Through Thick and Thin by Alison Pace Read Free Book Online Page B

philosophy to Aubrey. She thinks it might have been a while ago now. She wills the phone to stop ringing, wills the entire piece of plastic and battery and antenna to magically disappear, go away. Except that she never used to be the kind of person to not want to pick up the phone. And it could be Meredith calling to tell her about last night; she wants to talk to her.
    “Hello?”
    “Hey.” It’s Meredith, sounding annoyed, though it’s impossible to discern if that’s because of last night with Josh or, rather, because of Meredith’s irrational peevishness about everyone picking up the phone on the first ring.
    “How’d it go?” Stephanie asks, because that’s the most important, that’s more important than pointing out, as she sometimes would like to do, that getting annoyed about listening to a ringing phone, about other people’s flip-flop straps being flipped (yes, Meredith had gotten annoyed over this once) is not going to make the world a better place, is not going to do anything actually, other than make her life a bit harder than it really needs to be.
    “Okay, just tell me, have you ever once thought of me as not ambitious?” Meredith asks. Josh . It’s not ringing phones this time, or even flip-flops, it’s Josh. “I mean, you remember why he broke up with me, right? You remember what he said?” There’s a spark to the question, a flare, and by the light of the flare Stephanie can see clearly that it’s not really the Josh of last night, the one who came up from Philadelphia to take Meredith to dinner at Bouley, but the one who left her.
    “Yes,” Stephanie says, of course she remembers why. And even though she says she remembers, Meredith repeats it anyway.
    “He broke up with me because I wasn’t smart enough, or ambitious enough, or successful enough,” Meredith says a bit blankly, almost as if she’s reciting it. Stephanie doesn’t try to stop her; she imagines in some way it might help. Though it does strike Stephanie as a bit odd that these are the reasons she’s repeating, because of all the reasons that Josh gave Meredith, three years ago, before he went to Philadelphia, the last one, the only one she isn’t saying, was the only one that was true.
    “I mean,” she continues, “I have to say I’m among the more ambitious people I know.”
    “You are, Meres. You always have been,” Stephanie agrees. She smiles to herself, remembering a scene from their childhood; one that’s always there in her memory, easily accessible, continually replayed. “Remember how excited you used to get whenever anyone would ask you what you wanted to be when you grew up?”
    “I do. Exactly,” Meredith says defiantly, and Stephanie can see it again, so clearly: a seven- or eight-year-old Meres. Whenever anyone would ask her what she wanted to be when she grew up, she would always jump up and clap her hands and announce loudly, “I want to be an astronaut! A writer! An actress! A chef! A famous chef! I want to be famous!” The job titles would occasionally change, astronaut was a staple, as was chef, but doctor made an appearance sometimes, too; the President of the United States popped up on occasion, as did scientist, rock star, and Olivia Newton-John. It was always something Meredith felt was very important. Meredith was always excited to be something very important; she always couldn’t wait.
    “Remember,” Stephanie says, “you always said chef, and you always said writer, and look at you now.”
    “Yeah, but I’m not an astronaut. Or Olivia Newton-John,” Meredith says, but she sounds happier, and Stephanie’s pleased to hear that. “And what would you always say?” Meredith asks, joining in, “you wanted to be an ice-skater, right?”
    “Hmm, yeah, I think it was that,” Stephanie says nonchalantly. She thinks of herself as a child of eight or nine, when the grown-ups would look at her and ask her that same question. “And, Stephanie, what do you want to be when you