The Layers

"I am not who I was..."

Several weeks ago, maybe months—what is time anyway?—I had dinner with a group of girlfriends. I was the interloper—they’ve all been best friends for decades, since they were barely scratching the surface of adulthood—and what can I say: I wanted in. Their shorthand, the easy rapport born from near-sisterhood, the way they were present with each other. …