Regret and Renewal
Fiona adjusted her cardigan and stepped into the restaurant, allowing the scent of freshly baked bread and the heady spices in the air to clear her mind. It was rare that she got to simply go out and take some time for herself, given the presence of a very demanding two-year-old and the absence of a father figure for her. But when Helen called, Fiona always answered, because she missed her best friend.
“Fiona!” a voice whisper-shouted, and Fiona smiled, running a hand over her hair to make it look a little more presentable. Helen was waiting at their usual table, her legs crossed to the side so that her heavy black boots didn’t bang into the delicate metal engravings along the stem of the table.
“Helen, it’s so lovely to see you again,” she said, sinking into her own chair. “Your hair is pink.”
Helen pouted, and then reached out to tug at a wayward curl of Fiona’s hair. “Yes, and yours could be too, if you would just let me -”
Fiona smacked her hand away good-naturedly. “Lily has a hard enough time recognizing her aunt Helen every time she gets a new neon highlight in her hair, imagine if her mother showed up with bright blue hair!”
Helen laughed, leaning back in her seat. Her fancy leather jacket lay abandoned on the empty chair, and Fiona laid her handbag over it carefully.
“How is my little niece?” Helen asked, her eyes glimmering with excitement. “I have missed too many of her milestones with my travelling.”
“She’s so proud of her globe-trotting fashionista aunt,” Fiona replied, wadding up a tissue and trying to wipe away a stain she hadn’t noticed on her shirt. “While her poor mother languishes in the classroom, trying to make up for a lost college degree.”
“Don’t disparage yourself like that,” Helen said sharply. “There’s nothing wrong with choosing to go back to school!”
“I was a stupid child,” Fiona sighed. “I should have known -.”
“What? That he would ditch you? You’re not a prophet, Fiona.”
“I should have listened to you.”
Helen paused for a moment. “Would you look at that,” she said wonderingly. “I’ve become the voice of reason.”
Fiona laughed. “But really, Helen, you told me to be careful, and I didn’t listen. So now you’re successful, and I’m…me.”
“You’re successful too,” Helen said softly. “You’re a mom, and you’ve managed to give Lily a good home. I’m proud of you, Fiona. Never forget that.”
Fiona gave her a weak smile, and looked down at the table. If asked in college, she would never have believed that her best friend five years on was not from her quiet group of studious people, but the most chaotic club-hopping woman to grace the grounds of their campus.
She had been there when no one else stood by her. Fiona relied so much on Helen’s spontaneous excitement in the face of her silent worry, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.