That Woman

“Garance, I’m sorry, but your friend is a snob. I saw her the other day, and she barely said hi to me—she pretended she didn’t remember me!”

I paused. Is that really what she was?

—

She was striking. Not your classic definition of beauty, but there was something in the way she moved that set her apart. Something about her felt sharp, awake, cutting even. 

I remembered the day I had met her. Something had felt so intentional about how she pulled a chair and sat next to me at dinner.

I immediately felt challenged. This was not going to be a conversation about the weather. A part of me that is often dormant woke up, and I had a great evening. We exchanged numbers.

When I met her, she was going through a difficult time. There had been career mishaps, the sour smell of a divorce, and a child she was now finding herself essentially alone with. She was downsizing apartments, she was looking for a project, and really she said, she needed money. 

She had almost nothing, and yet her life looked fabulo…