June 15, 2007

They knew me when

It was nine years in the making, my friendship with these two. And it has been another nine since I moved across the country from them. We have seen one another one or twice and have e-mailed sporadically. They have kept up with my life through the column, as do thousands of people I don't even know. But these two know Keeper and have seen me cry and can hear my voice when they read my column.

This visit back to Indiana, I wasn't going to miss seeing them-I made sure we had a date. I checked in at the front desk of their office, where I worked with Sandra and Donna all those years ago. They flew through the door together and each had the face that Corky gets when I get out the biscuits. They were genuinely delighted to see me.

And I was completely happy to be in their company again. We picked right up where we left off. They filled me in on office politics and we traded some gossip. We showed pictures of the kids, all of them adults and some parents themselves now. We told each other that we hadn't changed a bit, but if we didn't love each other, we might have noticed some additional wrinkles.

Sandra was Lucy Ricardo to my Ethel Mertz back then. We worked together, sometimes ate together, and always knew how to make each other giggle. We consoled each other through problems with our teenagers and helped with each other's workload when we could. I could tell her anything.

Donna was hired later, and all you need to know about Donna is that she hired an Elvis impersonator to intercept her as she walked down the aisle at her own wedding. She's cute and sexy and she flirts outrageously with everyone - including my husband and Sandra's. We forgive her because we love her. Donna makes every day brighter just by showing up.

I have made many dear and lasting friendships since I moved to California, but there's something special about the ones I made when I was still very much a work in progress. Donna and Sandra knew me when I was an aspiring writer and was dating the man who would become Keeper. They arranged a night at a hotel for our wedding night, which had to suffice as our honeymoon.

They were there for the good, the bad and the ugly, including the day I blithely walked through the entire office with my dress tucked into the back of my pantyhose. It was Sandra who herded my into my office and gave me the news. She called me "Flash" for years.

When I tell this story now, it has a "you had to be there" quality to it. Sandra WAS there and when we mention it, she closes her eyes, shakes her head and says, "Mary, Mary" in that way she has.

When we decided to move to California, I kept it a secret until it was a sure thing. I had a job offer and we had booked the moving van by the time I told my friends. When I asked them to come into my office and close the door, they knew as soon as I said "I have something to tell you," that I was leaving. We all cried. They were genuinely happy for me. I had counted on that.

When I went back to visit, I took in all the changes. The offices had been remodeled, they had both received long-deserved promotions, and, truth be told, we all have some mileage on us now. But they still laugh with me about coming out of the ladies' room with my dress hiked up. You had to be there. And they were.