The House

I need to take a moment to say good-bye to a house. The parents of two old friends of mine, sisters, have moved.

I spent about as much time at that house during high school as I did at my own.

I would walk up the driveway, to be greeted by the rambunctious barking of Stormy, the Doberman. When I first met Stormy, I thought I would have a nervous breakdown. Stormy looked like a vicious killer. Then, of course, she turned out to be the sweetest happiest dog imaginable.

So much happened in that house.

Mere and I, one of my best friends since 8th grade, would hang around in her room, listening to records. We loved music. ELO was a big thing, Soft Cell, The Clash, The Go-Gos, The Police…

I can still see Mere’s room. The view out the window, the trees, the cool jewelry, the makeup mirror, the afghan on the bed …

Mere and I worked on a scene from Taste of Honey for our acting class. We rehearsed it in the tool-shed out back, on a shivery winter day, both of us all bundled up. Do you remember that, Mere? I was playing your mother, a lower-class British floozy. And I had to scream at you, in a British accent, “You’re askin’ for a bloody good hidin’!!” And we could never get through it without laughing.

And so – if anyone had been listening – the neighbors would have heard my repeated shriek from the tool-shed: “You’re askin’ for a bloody good hidin’!” and then the two of us breaking up into gales of laughter.

Mere’s mother always kept Grey Poupon in the fridge for me.

Sometimes I would walk into the house, with Stormy bounding all over me, and Mere would be standing in the kitchen, grinning, holding up the Grey Poupon.

Mere, Jayne (her sister), and another friend Dolores filmed an entire 2-hour movie in this house. It is called The Troubled Days and Nights of Husbands, Wives, Lovers, and Children, in Hope and Despair.

We were in high school. We would banish Mere and Jayne’s parents from the house for an entire day, and then film – all over the house. We all played multiple parts. We used almost every room in the house. We sashayed around in prom gowns, we dressed up as men should the scene call for it, we had fake mustaches, we had musical interludes, where we would suddenly break out into music videos. We had so much fun that we still laugh about it today.

When Mere got married, and we all were bridesmaids, we all bustled about getting ready in Mere’s room – the room where we had all had so many hilarious sleepovers in high school. We put on our velvet dresses, we painted our nails almost-black, we had our hair put up into French braids with holly in it … snow fell outside.

In the early days of high school, or maybe it was in junior high, we all had a “punk party” at Mere’s house. It was a bunch of girls, all dressed up as our idea of punk, hanging around in Mere’s living room, playing music, and taking pictures of ourselves. I still have those pictures. They’re hysterical. We were 13. We wanted to be punk renegades on the streets of London, but instead – we were just Rhode Island school girls. Betsy, Beth, Kate, Jayne, Dolores, Mere …. all punked out … with bowls of Doritos and bottles of soda on the table in the background.

Mere, Jayne, and I would have movie-fests at their house. We not only would rent the movies, but in those days we had to rent the VCR too. And everyone would convene. Betsy, Beth, Kate, all of us …. lying around in the living room, watching 3 movies in one day.

We had Mere’s wedding shower in that living room.

Once, on a freezing snowy day, I waited for the bus, which would take me to visit my friends. The bus never came. And so – Lord knows why – I walked all the way there. Through the snow. It’s about 5 miles. I was wearing black high-top sneakers. I was freezing. I arrived at their house 2 hours after I was supposed to arrive, tramping up the icy steps with bright red cheeks, to the volley of Stormy’s barking, and Mere and Jayne peeking out at me, like: “Where the hell have you been???”

We would convene at the house on Main Street, and then walk up the hill into town, to hang out at the mall.

We would convene at the house on Main Street, and then walk a couple of blocks in the other direction to go to the movies. We got in line for the second Indiana Jones movie there, people circling the block.

Anyway. There are too many memories to count. What I am grateful for is that, for the most part, I am still friends with all of those beautiful girls – we have segued into adult friendship gracefully. But I will miss that house, because it seems to contain so many memories, so much of my high school experience, and my high school self. When I go home to visit, and stop by to say Hello – there she is – all over the place: my 15 year old self, my 16 year old self, my 23 year old self getting ready for Mere’s wedding. And there are all my friends – in all their different incarnations – all the different times and places and memories …

It will be sad to not have that to go to anymore. A thread of connection broken.

However, as I said to the Barefoot Kitchen Witch a while back – the memories are not IN the house itself. The memories are in our heads, our hearts. They are ours.

But still – Thanks for the memories, Main Street. I had a lot of fun in that house.

Good-bye!