Page 79 of All That Glitters
Veronica handed the phone back. “Okay, first of all, my plan was brilliant in theory. The execution was clearly flawed by unforeseen levels of male denseness, a variable I failed toaccount for. Second, eating your feelings is a time-honored tradition, and I will not have you maligning it.”
She stood up and walked over to the pile of mail on the kitchen counter. “But while you were out having your heart curb-stomped by a man with the emotional intelligence of a houseplant, this came for you.”
She pulled out a thick, official-looking envelope and waved it in the air. “Looks important.”
Debbie looked at it blankly before taking another aggressive bite of ice cream. On its front were stickers showing that it had already been forwarded twice to previous addresses. “It’s probably a student loan bill. Just add it to the funeral pyre of my life.”
“It doesn’t feel like a bill,” Veronica said, walking over and handing it to her. “It’s too fancy.”
With a world-weary sigh, Debbie set the ice cream tub on her lap and tore open the envelope. She pulled out a heavy piece of stationery and unfolded it. Her eyes scanned the first few lines, her spoon hovering mid-air.
“... pleased to inform you...”
“... exceptional qualifications...”
“... acceptance into the Parisian Arts & Culture Immersion Program...”
The spoon clattered back into the tub. “No way,” she whispered.
“What is it?” Veronica asked, unable to stand the suspense. “Did you win the lottery? Because if so, we are definitely upgrading our ice cream situation.”
“I… I got in,” Debbie breathed, the words feeling foreign in her mouth. “The study-abroad program. I got into the Paris program.”
Veronica’s face broke into a huge grin. “Deb! That’s amazing! Paris! Like, ‘eels and croissants and hot French guys on Vespas’ Paris? This is incredible! When did you apply?”
“It was like six months ago,” Debbie said, staring at the letter. “I never thought…”
Her voice trailed off. She looked from the letter to the phone sitting on the coffee table.
Veronica’s smile faded slightly as she saw the conflict warring on her friend’s face. “Deb, this is awesome news. Why do you look like you’re trying to choose between getting a root canal or a tax audit?”
“I don’t know,” Debbie said, her voice small. “I mean, it’s France. That’s a huge deal, right?”
“Exactly,” Veronica said. “Full stop right there.”
“But...” Debbie continued, “it’s a whole semester. Isn’t that like running away?”
“Or running to,” Veronica countered gently.
Debbie slumped back in her chair, the spoon still abandoned in the ice cream. “I don’t know. My brain feels like scrambled eggs.”
Veronica looked at her heartbroken, ice-cream-binging friend, who was holding this golden ticket like it was a grenade. This called for a drastic intervention.
“I know what will fix this,” Veronica said. She stood up and pulled Debbie to her feet. “Get your shoes on. We’re going out.”
“Out where? I’m in my pajamas and I’m emotionally compromised.”
“To the one place that has all the answers, plus carbs and grease,” Veronica said. “The one place where all of life’s problems can be solved, or at least, temporarily drowned in cheese and guacamole.”
The taco shop was a greasy, late-night hole-in-the-wall, just a stone’s throw from the beach. The salty night air mixed with the smell of fried tortillas and grilled carne asada. Debbie and Veronica sat at a rickety outdoor table under a string of festive, multi-colored bulbs, a platter of rolled tacos piled high with guacamole and shredded cheese between them. This was emotional eating at its best.
Debbie, still in her pajamas, dipped her rolled taco into the small plastic cup of hot sauce and took a bite. She decided her heartbreak didn’t stand a chance against this mountain of carbs and grease.
Veronica, on the other hand, was all business. She had snatched a stack of paper napkins from the counter and a pen from the tip jar.
“Okay,” Veronica said, clicking the pen. “Operation: Figure Out Your Life, Part Two - The Taco Summit is officially in session.” She drew a messy line down the middle of the top napkin. “Pros and cons. Let’s do this.”
Debbie sighed, staring at the napkin. “My life has been reduced to a napkin doodle.”
