The Charm Bracelet(9)

“Zoe?” Arden said, surprised, her mouth filled with popcorn.

“Lookin’ good, Arden,” Zoe said, laughing and pointing at her mouth.

“You, too,” Arden replied, swallowing hard. And she meant it: Zoe Sherman—all sassy, tousled blond hair, Pilates body, and glowing face—looked stunning.

“How long has it been?” Zoe asked.

Arden stammered for a reply.

Arden and Zoe had been members of a Chicago writing group called The Algonquin Wine Table, a humorous takeoff of the famed New York City writers’ Algonquin Round Table that had included Dorothy Parker.

The writing group had been Arden’s salvation at one time: They met once a week at one another’s homes to write, talk, drink wine, and dream. When she was married, it had been literary therapy to Arden, although her then-husband had poked fun at the group and at her writing. And then came the divorce. It was the lowest point Arden had ever been, and it left her feeling like her writing was silly, and a book with the mounting expenses seemed frivolous when she didn’t have any guarantee it would turn into anything concrete.

“Four years,” Zoe finally said, answering for her. “Lauren was still in high school. How’s Northwestern? Still focused on art?”

“Northwestern’s great,” Lauren said. “I’m a business major now.”

“Business? I thought you were going to be an art major?” Zoe asked. “You and your mom were going to be artists. What happened?”

Lauren shrugged, looking back and forth between her mom and Zoe. “Life, I guess.”

“And how’s your book?” Zoe asked, turning to Arden. “Are you finished yet?”

“No,” Arden replied too quickly, forcing a smile. “How about yours?”

“I did,” Zoe said, breaking into a huge smile. “And I got an agent! She’s going to shop it around once I do final revisions.”

Arden felt as if she were going to faint.

“Congratulations,” she said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster.

Arden suddenly caught her reflection in a storefront window, and the past few years flashed in front of her eyes: I have a few more grey hairs and wrinkles but not a single new page in my book.

Time had passed. So quickly, she thought again.

“You two look like you were on your way somewhere,” Zoe said. “I don’t want to keep you. I just wanted to say hello. And, Arden, we still meet every week. We’d love to have you back.”

Arden tugged at her earlobe.

“I’ll definitely try to do that,” Arden replied. “It was great to see you, too.”

“Stay in touch,” Zoe said, hugging her friend. “I miss you.”

Arden and Lauren continued their walk, making their way along the underpass below Lake Shore Drive.

“How is the book coming along, Mom?” Lauren asked encouragingly. “I think it would be great for you to go back to the writing group.”

“Here,” Arden said, handing the bag of popcorn to her daughter. “I’m not really hungry anymore.”

Arden and Lauren walked in silence the rest of the way, before emerging on the running and bike path that stretched the entire length of the Gold Coast, the skyline and lakefront glimmering, Chicago coming back to life after a long winter.

Lauren stopped, kicked off her shoes at Oak Street Beach and tested the temperature of the sand with her toes.

“It’s warm again!” she said happily, running toward the shoreline and finding a place to sit on the beach.

“C’mon, Mom!” she yelled back at Arden.

Arden slowly took off her shoes and sighed.

“I can’t be sandy for work,” she said, hesitating.

“Why not?”

Arden thought about it carefully before making her way over to her daughter.

“Impromptu beach day,” Lauren said, yanking her mother to the sand.

Arden looked at her daughter, and followed her gaze out over the lake. Though the sun was shining brightly and the temperatures were warming, the waters of the Great Lake were still chilly, and the differential between the water and the air created a ghostly mist that seemed to haunt the waves. Arden wished she could relax, but between work and financial obligations, she had too much on her mind. Her body was always tense, her mind a hummingbird. And now she was worried about her own mother.

“I haven’t shown you what Grandma sent me today, have I?” Lauren asked.

Lauren held up her wrist and jangled her charms. “A hot air balloon … for a life filled with adventure!”

Arden looked out over the lake and thought about her mother alone and so far from them. The Great Lake separated her from her mother, but it also connected them.

Lauren added, “I’m worried about Grandma. She’s getting so old, Mom.”

“Me, too,” Arden admitted. “It’s been awhile since we’ve gone to see her.”

“Then let’s have an adventure!” Lauren said suddenly, standing. “Let’s head up there for Memorial Day. What do you say?”

With each sentence, Lauren’s voice shot higher the more excited she became. “I miss her! I’ll finish finals, and you request vacation. I mean, they owe you. You haven’t taken a day off in years.”

Arden hesitated. “But what about your internship?”