’re all worth it.
Clink wine glasses. Cheers to old friends. Cheers to no bullshit.
***
Harper’s chin dropped as she struggled to stay awake on the couch. She glanced at the clock. Where the hell was Brad? The baby tugged on her nipple, stopped, and started again. Twenty minutes later the doorknob jiggled and Brad opened the door. Harper tried not to roll her eyes as he dropped his briefcase and threw his jacket on the couch.
“What a day.” He bent toward Harper’s mouth for a kiss and she traded a quick peck.
“I’ve got to get ready. I thought you were coming home earlier.”
He pressed his lips together and shrugged. “Traffic. Is little dude done eating?”
She tried to brush aside her irritation at Brad’s ignorance that this was a really big fucking deal and pulled the baby gently off her breast. The baby met her eyes with a gummy smile. At two and a half months, this was his new trick. Every time it made her body fill with warmth. She handed him over to Brad, then ran upstairs to get dressed. After changing her outfit four times, she finally decided on skinny jeans she could barely squeeze into with a peasant blouse and boots. Boho, yet cool. Then she spent twenty minutes hiding the dark circles under her eyes and piling on mascara. She wished she had a glass of wine to calm her nerves. It was silly, she was seeing an old friend, not going on a hot date.
Harper and Brad had gone out exactly once without the baby since he was born. They sat in the restaurant and sipped wine while she feigned interest in Brad’s stories about work and struggled to think of other topics besides the baby’s bowel movements, the weird rash on his belly and the cute way he yawned. “Are you even listening?” Brad had said when she lifted her phone again to see if her mom had texted with any news about the baby.
She paused at her reflection and smacked her lips together with coral lipstick. Tonight would be different.
Downstairs, Brad paced the house with the baby to his chest, and pointed to different things. “Window.” “Bird.” “Mommy.”
A pang of guilt struck Harper as she kissed the top of the baby’s head, taking in his sweet, milky, smell. “Mommy loves you.” She put her arms around Brad’s shoulders. “Thank you.”
“Stay out of trouble,” he teased.
She hurried to the driveway to greet the Toyota with the bright Lyft sign. The guy behind the wheel had friendly cola-colored eyes and a collared shirt. “Big plans?” He had a slight accent Harper couldn’t place. Normally mute in any kind of situation with a stranger, Harper went onto have a fluid conversation about Portland traffic, the weather, and rising house prices. She thumbed through the brochures and maps in the seat pocket. A tourist in her own city, she rarely ventured outside her five-mile bubble and had no idea about the hottest restaurants and bars anymore. Her legs bounced as they crossed the bridge.
She opened the window all the way down and closed her eyes. The breeze whipped her face and it smelled of fresh grass and rain. She put her palm out like she did as a child, and remembered why she liked it. You could literally feel the world pass by. Everything had an orange tint as the sun began to set.
The driver pulled into the hip east-side gentrified pocket of town. They weren’t meeting for another twenty minutes so she walked around by herself for a few blocks. The streets were filled with trendy restaurants and bars in a neighborhood she never would have dared to venture ten years ago when it was known for gangs and violence. A line formed behind a restaurant flashing an ‘Open 24-hours’ sign on the window next to a brewery with a line of bike racks. She passed a thrift store called ‘Redo’ and a homestead store with chickens called ‘Forage.’ Pot and grease filled the air and she breathed it all in to remind herself it was real.
“Harper?”
Sadie stood at the entrance to the restaurant. She wore a peacoat and slacks with heels and her hair was pulled into a french twist. So. Business.
They embraced and Sadie air-kissed both cheeks, which Harper awkwardly received. The restaurant was some kind of take on middle eastern food called ‘Saffron.’ It had high wood beam ceilings and lit candles at each table. Ironically, Sadie was the one who suggested it after reading about it in Bon Appetit.
Harper tried to shake the feeling the Sadie she knew in college would make fun of people who air-kissed. They both ordered cardamon martinis and spent a few minutes talking about London.
“Remember that one night,” Harper said. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “When we both rolled?” She paused and reached down into her purse to grab the Polaroid that had been buried in her closet. In the photo, Harper and and Sadie were so close, their bodies overlapped.
Sadie cocked her head. “Wow, we look messed up. I can’t believe I thought I could pull that hairstyle off.”
“Remember the Italian at the club? And how we…” Harper’s cheeks burned. Made-out didn’t seem right. It was more than that.
