Summer girls

It may be April but everything around here says summer. The air has a green, grassy scent to it, the sky is bright blue, and the days are warm if not downright hot. Summertime has always been enchanting to me- the long days stretching into night, the slower rhythm, all the time spent outside be it drinking cocktails with friends on a terrace, sitting at the Hollywood Bowl, watching an outdoor movie or going for a walk for no other purpose than to enjoy the late afternoon. No one in my life has embodied that more than my friend Kate. There is something about her, whenever I’m around her, I just want to slow down even more and take in all the magic, all the details around me.

Last time I saw Kate I was in New York for a few days. We had breakfast in Fort Greene. We ate toasted baguettes with avocado and caught each other up. It had been years since I had seen her but ours is the kind of friendship that you can pick up right where you left it. Those are the best kind.

Kate and I worked together in Williamstown and became friends walking to the local swimming hole on hot days. Pretending to be mermaids gliding, laughing, floating in the cold water. Our friendship cemented lying in the grass looking at the sky telling each other stories of older men we were intrigued by as girls, taking pictures inspired by Cindy Sherman photographs while laying next to oddly lit Louise Bourgeois eye sculptures, and making up stories about a house we had passed on a walk that had five huge black birds circling its roof.

The other day someone at the restaurant said, “I love listening to people’s voices when they are recorded.” I remembered Kate had this tape recorder the summer we met. She would bring it out while we sat outside the local pub on plastic lawn furniture drinking beer and tape whoever was sitting around. At the end of the summer we came back to New York. I was getting ready to move to LA and was staying with my boyfriend in Chelsea but I was always over at Kate’s. We would walk her dog in the hot muggy afternoons, get iced coffees, and buy tomatoes and cheese for dinner. Her brownstone overlooked a beautiful garden that belonged to a parish. One night I stayed over and slept in her father’s old office. She gave me one of the tapes she had recorded to listen to as I fell asleep. I loved falling asleep, amidst her dad’s books, listening to the hum of all the voices. It felt comforting, like being seven and falling asleep while listening to all the adults at your mom’s dinner party.

If I move back to New York will life be like my friendship with Kate? Swiftly picked up right where it was left.

I’ve been restless lately. It is a restlessness I associate with being single or really more like not having a partner in crime. I called Cleo on my way to dance class. When I talk to her it feels like I will move back to New York. I haven’t made my mind up yet but sometimes I feel a pull to go back. It is as strong as the pull I felt nine years ago to leave.