She Wears it Well
by Anna McDougall
The woman posing cheek to cheek with me looks like a character from a comic book. Her eyebrows are lifted too high, hair too spiky, lips too red. I’m not surprised Joan’s forwarded this picture already, with all that free time, but she doesn’t look at all like the person I lunched with yesterday.
She entered the chic restaurant like the perfect regular pushing open both giant double doors while I watched from a distant table for two. Joan was dressed in a corduroy bomber style jacket, scattered beige fur slipping from underneath the sleeves and the collar. Dark jeans hugged her thighs before flaring out fashionably beyond the knee. Pointed-toe, high-heeled boots improved her height and shape. I adored her new haircut set off by huge silver hoops. “Lori! I’ve missed you!” Joan held her arms wide as she stood beside the table, waiting for me to struggle up out of my chair and hug her.
“Me too, Joan. You look fabulous.”“Oh thanks, it’s the new me. Happier, healthier, less baggage weighing me down.” “In more ways than one, you’ve lost a ton of weight. And you’re tanned.” “Spray tan. Isn’t it great?” The waiter came around and I looked down at my menu again. Joan let hers sit.
“That salad with the blueberries, what’s it called?” She beamed at the young man and he chatted her up for moment. While they teased each other, I scanned the pretentious dish names. I chose something from the middle of the list, anxious to be alone with my friend.
“So I’ve rejoined the yoga studio we used to go to, remember it?”
“Oh I wish I could go back!” I said. “When do you find time to go?” “Tuesday and Thursday evenings most weeks. Kevin has the kids those nights so I’m free to take care of me.” “How have…the arrangements been working out?” I asked softly. “Well, he’s an asshole most of the time. Thinks he’s going to keep running my life. He’s obviously not at peace with himself. This is what I’m learning through yoga, to be aware of my body in my environment and not to worry about anyone else. It has helped me clear out all that stuff left behind by the conflict when we were together.”
She strained her voice and I saw her lips quiver. “I should have left him years ago….”
I sipped my tea.
Joan grabbed my free hand, “Now I can sit and watch any movie I like, read a book, eat meals whenever, whatever, and not have to cook for some man who doesn’t even have the decency to thank me. No more boxers bunched up in the bathroom corners. No more of those phlegmy coughing attacks every friggin’ morning.”
She sat back in her chair and breathed deeply. “Anyway, enough about that. I have to tell you about last Saturday. Some friends and I were at ‘Vintage’ and–
“Oh yeah,” I said, pleased to contribute something. “That’s a new boutique, isn’t it?”
“No,” she laughed, “it’s a club. You should come with sometime.”
I lifted the mug again to hide my warm cheeks. This new lifestyle obviously suited her.
Joan reached under her chair, bringing an oversized leather purse onto the table. From it she pulled a tiny silver camera.“I’ve finally joined the digital age,” she said, waving her prize.
“I’ve finally joined the digital age,” she said, waving her prize. “I’ve finally joined the digital age,” she said, waving her prize. She shook her head and squinted at the buttons before moving to speak with a man at the next table. He followed her back carrying the camera.
“I’ve finally joined the digital age,” she said, waving her prize.
“Ready?”