Kara and Jessie were friends since 3rd grade; having known each other since the tender age of 8 -- which could explain how Kara could overlook some of Jessie's clearly crazy tendencies. Like the fact that Jessie couldn't leave the house without listening to, and singing at the top of her lungs, the song "I Will Survive" by Gloria Gainer, because she felt it ensured a positive night out -- especially in the immediate months after her husband left her for a "friend from the gym" (that Kara swears was a man, but was never given the 100% assurance).
So this betrayal not only produced some silly habits like the need for the 'I Will Survive' anthem, but it also caused Jessie to doubt and question everyone in her life. Everyone, that is, except her best and most beloved and trusted friend, Jessie, whom she had cried on, drank with, and was bolstered up by during those long, emotional months-- finally enough to hit the dating scene.
Though Jessie lived in San Francisco, and Kara in Beacon Hill, their friendship had remained as solid as if they still lived on the same street, like they had for 22 years in Swampscott, Mass. Upon hearing the news of Kara's husband's cheating, she dropped everything and flew out to spend the weekend with her broken-hearted friend. And she had made the trip several times in the six months since then, treating her to shopping trips, spa days and lots of bottles of wine. Their friendship was the strongest it had ever been on this ladies' weekend, when they walked into Brady's.
But there was a third wheel. Another female. And I know from years of being a mother - okay, just being a semi-intelligent person - that the number "3" is not a good one for friends. Playdates among 3 5-year olds always end in tears, two boys always teaming up against the 3rd - forcing him to be the "monkey in the middle" or the one who's always "It," resulting in poor old #3 being hid from, pushed aside, or, if he's fortunate - just being ignored. There are only two video game chairs, not three. Two Wii controllers, not three (Though I am told I could easily buy one, two, or "a hundred more," Mom. Jeez. Yes, I clearly want these playdates to fail...) Only two favorite island stools, only two Transformer cups... blah blah blah.
And this unfair dynamic doesn't end in adolescence. No, there's always the "front seat" debate, leaving poor old #3 to ride behind the other two, straining her ear to hear the gossip over U2 cranking out of the back speakers. Though, you'd think, I, as a mother of three, not two, would be more sensitive to this stopgap to fairness. But, oh well - I also believe compromise and sharing builds character.
When there are three people, there's always one friend who hears the gossip second, gets called on the phone second, gets picked up second -- which, by all intents and purposes is 'last'. But as we get older, we mature and come to realize that being first is just a result of logistics, and not anything deeper in meaning or symbolics. Riiiiiiight. (Maybe in my perfectly conditioned family and among my similarly minded righteous friends... Maybe.)
Back to Kara, Jessie and Anna. So Kara and Jessie had about 20 years of friendship under their belts before poor #3 Anna even entered the scene. Anna had grown to be Jessie's best "adult" friend in the five years they had worked together at the same financial services firm. Some would argue that the chosen, adult friends have an even stronger bond than the childhood friends, despite the disparity in the number of years of each of these friendships.
People that we choose to become friends with later in our lives are not a result of proximity or shared softball practice schedules, but they are people that we truly appreciate and enjoy for who they are -- independent of their similarities to us. Often these friends have such different tastes and interests that they enrich each other's lives much more so than the Crazy, Jealous, Suspicious Friend that we really do love, but mostly because we have known Crazy-Jealous-Suspicious since we were both in diapers.
This longer term friend, however, gets all the benefit of your doubts, because you know exactly what horrible thing happened in 5th grade to her parents or just how close she was to a pregnancy scare in 11th grade, or whatnot. These friends, because of all your experiences together, can pretty much do no wrong to you.
But that doesn't mean that your newer, adult-acquired friend has any sort of empathy or appreciation for your other, crazy, childhood friend. Nope. Not for a long shot...
And this is what was becoming apparent to me during the women's 3-hour stay at Brady's. Jessie and Anna would fill me in on their thoughts and histories whenever Kara would excuse herself to go to the ladies' room, or step outside to call her newest "boyfriend." Jessie explained the background to me, the bartender she had decided was worthy of all this friendship baggage at the onset when I suggested for them a small production gruner veltliner they might like, knowing she lived in Wine Country. We also seemed about the same age, amount of fun and personality, they told me - so we hit it off, enabling me to get the full picture of their unique friendships.
Jessie wanted Kara and Anna to be best friends, just like she and Kara were, and she and Anna were. She had been trying the last few visits home to force these two extremely different women to become close, making for Jessie, the perfect group. This may have been a little selfishness on Jessie's part, wanting to reduce her duties during her short weekend trips. If both her best friends were best friends too, then she wouldn't have to spend time shuttling between Boston, Swampscott and the South Shore each time she visited. But mostly, she just thought it would be fun and enjoyable if they all got along. If only...
Queue the bottles of wine.
