(40) Finding a Friend

“Here’s your change ma’am, have a nice evening!” I flash my last customer a bright smile as I hand her her bag and then glance at the miniature clock next to the cash register. Finally, it reads six o’three and I quickly rip off my tag and toss it into a nearby drawer before any more people snake around the counter and I have to stay a couple minutes later. Before I can escape though, the phone rings.

“Thanks for calling Cosette’s, this is Daria, how can I help you?” I say cheerfully. It’s been only a month since I first got this job at the request of my dearly beloved parents, and now every part of it has just become automatic, just another part of the routine. “Hi, Daria.” I instantly recognize this voice and it isn’t any customer’s.

“Mom, I was just leaving.” I twist the cord of the phone around my fingers.

“I’m glad I caught you then, dear. You need to pick up Heather on the way home, she’s spending the night at our house tonight.” My eyes bulge. I feel like I’ve been slapped in the face. A whole night with HEATHER?! I stare outside the glass doors as people pass by in the last few hours of sunlight.

“But Mom I…”

“Listen, Daria, I know you and Heather aren’t the best of friends, but her parents just asked me if she could stay with us on an account of a family emergency, so you’re going to have to try extra hard tonight to get along with her.”

I sigh, fully understanding that there’s no way that I am going to be victorious in this battle. “Fine, I’ll be home in like half an hour then.” I hang up the phone angrily and start slumping towards the back office where I punch out as an employee and walk towards my car. As I pull out of the parking lot, I dread the next twelve hours. Heather and I haven’t exactly hit it off as best buddies since she moved here from Florida. The way she twists my words, talks about me behind my back, and gets all the people I have been friends with since elementary school to suddenly turn on me doesn’t make me jump at the chance to be nice to her. The horrifying event that both of our mothers served on the PTA together this past year and have become close friends just makes everything worse. Visions of family barbeques still haunt my mind where I have had to endure a little more of Heather Stone than I can stand. I have had more than my share of witnessing her constant need for attention resulting in obnoxious outbursts, her selfish desires to have my best friends all to herself, and the several times she’s had all three of my guy friends gawking at her. I’ve given up on Jeff Waters completely now, because even though I boldly told him how I felt about him, he consequently doesn’t know I’m alive. With Heather always flouncing around me, who would?
Several minutes later I reach their house. The white one with the light blue shutters and perfect rows of geraniums leading up to the front door. I climb up the steps and lean my body on her doorbell. I hear shuffling near the hallway and stand impatiently as she opens the door slowly. Neither one of us smiles as I follow her into the kitchen. The last rays of the evening’s sunlight stream through the windows bathing the whole room in comforting light. I flounce myself onto a stool in front of the light marble counter and watch the girl in front of me with disgust. I realize though in contrast to her mother’s cheerful kitchen, she looks unmistakably gloomy. She slowly drops a pillow next to her light blue duffel bag.

“What’s with you?” I ask picking up a large metal spoon and eying my round reflection on its surface. There’s silence for a few seconds and as I glance up I see her shoving her hand around her eyes as she stares at the ridges in the wood floor. I squint my eyes at her carefully. It isn’t like Heather not to be so perky and cheerful. “Seriously, Heather, what’s wrong?” I
ask her more gently.

“It’s nothing,” she sniffs as she collapses on top of her bag. She tries to catch some tears beading up in front of her large brown eyes, but fails as they come crashing down her cheeks and make stains on her knees. She looks up at me forlornly and knows that I don’t believe her. She looks down at her hands and twists them together in the lap of her kaki shorts. “My sister has been in some sort of accident. She’s in a coma right now, I mean, she’s going to be okay, but my parents had to go with her and she was airlifted to…” She loses control and begins quietly sobbing. I stare at her, not believing that her sister Erica a perfect miniature of Heather is lying unconscious right now in a hospital bed. I watch more drops roll of Heather’s cheeks and make tiny pools on the floor. I watch her helplessly, not knowing exactly what to do. A best friend would hug her fiercely and tell her everything’s going to be all right, but Heather and I haven’t ever been like that, we’ve hated each other since day one

“Heather, I’m sorry.” I murmur, not sure what to say or do, but knowing the importance of putting any grudges aside for this night, for this moment. I sit down next to her on top of her sleeping bag and put my arm around her slowly.

