It doesn’t take long to find Marion in the restaurant. Lee is not surprised at how much she looks the same. However, as she moves closer, it’s there, Marion’s overwhelming growth.
Still tiny, but fierce, Marion charges out of her seat when she spots Lee. At first, all her insecurities melt away in her friend’s embrace. Kindness and intent deep in her amber orbs, Marion doesn’t tear her gaze.
“Of course I’m late,” Lee is again nervous sitting down.
“I’m early,” Marion waves her off.
Another change. This air of light and freedom that sits across from her is unfamiliar. Not that Marion ever wore a permanent scowl, but she was focused.
“What sense do we have picking some new restaurant?”
“I’m serious, I could go for your dad’s chili, not hors d’oeuvres.”
She’d seen this moment in film. The unsure reunion between two long lost lovers or friends. The awkwardness, the need for the outside world to intervene.
“Did you hear about….its so cold out…this looks good.”
The script or screen time doesn’t allow for the true portrayal of such moment.
“How are you?”
Lee hates the question before she even asks. There was a time when she didn’t have to ask this, when she already knew.
The generic brand of bullshit slashes through Lee’s core. To be fair, she’d started it. It’s her fault, their distance, anyhow. Their fight for familiarity is humiliating. It was she that promised nothing would change.
When she can’t muster up anything to say, she can sense Marion’s disappointment. Lee can hear her stomach drop and she knows she not alone.
“What happened to us?” The question tumbles out of Marion’s mouth, softly.
Again she is rendered speechless because Lee doesn’t have an answer, just so many questions of her own.