Chapter 63
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The apartment was a small studio—kitchen, bathroom, and one large bedroom/living room combo that overlooked a large balcony with a breathtaking view of the Potomac River and, beyond, the Washington, DC, skyline. There were no curtains or shades; Bethany admitted, “I’m up so high, who’s going to be able to look in?” Nothing at all to disrupt the view. As soon as they stepped through the door, Bethany said, “Take a look.” Then she turned off the lights and the whole window came alive with lights from the city.
Dropping her bag to the floor, Dana moved towards the window in a trance. Right in the middle the Washington Monument rose in a shaft of light; to one side was the Lincoln Memorial all lit up and, beyond that, the Capitol Building shone brilliantly in the night. Dana also recognized the Jefferson Memorial, and a bridge spanning the river glittered with headlights, adding to the scene.
“Bethy,” she sighed in awe, “this is…it’s gorgeous.”
Her friend came up beside her and slipped a hand into Dana’s. “Isn’t it?” Bethany rested her head on Dana’s shoulder. “The view alone makes it worth the price I pay in rent, trust me. I know it’s small, but it’s bigger than our dorm room.”
Dana looked around. “It is that.”
“And there’s a kitchen,” Bethany pointed out, “which we didn’t have at college. And our own bathroom. My futon’s big enough for two. It folds out into a full-size bed.”
She nodded at the sofa, which Dana now realized really wasa futon. With a grin, Dana said, “You’re trying to sell this hard, aren’t you?”
The hand in hers squeezed. “I’m lonely,” Bethany admitted. “It isn’t just Terrance, either, so don’t say I’m just upset. I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately.”
“Taking in a roommate?” Dana asked.
Bethany shook her head, ruffling her curls. “Not just any roommate. You.”
“So what did happen between you and Terrance?” Dana wanted to know.
With a sigh, Bethany led Dana to the futon, where they sat facing each other. “I told you, he’s a jerk.”
“Well, yeah.” Dana laughed, hoping to elicit a smile from her friend, but no dice. “I’ve been telling you that for years. How’d you finally figure it out?”
Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, Bethany mumbled, “Called his phone and some other girl answered. He tried telling me it was his cousin but I know it wasn’t. I mean, hello. We’ve been dating since high school. I know all his cousins.”
“So who was it?”
“What the fuck do I care?” Bethany spat with uncharacteristic vehemence. “I’m through with him. The lying, cheating bastard. Men suck.”
Dana took both of Bethany’s hands in hers. “Preaching to the choir, sister. What’d he say when you told him?”
The tears in Bethany’s eyes overflowed, spilling down her cheeks. “That’s just it! He…he…he didn’t seem to care!”
“What?!” Dana couldn’t believe it. “No way!”
“He said maybe I’m right,” Bethany sobbed. “Maybe we doneed time apart, because I’m up here and he’s back home, and I can’t expect him to wait around forever.”
Dana couldn’t believe it. “He didn’t actually say that, did he?”
Bethany nodded through her tears.
“God. You’re better off without him.” Pulling Bethany into a hug, Dana held her as she cried.
Finally the storm abated somewhat, and Bethany sighed into Dana’s damp shoulder. She felt so right in Dana’s arms—why couldn’t she see that? Didn’t she feel it, too? Dana wanted to kiss away her tears, show her how special she was, how wrong and stupid Terrance had been to abuse her trust and throw her aside. But she didn’t dare do anything more than rub Bethany’s back in a soothing motion and croon softly in her friend’s ear.
That was all they were, for now. Friends. If that’s what she needs from me, then that’s what I’ll be for her.
“You’re right,” Bethany said softly. “What do I need him for? I still have you.”
Dana hoped that would be enough. 3: Just Friends
August 1994
A summer together in the high-rise apartment overlooking the DC skyline turned into a year. Dana got a job as a barista at a coffeehouse just off the Beltway—she still thought it was a waste of her degree, but at least it was a step up from slinging fries, and she liked being around bohemian, artsy types all day, even if most of them were pretentious.