The Call
Rapid knocking rang throughout the small house, followed by a young woman's voice. "Tara! Tara, I'm here, honey. Let me in." Kylie stood outside the front door in her day-to-day attire of t-shirt and jeans and waited a couple of moments, hoping her best friend would let her in. She knew that Tara wasn't feeling her best right now and she was determined to lift her spirits as best she could, but her normally brightly-lit face showed faint signs of exasperation as Tara took her time answering the door. Once again, Kylie reached out with her voice, seeking to penetrate the wooden barrier before her. "C'mon, Tara, please let me in. You can't just barricade yourself in like this, sweetie." Just as she raised her hand to rap on the door once more, it slowly opened.
"Shh, Kylie....you're announcing yourself to the whole neighborhood," Tara scolded her sluggishly. Her physical appearance as she let Tara in was certainly not a presentable one. With hair disheveled and eyes somewhat red, she looked in her baggy sleepwear the same as she felt: weary, sad, and hurt.
The door swung closed in a listless manner as Kylie embraced her, rubbing her back soothingly. "I came over as soon as I hung up the phone."
Tara sniffed as she hugged back, though not as strongly as it was received. "I don't know why. I'm not exactly the best company right now."
"How could I just leave you here all by yourself when Paul's slapping you with a divorce?" Kylie followed Tara to the couch and watched her as she plopped down on it, covering herself with a blanket. It was evident that Tara was having a hard time coping with the inevitable end of her marriage. The coffee table in front of the couch was littered with soda cans and used, tear-stained tissues. Kylie looked around, surveying the damage manifested in physical form, then returned her gaze to Tara. She sat on the edge of the furniture and reached for her, stroking her hair affectionately, comfortingly. "We've been best friends since middle school. There's no way I would abandon you when this is the time you need someone the most."
Tara managed a small smile, her gratitude to Kylie deeply felt yet difficult at the moment to convey. "As uncertain as life may be, I always know I can count on you, girl." She raised her hand up and wrapped her fingers gently around Kylie's wrist, giving a light squeeze to indicate that she means every word and is ever so grateful to her. Then, a deep sigh escaped her. "Hell of a birthday present, isn't it? 'Tara, I know this is bad timing, but I want a divorce. And, oh, happy birthday!'," she mimicked her soon-to-be ex with bitter sarcasm. "Talk about tactful."
Kylie pulled back her hand to give it a discarding wave. "Fuck 'im. Well, not literally, of course." She grinned a bit as she attempted to get Tara to smile more. When she succeeded, her own grin widened. "If Paul's gonna be like that, especially on your birthday, then he's not worth your time or energy, not to mention your love. I know that you loved him, honey....perhaps you still do....but he's the asshole here. He's the loser. Just keep that in mind whenever you feel you're getting down again, ok?"
Tara replied with a gentle nod. Though it was difficult, despite the divorce request, to not love her soon-to-be ex-husband after being with him for so long, Kylie's loving assurance was infusing her with strength as well as the confident knowledge that she wasn't the one at fault. Over the course of the past five months, Paul indulged himself in a passionate affair with his newly-hired receptionist. During that time, arguments between Tara and he would erupt over even the most trivial matters at least three times a week. She knew of his affair, yet she was determined to make the marriage work. After all, she loved him and vowed to be by his side through thick and thin. Time after time, she tried to get him to talk to her, to tell her the truth of why he was straying. Was it her? Was she not attractive enough, thin enough, pretty enough? Was she not good in bed? Did she not put out as much as he wanted? Even when he gave her vague answers, she offered that they see a marriage counselor. Yet all of her attempts to keep them together failed. His phone call to her from work not ten minutes ago was the slap in the face that brought her to the reality that she was losing her husband.
Kylie slapped her thighs with her hands in the way people do when they've come to a decision and she looked to her emotionally-wounded friend with determination. "Alright, girl, I'm gonna take care of this right now. You and I are going out."
Tara began shaking her head in protest. "No, Kylie, I'm not up to it."
"Oh, bullshit, Tara. I refuse to let you lie here and wallow in crumpled tissues, flat soda, and cartoons that scare four-year-olds. Now, c'mon." She knew that Tara had to cope with and adjust to what was to come, but she also knew that she couldn't let the situation drag her best friend down. In no way would Kylie let her fall into an abyss of sadness or wrongful guilt. She just had to help her see the silver lining, to help her realize that her life wasn't over along with her marriage. All the while she spoke, she had Tara's hand and arm in her grasp and slowly pulling, trying to get her off of the couch.
Tara pulled back gently, grunting lightly and pouting. "Kylie, leave me to my misery, will ya?"
Kylie released her, but her gaze and tone of voice held no submission to Tara's request. "Hell no! Staying here and cryin' until your eyes fall out isn't gonna help you. What you need to do is to get out, have a good time, and realize that you're ridding yourself of a man that doesn't deserve ya. And you're not gonna have all the fun alone, missy, 'cuz I'm comin' with you. C'mon, girl, let's go out, have some drinks, get busy on the dance floor, and have some wild, freaky, much-needed fun!" To show her she meant business, Kylie took hold of the blanket and snatched it off of Tara's body, letting it fall to the floor.
With a loud sigh of resignation, she pulled herself up and off of the sofa. "Alright," Tara gave in, "alright. Just give me enough time to get ready, drill sergeant." She couldn't help but cast her best friend a grin as she heard Kylie directly behind her, imitating the stereotypical military demand that one hears in movies.
"Move it, move it, move it!"
Laughter from both women ensued as Tara headed for a quick shower and a change into more outgoing attire while Kylie also changed in the bedroom, borrowing some of her best friend's equally snazzy party clothes.
A Good Time