“I’m fine, really.” She smiles weakly. “I’m really sorry I have to ruin your evening, Daria. My parents were the ones who…”

“Heather, it’s fine, really. Here, I’ll grab your stuff.” Slinging her bag over my shoulder and stuffing her pillow under my arm I walk with her to the driveway. The house is quiet, and almost eerie as we shut the door.

About two hours later, we’re sprawled on the couch in our cotton pajamas with a discarded pizza box open on the coffee table. My mother had thought to rent a movie, and had picked Meet the Parents, a movie Heather and I have both seen almost three times. We still lie in the living room on my green checkered couch laughing hysterically at scenes we’ve practically memorized. I glance at her face glowing with happiness from time to time, understanding that this is what she needs most tonight. She looks back at me, realizing I’m watching her. “Let’s get some ice cream.” I suggest hopping up. We skid in our socks toward the freezer and grab a carton of Neapolitan. I grab bowls from the cabinet as Heather finds the best toppings.

“Oooooh, whip cream!” I squeal and immediately grab the can and spray a large puff into my mouth. I look over at Heather slyly, “Here, want some.” I tip back the can and suddenly a huge pile of white foam forms on her whole face.” We both laugh hysterically as she licks her tongue around the edges of her lips. Then she grabs the can and fires some at me so that it hangs off my nose.

“Daria,” she giggles uncontrollably, “we’re going to miss the best part of the movie.”

“We can always rewind it, smart one.” I reply smearing off the last bit of whipped cream with the back of my hand and then start to scoop some vanilla and chocolate ice cream into each bowl. She grabs the chocolate sauce and starts oozing streams of it across my creation. “I wonder if we have nuts.” I wander around the kitchen searching for peanuts to top our masterpieces. Just then I spot something equally as delicious posed on the glass container next to the toaster. “Wow, my mom made a cake!”

“She did?” Heather glances over at me.

“I wonder why she did that.” I reply shutting the door to the pantry.

“Maybe it’s because it’s my birthday tomorrow. I guess I’ll have to bring it with me to the hospital.” Heather licks some chocolate sauce off her finger.

I stare at Heather with open respect. After all this, tomorrow is Heather’s sixteenth birthday! I can’t believe what I’ve just heard. “What a way to spend your birthday” I think to myself. “No party, no presents, just a sister lying near death in a hospital bed.”

“Is our ice cream ready then?” Heather asks me as she picks up her bowl.

“Yeah.” I grab mine and numbly walk next to her back to the living room. As we snuggle back into our sleeping bags with our sundaes placed in our laps I think of how wrong I have been and how easily it is to misjudge others I had always considered Heather to be one of the most selfish, fake, annoying girls I have ever known. Now though, I realize that Heather has strength and selflessness beyond anything I have ever known.

“Daria?” I glance up at her next to me.

“Thanks for being here for me tonight. I know we haven’t had the best past, but I really appreciate how kind you are being to me tonight.

“No, Heather,” I sigh. “I’m the one who should apologize. I didn’t really give you a chance when you first moved here. I guess I just wasn’t used to having someone new enter my circle of friends.” I look at her and we share a smile, one of understanding and peace.

“It’s hard moving and making new friends.” She murmurs. “I guess I just didn’t know exactly how to act and be myself.”
“I understand.” I reply and look back at the screen. “Maybe,” I think to myself, “the past hasn’t been all that good, but I know the future is going to be better.” Digging my spoon into my ice cream I take a large bite, enjoying the taste not only of this perfectly created sundae, but also the feeling of finding a friend in someone I never thought was possible.