Page 93 - Philly Girl

Philly Girl 77

with a wine pairing.” “Stop,” I said…“no more wine.” Connie
was pissed.
This was 30 years into our friendship, but I had hit a
nerve that night. I always knew she had a temper, but it had
never been directed at me.
She had compromised as a child, living with an abusive
alcoholic father who loved his wife and children in spite of
his disease. She accommodated her husband by having a
full-time job when she really wanted to work part-time so
she could pick up her kids at school, pack their lunches, and
help with homework. She gave in when her husband wanted
to live all around the world, though she preferred to stay in
one place so that the family would have the stability that she
never had as a child. That night at the restaurant, she had
had it: no more accommodation! Her patience had run out.
The pleasant, amiable girlfriend I thought I knew showed me
her impatient and angrier self. But she was right; I had not
been paying attention, and I had blown it. I offered to pay
the $350-per-person bill. I expected her to accommodate to
my mistake, but she let me know she would not. How could
I have been so dumb? I apologized. “I made a mistake,” I
said. “I am so sorry. This will never happen again.”
Connie lost a beloved sister to cancer, and that left a hole
in her heart. But my world-traveling, story-telling friend is
still a fun person to hang out with and remains an emotional
open book.