I Think We’re Beyond That

I was rushing out the rental beach house when Cindy, my sister-in-law, walked in from her spin class. Her face was aglow and had a look of triumph as she gave me the once over.  Busted! Had I slithered out the door twenty seconds sooner, I wouldn’t be standing here, stumbling over my words.

“Hey Cindy. I, uh. . . this damp beach towel that I’ve already used at the pool  . . .”

“Yes?”

“And is now wrapped around my waist to go to the beach, uh . . . might be yours.”

She nonchalantly lifts her sunglasses.  “Yes, Tammy. It’s mine. We’ve known each other 25 years. I think we're beyond that!”  How great are those words? Now, I do believe the subtext here is, “mi casa es su casa.” That’s what I’m going for anyway. I can use all her stuff for the whole week! Her Mac Pro makes my Dell laptop look like Grandpa from the Munsters. Her sunglasses are shadier than mine. Her Honda Pilot is bigger than my rental. Hell! Even her kids are more polite than mine.

This certainly isn't the first time I've been busted. My husband and I have a yearly summer party, maybe 25-30 guests. Now, if you leave something of yours and you want it back, just call. It's even possible I may go out of my way to drop it off the next day or month.

Well, a couple summers ago, a fabulous pair of designer sunglasses appeared at one of our parties and never left. I called at least two friends to see if they were missing a pair of shades. Nope! They weren’t. So, September rolls around. And yes, I’m going to start wearing them. I’m not about to pay $300 for a pair of Burberry sunglasses, (I thought they only made rain coats—who knew!) but the least I can do is get some use out of them for someone else.

Then one sunny, autumn day, my friend Michelle and I meet for lunch. As I recall, she was a guest at our party and perhaps was one that didn’t get called. She takes one look and compliments me, “You look fabulous. I lost a pair of Burberrys just like that.” Now, she and I have been friends since 2002. She is being 100% sincere and not angling to find out if I stole her glasses. (When my other friends meet her, they are, like, "Wow, Tammy! She's friends with you??") I quickly evaluate how important our relationship is. Our children grew up together, we’d throw each other under the bus to sleep with Jake Gyllenhaal, and she can afford Burberrys (the glasses and the slickers).

A decision has been made. “Michelle, thank you." I touch her hand for added sincerity.  "I guess we both just have fabulous taste.”

I am kidding! I did not say that, only the bubble above my head reflects that.

I whip those glasses off my face and stick the end of the temple in my mouth.

“Michelle! These are yours. I called around after the party, but couldn’t reach you! Please! You must take them back. I mean it!”

I chew on the end of that temple like it was one of the tentacles from our calamari salad.

“That’s okay,” she sighs, eyeing the temple in my mouth. “Your birthday’s in six months. Consider them an early present.”

Just like my sister-in-law at the beach. I guess that was her way of saying, "I think we're beyond that!"

“Well, okay.  Let me get lunch.” Now, I was really happy we had shared that calamari salad. But damn! Why did I have to chew so hard on that temple?!