I was surveying things as I walked around my apartment making sure that it looked the way I like it-glass and mirrors sparkling, wood polished, carpets vacuumed and the kitchen and bathrooms spotless. I was happy as I started the prep work for my evening's menu. Appetizers, salad, pasta with mussels, barbeque chicken, dessert and lots of wine were all on hand. I finished up, took a bath and got dressed. I went out onto my balcony to relax a bit and take in the beautiful summer's day. It was late July in 2006. I started to think about the special evening that was ahead of me. It had been many a year, much too long, since we all had been together in one place. In 2001 I had written my girlfriends informing them of my intention to write a book about our teenage years, our coming of age in the culture that was ours. A time in the history of our city when neighborhood bars, nightclubs and after hour joints were a plenty. When men and women who were in "the life" rode around town in Cadillacs, and there we were five girls in high school all up in the mix, and thinking we were the cat's meow.
Five years had passed since writing the letter, everyone had been excited about the possibility of a book about us. Ingrid had suggested that I get everyone together and just do what we do-eat, drink, laugh, love on one another and reminisce, as it would be helpful in jogging my memory. I hadn't done much writing since sending off the letter. Life and procrastination had gotten the best of my intentions, and just getting everyone together had fallen by the wayside. But tonight, it was finally going down. My tape recorder was ready for me to press record and I had pen and paper too. Joining us this evening would be our daughters. They all know each other, but don't socialize together as their mothers do. But they have a love for one another just the same. They know of the bond their mothers share and the longevity of our friendships, and they wonder about it. They will get an earful and a knowing at our gathering tonight.