Swing - Part Two

“Open it!” the women chorused.

Emma was one of those women who unwrap gifts carefully, as though they’ll be keeping the wrapping paper. She didn’t ever keep it, but she liked to ensure that the paper was still pretty before she threw it away. It was just another thing that drove her husband crazy.

She knew before she opened it that it was a bracelet identical to Lana’s. “I love it!” she exclaimed automatically. She did like Lana’s bracelet. On Lana. But leave it to Lana to be the only one who remembered Emma’s birthday. Lana was good people, good way down deep. Emma wished she, herself, was good at least halfway as deep.

“It’s. Cute.” Jane declared, slightly derisively. The rest of the women reserved their verbal judgments and instead made approving clucking sounds. Appropriately noncommittal, as they tended to be when Jane had ruled on a subject.

The “happy birthday” choir began and Emma beamed her thanks. She knew these women meant well, but they, perhaps with the exception of Lana, did not really care what happened to her. They were superficial friends. They said the things they thought they should and some of the things they knew they shouldn’t.

Emma allowed her mind to drift back to college. College was when her friends were really her friends. They were always in for the pound. She smiled to herself, remembering the time she’d given herself a black eye bouncing off a friend when she’d tried to pig pile her. She stifled a giggle and hoped the other women wouldn’t notice her merriment.

Talk drifted away from Emma toward the opinions of the wine and the state of everyone’s manicures. Emma began to feel claustrophobic.

“I’ll see you ladies next time!” Emma chirped, trying to sound more cheerful than she felt. It really wasn’t the ladies’ fault. It was more the atmosphere of the friendship they’d developed. They were all supremely insecure and sensitive about their looks. Instead of being supportive, their friendships had turned into a competition.

“Hey you don’t look that old!” Jane commented, apparently attempting a compliment.

Emma wondered when she had started to settle for friends like these.

Outside the restaurant the day had turned warmer. It was autumn in Minnesota, which presented its own conundrum figuring out what the weather would be each day. Emma tended to dress in layers to be prepared for the myriad of temps that could arise. She pulled off the light blue cardigan and enjoyed the feel of the sun on her bare arms.

She spied a park to her left and felt pulled toward it. Her mind played back a time in college when her girlfriends and her had played at a park and laughed hysterically without a malicious laugh in the bunch.

I need to live life better.

It was a thought that just popped into her head. She hadn’t realized that she had been surrounding herself with negative energy. Her husband and her had been talking about having a baby but none of the other women had any kids yet. A baby would mean a weight gain that couldn’t be denied. The other women would have to comment on her looks if she wasn’t a size 6 any longer.

Emma chose a swing closest to the slide. It was under the limb of an old oak tree that soared high into the sunlight. The limb curved over the swing set like the protective arm of a mother.

She sat on the swing and unconsciously began to pump her legs. What if she just did it? Tried to have a baby and made herself and her husband happy instead of worrying about what her friends thought?

Her legs whipping back and forth, the swing surged higher and higher until there was only one thing left to do. Jump.