WREN

From behind sunglasses and a strawberry-banana smoothie I ask my best friend, “Eleanor, seriously, how do you do it all on your own?”

It’s a bright, cloudless Thursday morning and we’ve come to Cascade Springs park for some fresh air. Her children weren’t feeling well, so she let them stay out of school. But Eleanor doesn’t believe in bed for healing. She believes in nature. Surrounded by gold and amber leaves that will soon fall, low hills as their backdrops, we’re relaxing by a trickling stream so the kids can poke at turtles and laugh themselves back to health.

We’ve warned them to be kind to the slow-moving creatures. Innocent eyes said they would be, and El confirmed they wouldn’t hurt a fly. Just annoy it a little.

Also in shades, my friend pauses sucking on her blackberry and chocolate protein-powder shake to answer me, simply saying with a shrug, “I’m tired all the time.” The straw slides back into her mouth as if that’s the end of conversation. Clipped and to the point. The end.

Laughing I balance myself better on the boulder and say, “Oh come on, you’re in a good mood every time I see you. How come? I mean, you didn’t plan on raising Antoine and Tia on your own and that’s pretty much what you’re doing. He has them every other weekend but…”

“And he covers some of the cost. Enough to keep me from drowning and able to buy one of these delicious num nums once in a while as a treat.” She holds up her plastic cup before nursing it some more, eyes floating to her children as they edge near extremely shallow water like it’s an oceanic depth that might swallow them. “I’m happier without him.”

“Clearly.”

Eleanor glances to me and lowers her cup onto the boulder she’s sitting on. “I wasn’t happy when I was with him. I mean, I was happy to be in a relationship because I thought that’s what I was supposed to do.”

I mutter, “That’s what they teach us,” sucking down the last of my drink.

“I got out of high school and my thoughts were get married, have kids. So I did that. Met him in college, had these two adorable little brats who drive me insane, and then I would wake up and think, okay, there’s someone here. But I don’t like him very much. He was okay. Pretty sexy. Not mean to me. I wasn’t excited to hear him talk. I think it’s so important to like talking with someone. Like you and me, I love talking with you. I can tell you things like this and you’re listening. And when you talk I like to listen. I look forward to our conversations. You’re my tribe, you know?”

“Aww, thanks. Should we go gay now?”

“I wish,” she grins. “Make it so much easier.”

A red dragonfly flits by us as I admit, “I don’t think being gay is easy.”

Thinking about it, Eleanor agrees, “No, it isn’t. I have some gay friends who get treated badly all the time. They fight back but it’s not easy.”

“Why don’t we all just let people be who they are?”

“You and I do.”

“True.”

“That’s a start.” Adjusting her sunglasses she continues, “Anyway, now that he’s gone, it’s just me, and that’s an improvement. Me and the kids living how we want to live. I work hard to pay bills—since they’re in school I can. And now that Carla hired a new girl to cover me every other weekend, I don’t miss out on any time with them. Work when they’re gone, home when they are. And if something comes up and I need to take on more shifts, I’ve got the other moms.”

“The ones you’ve teamed up with.”

“To split babysitting duties, yep.” Her gaze drifts to the kids and she smiles at their laughter, saying wistfully, “More hands, lighter load. The ex can do what he wants. I want to wait for someone I love talking with.” Glancing to me, she adds in a sly whisper, “And who I love fucking.” Losing the grin, Eleanor asks in a leading way, “What about you and Peter?”

“We go through waves.”

“I don’t like the crap he’s been pulling.”

I was asking how she’s always happy because I feel the opposite. A depression has formed around me over the last month. Too tired of it all I blankly say, “He was amazing last night.”

Lowering her voice, she leans in like I’ve got sexy details to share. “Tell me all the dirty stuff and I’ll tell you about Dion.”

I correct her, “No, he and his band were amazing. I went and saw them play. We all went out to eat after at this all-night diner in Flat Shoals, and it was fun. Reminded me of when I was with the girls.”

“Oh, you never told me how they were at the Unicorn, the show Ginny invited you to!”

Sucking my lips in I shake my head, and pick a yellow leaf off my boulder. “Couldn’t go, El.”

“Too busy or…couldn’t.” At my silence, she nods. “Must be hard.”

“It kills me.” Exhaling I force a smile. “That’s why it was good being there for Peter. No pressure for me, but still around music, what I love, you know?”

“Yeah,” she gently smiles like she doesn’t want to pour salt on my wound. She knows all about my stage fright and my broken dream. “You still play your guitar?”

Flinging the leaf I watch it spin on the breeze and float away. “To help me write the songs, yeah. I work out the melodies on it. Not as much lately. Haven’t had a lot of energy.”

“How was Peter after?”

“After what?”

She lowers her sunglasses, looking over their tops, wiggling her eyebrows. “At his place, your place, you know…after.”

“He had to open the shop today so we didn’t stay the night together.”

The light vanishes from her. “Wren.”

“What?”

“I don’t like the frown. Take off your sunglasses.”

“It’s bright out.”

“Off!”

Doing as I’m told I hold them, and my gaze, on the boulder. “What?”

“Girl, look at me.”

Why is it so difficult to do that? My eyelids weigh twenty pounds each. “I don’t feel good.”

She jumps from her boulder to mine and touches my hand. The kindness gives me the strength to face her. “Wren, where have you gone?”

“…I don’t know. I feel lost.”

“I’m going to give it to you straight because you’re in it and you can’t see. We’ve all done it. We hang our hopes on some dude right from the beginning because he seems like he might be it. And when things get shitty we don’t let go.”

“That’s not what’s happening.”

“Isn’t it?”

Staring at her I get really quiet on the inside as the sunlight seems to fade around us, oxygen leaving with it. “I thought Peter was a nice guy and that was a shift for me, you know, in the right direction. I usually fall for the bad boy type.”

“But is Peter a nice guy?”

Thinking about it, I’m reticent. “Yes?”

“Has he been nice to you?”

“He’s a nice guy in general.”

“Is he nice to you?”

“He’s not bad to me,” I lamely offer.

El waves her hand, “Oh honey, you fell prey to a manipulating wimp who got you around his pinky, a girl out of his league to boost his puny ego and his puny dick, and now he’s stringing you along so he can feel like he’s the shit.”

I stare at her, stomach flipping over. “That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?”