Calling on Friends

I had a whole list of errands I needed to do. As I backed my car out of the parking space behind our apartment, a man stopped me.

“Your right rear tire is low.”

That changed everything. Instead of going to the mall and the supermarket, I drove straight to Discount Tires, where I have a contract for tire care. I told the man behind the counter to check the tires, and since I was there, would he please have them rotated?

“That will take an hour or more.”

Okay.

There I was, with a long “to do” list in my purse, sitting on a little plastic chair in that shabby office smelling of rubber and dust, stuck for an hour with nothing to read but automotive magazines. How to pass the time? I took out my cell phone and called friends in New Mexico.

It was so good to hear those familiar voices! These were the women I palled around with when I lived in Albuquerque. We reminisced about the things we did, the book signings and Philharmonic concerts.

Our lives have changed since I moved to Texas. Betsy no longer drives and spends most of her days alone. Frances cares for her grumpy old husband, who will soon be 90. Nurses and therapists are in and out of her house all the time.

We remembered Charles and Florence, who had no children but were nutty about their toy poodle. Florence enthusiastically bought fancy little coats to keep the dog warm when she took him out for walks. She and her husband stopped coming to the senior center for lunch because the poodle was lonely when they were away. The little beast yapped constantly, and I couldn’t go in their house without him jumping up and clawing my legs.

I told Frances, “I thought they were silly in the way they doted on that dog. Now I am just as silly about my cat Charlie.”

“He sits on your lap and purrs,” Frances reminded me.

“Charlie keeps me company,” I said, “That cat is the only male in my life.”

“That’s better than a man,” said Frances.