I strolled from room to room while I waited. It was a vain attempt to put several years and a soured relationship behind me in time to enjoy a party originally intended to celebrate the same things I was now trying to forget.
Wandering aimlessly around the house, I found myself in the bedroom, staring up at a framed picture of me, dressed less than modestly. I had the photo taken as a gift for Brian on the second anniversary of our first date, a day that I later learned held no special meaning for him. I had anxiously waited all day for him to return from work, but when he finally did, he wasn’t alone. As often happened, he had brought colleagues home for dinner without remembering to call me in advance. I had told him earlier that day that I had a surprise for him in light of the special occasion and in front of his guests, he insisted on opening the package that leaned against the back of the couch. I did my best to discourage him without causing a scene, but as usual, Brian won.
I still recall the jolts of horror, shame and embarrassment that raced through my body when, upon viewing the photo, each of his friends offered commentary ranging from short whistles to lewd remarks disguised as compliments. That night, I felt like a door prize at an obnoxious-attorney convention. Brian thought I was over-reacting but his insensitivity in situations like that night was one of the hurdles we never did overcome. After many months of questioning my decision, suddenly, the straight line between the beginning and the end of our relationship became unmistakably clear.
The doorbell rang with the last chime of the grandfather clock. I shook off any remaining thoughts of Brian, forced my best party smile, picked up my umbrella and swung the front door open with zest.
“Ready and waiting—as promised.”
Cory gave Charlotte a satisfied grin and looked back to me, saying, “Let the fun begin,” as she motioned toward the black limo waiting at the curb.
As we climbed into the largest car I had ever seen, I was in awe of my surroundings.
“Oh my God, you could practically live in here.”
The seats were leather. Not the kind normally used for upholstery, but the kind of leather used to make expensive gloves or handbags. Smoked glass separated us from the driver, and a small bar equipped with a refrigerator sat between two spacious seats.
Cory offered a smile before lowering the window that separated us from the front half of the car, saying, “Stephen, would you take us to the airport, please?”
“Where are we going? Are we flying to the party?”
Charlotte said, “Uh uh, no clues. You’ve waited this long, what’s another half hour?” Hesitating briefly, she continued, “So... what’s up?”
I was fully aware of what she wanted to know, but didn’t want her to think that I was still thinking about Brian or today’s events.
“What do you mean?”
Cory broke in, “Meg. C’mon, are you swinging from the singles limb or are you still tied to the tree?”
They each looked to me in anticipation.
“It’s over. It wasn’t pretty but it could have been a lot uglier I guess. I’m okay with it, really.”
Cory balled her hands into little fists and murmured, “Yes.” Taking hold of my hands, she added, “Oh, Meg, you are so going to love this party.”
I couldn’t help but smile, my first genuine smile of the day.
The ride to the airport went by quickly. I gave Cory and Charlotte the condensed version of my goodbye with Brian and found myself growing eager for the party I had been dreading. I had made my decision and carried it out. Now it was time to move forward and I couldn’t think of a better place to start than a celebration in my honor.
Although a little early in the season for outdoor parties, this evening held promise for balmy temperatures and a cloud free sky. The sun was still shining when we arrived at the SaSalle airport. One by one, we stepped out of the limo onto the pavement of the airstrip.
Twelve white gazebos, strung with lights and flower vines dotted the grass to the left of the airstrip. The gazebos were set up in a large circle, each housing a table and eight chairs. There was a large four-sided bar with stools on every side in the center of the gazebo formation.
“Don’t get too worked up, there’s more.” Taking hold of my arm, Cory said, “C’mon.”
I questioned Charlotte with my eyes, but all she offered in return was a wink and a smile, as they led me to one of the hangers.
My heart was racing in anticipation of what Cory and Charlotte had planned. Eagerness and nervousness juxtaposed when Cory pulled on the handle of the hanger door and it slowly began to slide open.
As sunlight filled the inside of the hanger, I heard the word ‘surprise’ echo throughout the enormous, steel building. Looking around I saw some of my closest friends, many women I hadn’t seen in ages and some faces I couldn’t recall ever seeing before. I didn’t think I knew as many people as Cory had managed to get together for this night.