Jill came up from Edmond a couple of weeks ago and we picked up lunch from The Grill and were on the way home when I almost wrecked the car.

As I turned onto Cherokee St. she said, “Look! Naked ladies!”

I hit the brake, looked in the direction she’d motioned to when she said, “They’re beautiful.”

I looked at her as if she’d lost it when she said, “They’re flowers. Lilies.”

We laughed.

It feels good to laugh with others who aren’t handing me a Dr. Pepper, a deposit slip, or my medicine at a drive-thru, though those people know me by name and I appreciate them.

It’s also good to wear something besides a T-shirt I’d slept in, pajama bottoms and house shoes.

I wore real clothes when another step-daughter, Tracy, came on a Saturday for lunch and a game of Wahoo with Jill and me. Tracy complimented the flowers in the front yard that I don’t know the names for but Jill does since she helped me plant many of them.

Jill and Tracy’s sister chemistry and competitiveness is fun to watch, and it felt so good to hurt from laughing at, and with, them.

We hadn’t seen each other for awhile, but we all came together as if we’d seen each other the day before, and repeated stories, and memories shared before the pandemic.

They’ve been the only ones at the house since then, and I cherish those deep belly laughs that I experienced that day.

I needed a fix of watching, hearing, and feeling their love in person, but beating both of them playing Wahoo was a tiny bonus.

We ended the day with those strange elbow bumps when I really wanted to hug them, but knew better.

I was tired, but it was a good tired.

Soon the cats and I were napping.