Girlfriends

Philadelphia

Last night was a cool oasis from the disappointments of this summer.

I got a call from an old and dear friend. Maureen and I have known each other for 8 years or so. We don't see each other often because I'm in New York and she's here in Philadelphia. Plus, she is a physician, the clinical director of a very busy women's health medical practice that specializes in fertility. She isn't one to plan a dinner in advance. It seems to work better when the universe converges and we get together spontaneously.
Her email read:
Congratulations on the baby.
Dinner tonight? 6:30?
Wayne Hotel porch?
Let me know.

The Wayne Hotel is a big ol' Victorian Hotel on the main street in suburban, affluent Wayne, Pa. It's best feature is the wrap around porch where dinner is served from May through September. At the risk of sounding like I'm their marketing consultant, it's one of the best places on the Main Line--and the most continental in cuisine and attitude.

I got there early and went to the porch.
"I'm sorry, madam, we aren't serving on the porch tonight because of the heat."
My first instinct was to challenge the maitre 'd. But I stopped short, tried to remember the value of a good imagination for alternatives.
"Well, would you hold a table for me in here? I'll get a drink at the bar and take it outside for a bit.. Then when my friend arrives, we'll come in and have dinner at our table."
The maitre 'd persisted. "Madam, we cannot hold a table for you. There are no reservations in this bar/bistro area."
Now I'm working hard to find a solution.
I smiled widely, and looked him in the eye. "Well, this is my thinking. I'll take that table now. I'll order a bottle of wine. When it arrives, I'll leave my things at my table and slip outside for a quick drink before dinner."
He glances at me, then looks toward the floor, shifting from foot to foot. "I think that will work, Madam." Then he grins.

So far so good. Maureen met me out there a bit later and brought her wine out.

We finished a whole bottle of LaTour Chablis that the lovely sommelier, a favorite of mine from Britanny, recommended. We had a great meal, served by Melanie, a junior at Boston College who had the good sense to leave us alone to catch up on at least a year full of events--her daughter, her practice, her travel, my kids, Ethan and Grammie Time, the newborn, my writing, New York, new friends. At one point, I laughed so loud the people at the next table turned disapprovingly. It didn't move me, though.

This is girlfriend stuff. This is as good as it gets. We finished the whole bottle of wine. Asked Silvey, the somellier to find us another great wine, this time by the glass. He let us sample three, and make our choice. He was spoiling us but having fun, too. I think we were contagious last night. And I needed a good laugh.

At one point, we were talking about some heartaches in the past year or so that had happened to each of us. Tears welled up in my eyes as I talked. She listened, commented, empathized. I did the same as I listened to her recount a tough situation.

It may be another year before we connect again. But last night was a testament to two things: 1. The days that make us happy make us wise. (Translation: hold on to the good times! ); 2. God Bless Martin. He was right again.

M.C.