We Could Be Beautiful by Swan Huntley

would think.
    We met at an upscale sushi place with slate walls and patches of grass in small ceramic squares on every table. We were sitting by the open window, holding hands and having a conversation about the traffic William had hit on the way up, and traffic in New York in general, when Susan appeared in a light blue jumper and oversized buggy sunglasses, her arms full of shopping bags.

    She circled through the main door. “Hello, lovebirds,” she said. “William, I’m Susan.” She gave a firm shake. “And hey, you.” She kissed my cheek. “It’s been way too long.” She sat next to me on the banquette, said, “Sorry, sorry,” to the people next to us as she arranged her bags under the table.
    “What did you get?”
    “Oh my God, there’s this new place. I don’t even know the name. Dividend? Divider? Who cares. You have got to go there.”
    “Okay,” I said, “text me the address.”
    “I will do that right now.” She grabbed her phone. A second later she said, “Done.”
    “Thanks.”
    “So, William, wow, it’s great to finally meet you.”
    “And you,” he said. “Catherine has told me only good things.”
    “She better tell you only good things.” Susan smiled. She looked good today. Invigorated. Had she had something done?
    “So you just moved back from Switzerland. It must seem dirty to you here.”
    “Well,” William laughed, “Geneva is rather clean.”
    “Everywhere’s clean compared to this hole.” She looked at the menu. Susan and I had a long history of drinking fruity drinks at Asian places, so of course she said, “Let’s order cosmos.”
    “Great,” I said.
    “I was thinking a bottle of chardonnay,” William said. “It will pair nicely with the food.”
    “I’m not eating, so I’m having a cosmo,” Susan said.
    My face was hot. I definitely needed a drink. “How’s Bonsai? I told you Susan owns a shop right near mine, didn’t I, William?”
    “You did indeed.”
    Susan was checking her phone again. “Look at this picture—how funny is that?”
    “Ha,” I said. It was a picture of a cat using a toilet. I thought, Don’t show that to William.

    “William, look at that.” She held the phone up for him. “How funny is that?”
    “Gosh,” he said.
    This was not going well.
    “William, do you still have family in New York?”
    “No, I have no family. My parents passed away recently.”
    “Sorry to hear that.” Susan applied lip gloss and rubbed her lips together. “What about other people? Did you keep in contact with anyone here?”
    “No,” he said, “unfortunately not. I was quite young when I lived here. Most of the people I knew have moved away.”
    “Catherine and I are so lucky to still be friends. It’s rare.” She put her arm around me. “So you better not hurt my baby!” She made crazy eyes and laughed.
    “I wouldn’t dream of it,” William said.
    The waiter appeared. Susan ordered her cosmo. William ordered a glass of chardonnay. I said, “I will also have chardonnay, thank you.”
    “Shall we get a bottle then?”
    “Sure.”
    “A bottle of the chardonnay, please,” William said to the waiter.
    Susan finished her drink in ten minutes flat and said she was late for a wax, which I knew was a lie. She must have forgotten she’d told me she’d made the switch to electrolysis months before.
    “So great meeting you,” she said to William, all her bags in her arms again. To me she said, “Call me, bitch.”
    When she was out of earshot, William said, “Bitch?”
    “She’s from California.”
    “Well, she certainly is energetic.”
    I laughed. “That’s true.”
    A few minutes later we were talking about van Gogh and his ear—William thought it had been a courageous form of insanity that drove him to do it—but I was having trouble paying attention. “Is something bothering you, dear?”
    “No. Well, maybe. Sorry. I guess I’m just upset you and Susan didn’t hit it off.”

    “We had so little time together.