Defining Moments by Andee Michelle

alive. I mean, I had a house, husband, and three boys to take care of. I had little time for myself, much less time to worry about a relationship with my friends. I regret that immensely.
    I lost a lot of friends over the years I was married. We all lost touch as we got married, had babies, and moved on with our lives. But once Claire and I reconnected all those years ago, she has always made the effort to stay in my life. To make sure I was okay. I had neglected to see the amount of time and dedication she’d had to our friendship until this very moment. She had kept our friendship alive all these years. She’d cared enough about me to know I didn’t have the energy to spend anywhere but on my kids and she didn’t care. She continued to love me and make the effort anyway. She is my best friend and I had been neglecting her for years, lots of years.
    “Thank you, Claire,” I choke out. “Thank you for always making sure I was okay, regardless of how busy your life was. I know I’ve never said it before, but I love you. I love that you care enough about me to stick with me through everything, even when I was so wrapped up in my own life that I didn’t make time for you. I’m so sorry.”
    “Girl, you don’t owe me an apology or an explanation,” she replies, her voice thick with emotion. “I think I’ve always known in my heart the day would come when you’d get away from that asshole and my brain told me you’d need me when that happened. I love you too, Ellie. You’re my best friend.”
    I take a minute to get my emotions back in check.
    “So what am I making you for dinner tomorrow night?” I laugh.
    “Chicken potpie, of course. You know I’m a sucker for a good homemade potpie,” she responds gleefully. “I’ll even come over early and help you. Want me to bring red or white wine?”
    “Help me my ass. You might as well bring both red and white because you know your idea of helping is to watch me while drinking wine,” I snicker in response.
    “I’m there for moral support,” she replies seriously.
    “Okay, smart-ass. How about six? That’ll give us time to chat it up, drink some wine, and make some yummy potpie. And seeing how I live alone, you might as well bring an overnight bag so that if we drink all the wine, you can just crash in my spare room.”
    “It’s a date, babe. See ya tomorrow,” she assures.
    “Tomorrow . . . and don’t forget the wine,” I tell her before hanging up.

 
     
    I REALIZE WHILE I’M in the store that I should have gotten Cord’s number from him because I am unsure of whether or not to buy the Arborio rice or if he has some. Figuring I can just use it at home if he already has it, I grab a big bag of it and chuck it into the cart. Saffron threads are not a usual kitchen staple, so I throw those in my cart too. As I make my way over to the seafood counter, I hear lots of giggling from the next aisle over and it makes me smile big. I swear the laughter and giggles of children is the most heartwarming sound in the world.
    As I pass the aisle, I look down and stop in my tracks when I see the beautiful noise is coming from Sami’s girls. She looks flustered and tired, so unlike the put-together woman I met last night at Saint.
    “Sami,” I hear myself call out before I even register I’m heading her way. She looks up with a tired smile and waves.
    “Hey, Ellie! Imagine running into you when I look like hell and my children are all running around like heathens,” she chuckles, but I can hear the worry in her voice.
    “Girl, I have three boys who were all born within three years. I understand the chaos that ensues,” I tell her honestly. “I went to the grocery store in my PJs more times than I’d like to admit to; in the middle of the day, with no makeup on, and gummy bears stuck to my hair.”
    I see her face soften as she realizes I’m not judging her. “Jesus, I needed to hear that,” she chokes out.
    “Hey, are you all right?” I ask with