We listened to music, mused over many a J. Crew, Tweeds and J. Jill catalog, frequented record shops, attended more concerts than I can count, and watched countless episodes of Twin Peaks and the X-Files over bowls of Breyers Vanilla Fudge Twirl ice cream. I went with her family to Cape May for vacation and she came to Florida with my family where we would take turns reading chapters of mystery novels to each other before going to bed. We were pros at double-dating. And, thankfully, our dates always got along (as far as we knew). We dyed our hair together, hers black, mine red. We even made up our own short hand so we could take school notes faster and pass notes more discretely.
We may sound like we could've been trouble-makers, but we weren't. Both Christians, we may have walked the edge sometimes, but together we were stronger and stood our ground among friends who didn't always. There was safety in the pair.
We laughed a lot. I specifically remember a time at a Dairy Queen when I slipped on a wet floor and landed hard on my bum. Laura and the two boys we were with fell into open booths laughing their heads off. I can't quite remember if they checked to see if I was okay first or not but I was, so I was soon in tears with them. I can picture her laughing that night as clear as day and remember laughing along with her, the tears spilling over, oh so, often.
I can't remember ever really arguing over anything.
We went our separate ways after high school and have lead pretty different lives since. She's an interior designer in Manhattan and me, well. You all know about me. In spite of the paths our lives have taken, I will always be connected deeply to my Laura. I feel so privileged to know her and to have shared so many formative years with her by my side. Watching her get married this past weekend surrounded by all of her friends and family was such a joy.
Laura, I thank God for you and I thank you for taking me on as your best friend all those years ago.