Something Borrowed - Emily Giffin [100]
"Sort of. He has a nice smile. But remember how he spit all over you when he talked?"
"Yeah. Good point."
Darcy flips the pages until she finally grows tired of it, casts it aside, and resumes control of the remote. She finds When Harry Met Sally and squeals. "It's just starting! Yes!"
We both recline on my couch, feet to head, and watch the movie we have seen together countless times. Darcy talks out loud constantly, quoting the parts she knows. I don't shush her once. Because even though she says talking during movies irritates Dex, I don't mind. Not even when she gets the line slightly wrong, so that I can't tell what Meg Ryan is really saying. It's just Darcy. This is what she does.
And like a favorite old movie, sometimes the sameness in a friend is what you like the most about her.
* * *
The next evening Darcy calls me just as I am returning home from work. She is hysterical. A cold, calm feeling overcomes me. Could this be it? Has Dex told her that the wedding is off?
"What's wrong, Darcy?" I ask. My voice sounds tight and unnatural, my heart filled with conflict—love for Dex versus friendship with Darcy. I brace myself for the worst, although I'm not sure what the worst would be—losing my best friend or the love of my life. I can't fathom either.
Darcy says something that I can't understand, something about her ring.
"What is it, Darce? Slow down… What about your ring?"
"It's gone!" she sobs.
It doesn't seem possible that your heart can sink just as you feel tremendous relief, yet that is what happens as I register that this conversation is only about a missing piece of jewelry. "Where did you lose it? It's insured, right?"
I am asking the responsible-friend questions. I am being helpful. But I sound rote. If she were any less hysterical, she might be able to tell that I don't care a lick that her ring has been misplaced. I tell her that she is a slob, that she probably just put it somewhere and forgot. "Remember the time you thought it was gone and then found it in one of your slippers? You're always misplacing things, Darce."
"No, it's different this time! This time it's gone! It's gone! Dex is going to kill me!" Her voice is trembling.
Maybe not, I think. Maybe this will be the opening he has been waiting for. And then I hate myself for thinking such a thing. "Have you told him?"
"No. Not yet. He's still at work… What am I going to do?"
"Well, where did you lose it?"
She doesn't answer me, just keeps crying.
I repeat the question.
"I don't know."
"Where did you see it last?" I ask. "Did you have it at work today? Did you take it off to wash your hands?"
"No, I never take it off to wash my hands! What kind of dumbass would do that?"
I want to tell her not to snap at me, that she is the dumbass who lost her engagement ring. But I stay sympathetic, tell her that I'm sure it will turn up.
"No, it won't turn up." More loud sobs.
"How do you know?"
" 'Cause I just know."
I have run out of suggestions.
"Can I come over? I really have to talk to you," she says.
"Yes, come right over," I say, wondering if there is more to this than a missing ring. "Have you eaten?"
"No," she says. "Can you order some wonton soup for me?"
"Sure."
"And an egg roll?"
"Yes. Come over now."
I call Tang Tang and order two wonton soups, two egg rolls, two Sprites, and one beef and broccoli. Darcy arrives at my door fifteen minutes later. She is disheveled, wearing a pair of Levi's that I recognize from high school—they still fit her perfectly—and a white tank top. She is wearing no makeup, her eyes are bloodshot, and her hair is thrown up in a sloppy ponytail, but she still manages to look pretty. I tell her to sit down and tell me everything.
"It's gone." She shakes her head, holding up her bare left hand.
"Where do you think you lost it?" I ask calmly, recalling that I have gone through this exercise a hundred times with Darcy. I am always helping her, cleaning up her messes, trailing loyally after her in her wake