“We did what? Everything is such a blur from that semester. Wait a minute.” Her eyes flickered. “Did we go back to that guy’s apartment?”
“That must have been someone else.” Harper took the photo back and set it face down next to her drink. “It was a long time ago, anyway.” She smiled like it was nothing.
They exchanged abbreviated stories of the last ten years. Sadie was still passionate about animal rights but now ate organic meat. At twenty-one, she had an epiphany that she spent too much time being angry at the world. “That girl is long gone.” She met her husband at NYU while she was pursuing an MBA in Marketing.
“Aren’t there times that you wish you could go back to how it was though? To that freedom?” Harper said.
Sadie’s face bunched and a serious look came over her green eyes.
“Have we decided on food?” The server had a band of tiny stars across her cheeks like freckles. Harper was about to tell her to give them a minute when Sadie started to order. After the waitress left, Sadie took a sip of water and glanced around the room like she was expecting someone, then shifted her focus back to Harper. “What did you ask me?”
“Nothing.”
“I was telling you about NYU, right? After I got my MBA I got a job working at this marketing firm in the city. The pay was great but I worked all the time and with Jay’s job it was too much, you know?”
Sadie continued her story and Harper kept nodding at the right moments. She quit after her girls were born two years ago and they moved away to Buffalo for a quieter lifestyle, then started working for a beauty and skincare company called Verity. She was one of the top performers and worked diligently to expand the presence of their sustainable makeup line. Harper dipped a piece of fluffy pita into beet hummus as Sadie spoke like an Infomercial.
“They only sell innovative dermatologist backed products. The doctors that started it are amazing women. They know their stuff.”
Harper suppressed a yawn. Her breasts grew heavy and she pictured the baby in a cornflower blue onesie, curled in his crib. The waitress brought their next round of drinks and Harper’s cheeks warmed as she started on her second martini. She had a flash of Sadie in a mini dress, standing on the bed in their dorm room, belting out an off-tune song, while Harper collapsed on the floor in a fit of laughter.
“Do you have any plans to go back to London? I’ve been wanting to go for so long, but, then we had the baby…You know how that can be,” Harper said.
Sadie’s face brightened. ”Actually, Verity is having a big conference in London next fall. Jay and the twins are coming too.”
Harper finished her drink and shook her head when the waitress asked if they wanted another round.
“Come on. It’s been ten years. We still need to catch up.”
“Well, maybe one more.” Relax, she told herself. Stop overthinking this.
“Are you going back to work?”
Harper shook her head. “Daycare is so expensive and I never really liked my job anyway so we both decided it makes more sense this way. It’s hard for me to imagine leaving him with anyone.” Her voice trailed. “But.”
“Before I started working again I thought I would go crazy. It can be so lonely and fucking boring. Right?” Sadie said in a whisper.
Harper sat up, more alert. There was the Sadie she knew. “Yes, exactly. No one ever says that. There are times I look at my baby and the love I feel…It makes me want to burst. At the same time, I’ve become a shell. Sometimes I don’t even know who I am anymore.”
Sadie nodded solemnly. ”When you’re a mother, you give your whole self away.”
Harper’s cheeks flushed and for the first time of the night, she was at ease. Finally, someone who got it. “None of our friends have kids yet. They visit and ooh and aah over him, give him back, and go on with their lives.”
“There’s too much pressure on us, Harper. Moms need lives away from their kids.”
“Yes, exactly. I wish Brad understood this…”
“I have an idea. You can still stay home, but have more freedom.”
Harper took a sip of her third martini, realizing she was on the verge of being smashed. She put down the drink and snuggled to follow Sadie’s words.
“Since I started working with Verity, I’ve already doubled my old salary and am on my way to earning a Lexus. I still get to see my girls but this way I feel like I’m doing something besides making mac and cheese and folding laundry. In the last two years, I’ve already matched up ten other stay-at-home moms with consulting opportunities.”
No, No, No! “Consulting opportunities?”
“You would be perfect for it.”
Harper felt like she had been punched. She took a long sip of water and tried to keep her voice from shaking. “Sales. Isn’t my thing.”
