The weekend arrived. In keeping with our usual pattern, we were due to meet up with our good friends, at their house this time since they were over at ours the previous weekend, during which the big shakeup had taken place.
Eli had called Thursday, after getting back from his tour of duty at the university, and begged off tennis since he had some things to catch up on, but asked if we were still on for the weekend. I told him we were planning on it.
"How's it going?" he asked, probably curious how we were adopting to the new dynamics, for which he was largely responsible.
"Pretty good," I replied, noncommittally. I was not used to feeling awkward talking to my best friend. "I'm sure we'll have some things to talk about Saturday."
Driving over there around dinnertime, Lila seemed pensive. I asked her if she was okay. She nodded, lips tight. Seasonal change was in the air and she was dressed in tight jeans with a white sweater, which provided a contrast to her long, dark hair. As always, she looked stunningly beautiful.
"Hi, you're just in time for the first course," Rachel exclaimed with a wide smile, opening the door for us. She also looked fine, in a frilly blouse and what my mother called "pedal pushers," which showed her shapely calves and ankles. The dining room table was set and Eli was ladling out soup into bowls. A good red wine was already in the glasses.
As we sat down, Eli and Lila's eyes met. He looked at her appreciatively and with ease, as one would toward a recent lover. She smiled, not warmly but not cool either. When Eli looked at me, I felt he was less comfortable, trying to divine my thoughts. The three of us had not uttered a word.
Rachel, in contrast, was her usual ebullient self. She had hugged Lila when we came in the door, put her arm on my shoulder and steered us toward our seats. She began chatting about her gardening and other commonplace themes as if this day was no different from any in the past. Actually, maybe she was chatting too much. Was this her way of covering up nerves?
Eli raised his glass, and made a toast.
"They say that friends cannot also be lovers, that it's a dangerous mix. However, it is also said that a relationship is stronger when you're best friends first and a couple second. Of course, that was meant to apply to just one traditional relationship. When we involve more than one friend and two couples in the mix, it may change the dynamics, but challenges are what make life interesting and overcoming them is what makes life meaningful. Here's to both love and friendship."
"That is absolutely beautiful," Lila said. I was also impressed. Rachel smiled.
"Did you compose that?" Lila asked.
Eli nodded. "But I did have a backup in case it fell flat: 'Love is the answer, but while you're waiting for the answer, sex raises some pretty good questions.' That's by Woody Allen."
We all laughed. That was the Eli we knew.
"Too many words. Soup's getting cold," Rachel said.
The soup was followed by one of Rachel's delicious vegetarian meals, washed down with more wine. Conversation flowed more easily, a cornucopia of good cheer. We were all still friends. Following dessert, Eli suggested, "Why don't the ladies retire to the drawing room for cigars while this schmuck and I tackle the dishes?"
Lila and Rachel seated themselves on the small couch and were soon smiling and laughing over something. Eli washed dishes while I dried. We talked about major prospects in the U.S. Open at Flushing Meadows and some local political issues before a lapse in conversation.
"That really was a nice toast," I told him.
"I'm glad you're not pissed at me," he replied.
"Who says I'm not," I responded. He looked serious for a moment before I smiled and added, "No, I'm not pissed. You gave me fair warning you were going to poach. I have only myself to blame for being so overconfident -- I thought my serve was strong and my partner could handle your best shot."
"Well, it's still early in the match," he said. "and you and I never worried too much about score. If it's close and the points well-played, we both win, or it may be more correct to say we all win since we're really playing doubles. Hey, maybe we should get them out on the court with us tomorrow."
"Sounds good to me," I said, as a pungent aroma drifted over from where Lila and Rachel were sitting. They had lit a pipe. We finished the dishes and went over to join them. I sat down between the girls while Eli put on some music. When he came back, we all moved to make room for him. Rachel was on one end of the couch, then me, Lila and Eli on the other end. It was a tight fit, but made it easy to pass the pipe containing the remainder of what Lila had brought back from California.
It did not take long for the conversation to become punctuated with silly remarks and broken trains of thought, resulting in amused laughter. We did manage to firm up the doubles match for the next afternoon, and then went on to other subjects. At one point, while I recounted some incident at work that was nowhere near as funny then as it now seemed, I noticed that Eli's palm was resting on Lila's thigh and Rachel's arm was around my shoulder. Lila's head was resting on the back of the couch, her feet elevated on the coffee table in front of it. She spoke.
