Visit From a Friend

     Because of how hectic a month May was, there wasn't time to reassemble the volleyball net after its brief winter break. So Caleb hooked it back up Thursday night after chopping down a bunch of interfering tree branches hanging over the court, which we then hauled down to the trailer at the bottom of the driveway. So volleyball season was open, which is always a good thing.

     Amy was typically excited about a grocery run to Sam's Friday morning, and other than that it seemed like an ordinary day - a little slow-starting, but that isn't too untypical. I was brushing my teeth when I hear somebody yelling for me to open the door, since someone was here. I see a fire-engine-red Chevy Cobalt parked in the driveway. "Ashland drives a red Cobalt, doesn't she?" I idly ask myself while twisting the doorknob.

     Side notes - Someone in UV-B at RSU drove a red Cobalt, which drove me nuts, always catching sight of it at random times and then admonishing myself that it was crazy for wondering if she was visiting for some reason. The model she drives wedged into my memory because it was my favorite to drive from Need For Speed: Most Wanted.
     Also, freshman year I was on my way to the post office in the UC basement to mail Ashland a birthday card when I lost the fight with the stairs. It's probably not significant, but it sure feels that way somehow - I got three scars on my left hand from that fall. I serve left-handed, and she wore No. 3 for the volleyball and basketball teams in high school.

     The cats are meowing loudly on the porch, like always.
     "HEY!!!!" a familiar glasses-wearing blonde grins.
     My jaw drops. "WHAT THE HECK...?"
     "Bet you weren't expecting to see me, huh?"
     Well, no - and the last time we saw each other I had to swipe a wasp out of her hair.
     She had the day off, and so she and Courtney had thought up the plan for her to come visit.
     "Who is she?" Trevor hisses quietly. "Your voice cracked like it does when you get really excited about something." "Ashland - you've heard stories." "Oh, right....wasn't she the one you wrote the book with?" "Yep."
 
     We hang out around the kitchen table with the family, discussing topics for several hours ranging from personality tests and superpowers to basic history, Greek mythology and special needs. Ashland's family is more Enneagram-based when it comes to personality tests, while we're Meyers-Briggs based. They're both useful tools. I'm an INFJ(ISFJ subtype), she can't remember her MBTI type, and we're both Enneagram Type Six, with wings (subtypes) of Five (me) and Seven (her).
     Camp "do you remembers?" were traded back and forth, especially the memories of being Blue Bison teammates (the Black Panthers and White Cubs weren't the best teams, though they were fun, too). Lots of stories were told, because that's what we do, like Mrs. Boyer's sympathy card, or how we met our first year. Matt was dancing the Virginia Reel with Ashland, and I was dancing with Madelyn, then we swapped partners for the Gay Gordon. Since we figured out the steps almost instantly, and everyone else had a hard time getting them down, there was a lot of time to talk. And that led to all the other projects we've worked on together since.
     Amy quickly decided that Ashland is her new favorite person in the world, though she couldn't remember her name. "I love Wesley's friend!" she said at one point.

     Ashland was curious about the Broken Arrow Bass Pro, and Caleb loves going there, so we piled in and headed up 75. And of course there had to be a selfie commemorating the occasion:

     It's not the greatest picture in the world, but taking bad pictures of each other is kind of what we do. Sometimes we even do it on purpose, like with this shot from our Bison days:

     That was to ease the tension during an especially-nerve-wracking table tennis match, though. Jed didn't get the memo to look worried.
     After dinner at Carl's Jr., we suggest roaming through Promenade Mall, but Caleb's like "Nah...." So we just decide to head back. Caleb falls asleep, waking up with a "Where am I?" It was funny. Ashland and I sing along to a country station (Billy Currington's "People Are Crazy," Dan + Shay's "From the Ground Up," can't remember the others). Conversation topics included good food ("Meatloaf is my weakness" she said), alcohol consumption (conclusion: don't get drunk, but once in a while is fine), Washington, D.C. (everyone would go there at least once, if we had our way), and family holiday traditions.

    Some more volleyball once we got home, and we were going to get some food in the morning, but that didn't quite work out, because of wrong turns and impending storms. So we just hung out in the living room again, plotting revisions on Two For the Treasure. At one point as a parenthetical phrase to whatever we were talking about at the moment, she says in a Jane Foster-like tone, "Blue is a good color on you." We also sketched a rough outline of our next project, tentatively titled Winter's Grace, where a handful of college students are stranded on a mountain during winter break.
     There was a lot of laughter. It was a good weekend.