I close my eyes. She’s right; that’s totally how it looks. But it’s not true.

“I hear what you’re saying,” I say and suddenly it’s desperately important that Debbi believes me. “But that’s not how it is at all. I guess I was just doing a, like cheshbon hanefesh, when I wrote Shan a goodbye letter.  And I realized I owed you an apology.  And when I was writing those, I realized that….” My voice trails off, suddenly shy, but Debbi’s still sitting there, looking at me.

I clear my throat. “I realized that I missed you.  And that I wanted you to give me another chance.”

And now it’s Debbi’s turn to drop her eyes, to reach for the orange juice pitcher nervously.

“Naomi. You hurt me. More than I wanted to admit. I felt thrown away. Like I was last year’s news. Or shoes.”

We both smile at this. We share a passion for new shoes.

“But mostly, I felt cheated. Like Shan had gotten the real you and I just had the surface version.”

I think about this. I get up to make myself another bowl. Debbi declines my offer for oatmeal.

“Debbi. I think we’re both being too hard on ourselves,” I say at long last. “We’ve been friends since we’re kids. So our friendship has stagnated at an immature level. Shan and I became friends as 17-year-olds, with everything that comes along with. And there’s so much that new friends don’t have. We didn’t share history or family or memories. And that was actually nice, to introduce yourself as you want to, brand-new and fresh. But when it comes down to it, Debs…”

I blow on my oatmeal, shy. “There’s really nothing like an old friend.”

And then I take a spoonful and totally burn my tongue.

***

Shan is leaving for the airport at three and my driving test is at four. Ma says we can stop to say goodbye. Between that and my nerves, I feel like I’m going to throw up.

Ma honks lightly, and Shan runs out, ponytail flying, coat zipped. I don’t think I’ve seen Shan wear a coat the entire time she was in Toms River. I take this as a good sign.

I jump out of the car, and we hug until Ma honks again.

“Goodbye, you crazy kid,” I say, pulling her ponytail.

“Bye, Nomes,” she says softly. “Thanks for everything.”

I hand her the card I’d written, and she hands me a gift bag.

Clutching it in sweaty hands, I head back to the car.  “Daven for my driving test!” I squeak.

She cracks up. “I’ll daven for the pedestrians on the road, how about that?”

I stick out my tongue, blow one last kiss, and we are off.

Murmuring all the Tehillim I know by heart, I lean my head against the windowsill.

I’m really going to miss Shan. But in a way, I think I always knew this whole chapter with her would have an ending. It feels right.

Ma puts her hand on my knee. “I’m really proud of you,” she says.

I blink in surprise. “You are?”

Ma laughs. “Yes! I am.”

If only to take my mind off the driving test, I look at her. “In a totally-not-fishing-for-compliments way:  Why?”

Ma stops at a red light and looks at me. “Because this entire time, you sought to do the right thing. You were conflicted. You asked. You searched for answers. And maybe that’s why Hashem ended up making the decision for you. Haba litaher misayin oso, in a way.”

I think about this. I definitely had been conflicted. I think of all the tears I’d cried, the bridges burned, the trouble I’d gotten into. And then I think how Hashem had sent a neat solution in the shape of Shan’s mom. I wonder if she even realized how perfectly it had all worked out.

“Thanks, Ma,” I say. It’s not a lot, but I know Ma understands.

There’s more to say, but right now…

“Here!” Ma announces.

Ohhhh, I’m going to throw up.

I wave at Ma weakly and jump out of the car.

And then somehow, even though I don’t remember walking, I’m standing outside the test car, ready to get in.

To be continued…

(Originally featured in Treeo, Issue 994)