“That’s the beauty of it.” Sadie’s hands moved with enthusiasm. “No one wants a pushy door-to-door type anymore. Could you have pictured me doing that? This is mostly online. You can promote the products and recruit other team members to friends or stay-at-home moms in your circle and social media. Put as much effort into as you want. If you only want to earn a little bit of money here and there, totally fine. Or if your goal is six-figures and a car, you can go for that, too. It is so flexible and low-pressure. And if you come to the conference, we can have a London reunion. It’d be so much fun.” Sadie’s voice had an intonation like a valley girl and Harper wanted to puke.
Harper studied Sadie’s face for any indication that she cared. That she remembered. But Sadie continued to look at her with the same sales-pitch smile. Harper longed to grasp Sadie’s hand and tell her she regretted losing touch, that their short friendship meant something deep to her. To compel Sadie to admit the same. She stood up and tried to steady her feet. “Excuse me.”
Harper hurried to the bathroom and faced the alternative–she was a vague sketch from Sadie’s past who met the ideal profile for her multilevel marketing scheme. She touched the walls to steady herself and blotted her wet eyes with a tissue to fix the splotchy mascara that bled down her face like a drunken sorority girl. Or, a desperate new mom. She splashed some water on her face as three early twenty-somethings walked into the bathroom, all giggles, voices running together, barely meeting her eyes as they each went into a stall and continued to talk over their pee. “I’m so drunk….” “I can’t believe she said that…” “Seriously?”
Harper balled up the tissue and made her way back to the table. Sadie eyed a dessert menu and looked up as Harper sat down.
“Everything okay? Should we splurge?”
“I actually need to get going. Brad texted me and the baby is freaking out.”
“Oh, boo. Husbands, they don’t get it, do they?”
“It’s been nice catching up, though.” Harper’s words were mechanical, like the kind she reserved for check-out clerks at the grocery store who asked about her day.
Sadie reached down into her oversized beige leather bag and handed Harper a stack of business cards and a small vial. “Try this sample. It makes your lips so soft and full. Let me know if you have any questions about Verity. And if you know anyone else who is interested, give them my info. I know you would be amazing at this, Harper.”
Harper tried to catch the eyes of the waitress who walked past her without noticing.
“Before I forget, we have an amazing product special right now that’s the best deal I’ve ever seen them offer. The discount is way below what I can even touch as a consultant. I’d be a bad friend if I didn’t tell everyone I know about this.” Sadie reached over and gently touched under Harper’s right eye with the pad of her fingertip. Harper tried not to flinch. “Raccoon eyes. I had them bad after the twins. I guarantee if you apply this every night you’ll start to notice a difference in a month.”
Defeated, Harper ordered seventy-five dollar eye cream, as the waitress finally dropped off their check.
“Wait, selfie time!” Sadie put one arm around Harper’s shoulder while she held up her cell phone. Harper gave an automatic smile and more than anything wanted to crawl into bed.
After they split and paid the bill, they waited outside for separate rides. It started to drizzle and the temperature dropped. Sadie gazed up at the sky and folded her arms across her chest. “Reminds me of London.” She pulled Harper into a long hug.
”If you’re ever in Buffalo, let me know.” There was something sad and desperate to Sadie’s voice. “Imagine our families together.”
“That’s my Lyft,” Harper said, as a grey Subaru pulled up to the curb. Sadie raised her palm as Harper shut the door.
A peace sign air freshener hung on the mirror and the driver’s hair was silver and braided down one shoulder. “How was your night?”
“Fine.” Harper pressed her fingers to the cold window and watched Sadie grow smaller as the car drove away and everything became distorted by rain drops. She realized the Polaroid was still at the restaurant and knew she wouldn’t call about collecting it.
A swirl of lights illuminated the car as they drove over the bridge, away from the city and the rain started to pound the roof of the car. More than anything she wished for the baby in her arms with his bowed lips and fingers that gripped so tight, needing her, loving her.
She drifted in and out of a drunk sleep until her phone sounded with a Facebook alert. The what-ifs clung to her mind with a slight hope that Sadie would reveal the whole night had been some kind of practical joke. She looked one last time at Sadie’s Facebook wall. Harper was tagged in a snapshot of the restaurant with the caption, Besties reunite from London She crinkled her face and for a split second wondered if she was being too harsh. Too cynical. Maybe Sadie was trying to make a living and innocently thought Harper would be interested. Maybe it was her way of connecting.
Then, her eyes fall on the image directly below Verity’s, Eternal Youth serum. I’d be a bad friend if I didn’t tell you all about this great new deal!!
Harper clicked, unfollow.