You'll like this Better

I felt my arms involuntarily cross in front of my chest. “Better” still floated in the air as it traveled towards my side of the table out of those upturned, full lips. A memory from twenty years ago flooded my thoughts, involuntarily shaping my reaction. I could still feel my hair being pulled tautly upward into a perky ponytail, about to be tied in a pink ribbon.

I was seven years old and in the second month of second grade. The entire first month of second grade I quietly, but diligently, had been practicing dividing my hair into two equal parts to be fastened in pigtails on each side of my shining, young face. I loved pigtails because my grandmother had read Pippi Longstocking to me over the previous summer. I loved pigtails because I loved Pippi and knew in my heart that I was also the strongest girl in the world. I was working on how to get my pigtails to defy gravity when I decided they were ready for their debut.

My mother took one look at me and swung me into a kitchen chair.

“Oh child, that’s a mess. You’ll like this better,” she said as she deftly removed the bands securing my hair and went to retrieve a brush.

I was still speechless when she returned and began brushing my long curly hair downward and then gradually upward and back into a tight, high ponytail. She grabbed one of the bands I had used moments ago to secure my hair, gathering it all high up onto the back of my head. I saw the pink ribbon leave the table, twirling as she pulled it up to secure it around the new formed ponytail.

“There,” she said. “You’ll like this better.”

I did not go to the bathroom mirror to see my reflection, no longer framed by the symmetry of my carefully practiced styling. Instead, I grabbed my coat and headed out the door, running the two blocks to the school yard. It only took the first block to unravel and discard the ribbon, as I pulled the band from it’s secured place on top of my head. By the end of the second block, I had divided and re-secured my hair on each side of my face.

When my classmates first saw me, several pointed and then hunched down in quiet giggles. My second-grade teacher came over, undid my pigtails, and patted my hair down.

“There, that’s better,” rang in my ears.

Pippi loved her freckles and didn’t “suffer” from them and I did not suffer from unequal or uncombed pigtails. My second-grade classmates and teacher were about to find out I was the strongest girl in the world.

“Give it a try,” came the words that brought me back into the restaurant on 32nd and main.

This night had started out with all the promise and butterflies of meeting a person for the first time who sounded so right. He had known the friend who introduced us for years and he had recently moved to town to take a job with a new startup in town. My friend said he was a runner, just like me and he picked my favorite restaurant for our first date. When I first caught sight of him, I felt the breath catch in my throat. He was tall, with dark hair framing a symmetrical face. His handshake was firm but not crushing. Maybe this really was going to be dream date. Conversation came easy and was flowing, right up until the discussion turned to wine.

He was leaning forward now, offering the glass of merlot again, while moving my glass of chardonnay over to his side of the table with his other hand.

He clearly has no idea who he is dealing with, but I will give him a chance to find out. I’m the strongest girl in the world.

“I’m good with my chardonnay,” I replied as I reach for the glass holding my choice.

“I promise, you’ll like this better,” he said as he pushed the merlot forward towards my face. As my hand reached towards the chardonnay, we struggled with the glass, spilling it as it tipped and splashed onto my dress.

The waiter was quick in response with a towel and offers of a refill.

“No, she doesn’t want a refill, she’ll have the merlot,” came the words from the incredibly handsome man sitting opposite me.

“I doubt it, but I won’t speak for her. She will tell you which one she likes better,” came the words from behind me as I turned to see a familiar face that I could not immediately place.

“Sharon, is that you?”

“Yes! It’s been a long time.”

“It has. How are you?”

“Better than you right now, I think.”

It was the first time the word “better” didn’t invoke an immediate response.

“Are you here by yourself?”

“No, just with a couple of my friends. We are grabbing a quick bite. Wanna join us?”

“I’ll have another chardonnay” I said as I picked up my empty glass and handed it to the waiter. “And please change the table number for my dinner. I’ll be moving over there.”

“Stupid bitch” came the response from the other side of the table.

“Hey, you can call me a bitch any day, but don’t you ever call me stupid,” I turned and shot back in his general direction.

Sharon and my ensuing laughter followed us to her table.

Sharon and I had known each other briefly from a few college classes. While we had never pursued a friendship outside of school, I always enjoyed her intelligence and wit in the classroom.

“Everyone, meet Debbie and you should know she enjoys a good chardonnay.”

“Yes,” I started with a laugh. “I also enjoy being with people who don’t feel the need to change who I am.”

“Definitely got that….and appreciate it. He’s left by the way. First or second date? Can’t imagine it’s been more than that.”

“First date. It’s a long story, or really, just a short one. I definitely have better ones.”

As I pulled up my chair, I remembered the words of my grandmother as she closed her book on the last page of our last Pippi Longstocking book.

“Debbie,” she said. “Life can be hard for women. We will be told that we can’t do things we can, can’t try things we should and can’t be who we are. Don’t believe a word of it. Hold onto your spirit and don’t believe them when they tell you no. No just means they don’t know who you are. You are the strongest girl in the world.”

This story is dedicated to my beloved friend Debbie R., who I had pictured as I wrote the main character. I learned this morning she is facing health issues. She will come thru it because....she is the strongest girl in the world.