Page 1 of In a Pickle

Chapter 1: Liana

Liana hadn’t expected the cheers and whoops that rang out when she entered the restaurant. A group of three middle-aged women, clearly drunk at noon on a Sunday, clapped excitedly as Liana and her mother made their way across the restaurant. Somehow, the three women made enough noise to be heard over the steady bass thrum of the techno music blasting from the dimly lit DJ booth. The DJ, unperturbed, continued bobbing his head to the beat, engrossed in his Sunday brunch gig.

“Our Liana is here!” cried Milena, the loudest of the loud bunch. Milena jumped to her feet, grabbed Liana’s face with both hands, and smushed her cheeks as if Liana were a small child and not twenty-six years old.

“Look at you!” cried Karen, pulling Liana out of Milena’s grasp and wrapping her in a soul-crushing hug, followed by a kiss on each cheek. She pulled back, gave Liana a long look, and nodded, seemingly satisfied with what she saw. She smoothed her hands down Liana’s arms and said, “It’s good to have you back, kid.”

Ana, always the calmest of her mom’s friends, clasped Liana’s hand and air-kissed her once. Always immaculately put together, Ana wore a navy sweater tied around her neck and oversized sunglasses, despite the fact that they were indoors. “Come, darling, and sit.”

Liana and her mom, Deb, took their seats, and Milena handed Deb some sort of tropical-looking drink with two little umbrellas and a slice of pineapple on top. “Try this!” Milena demanded. “Ana says it’s too sweet, but I tell you, it’s the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted.”

Deb took a small sip and made a face. “That’s vile, Milena.”

“Pssh, you’re just wrong,” said Milena, gesturing wildly with the drink back in hand. “Liana, I was going to say you’re not old enough to drink, but I can’t believe it; you are. Our little baby is all grown up. Just yesterday I was changing your Pampers, and now look at you. An adult. You try this drink and tell me it’s not delicious.” She shoved the drink under Liana’s nose, the forcefulness indicative of her drunkenness.

Deb gently helped Milena set the drink down. “I can’t believe it either, but my baby is all grown up," Deb said. "She doesn’t want your drink, though, Milena.”

“Yeah,” said Karen. “Don’t pressure our girl to drink.”

“It’s fine,” said Liana. “I don’t want any, Milena, but thanks so much. It looks really good.”

Ana let out a laugh. “Still such a sweet girl. She knows when to tell a little white lie.”

Milena’s face was full of mock horror. “Don’t be mad that everyone else thinks the drink looks good. It’s not their fault you have bad taste.”

“Oh, please,” Ana countered. “You just ordered that drink because of the name.”

“And why not?” replied Milena. “I’m Too Sexy on the Beach? So fun and trendy!”

“It’s just a regular Sex on the Beach,” Karen whisper-hissed to Liana. “But she thought it was extra fancy because of the name.”

“This place makes it different. See how cool this place is, Liana? Isn’t it so trendy?” Milena gestured to the gold lights, pale green booths, and tropical-inspired decor. “I found the restaurant. We do boozy brunch once a month, as your mom probably told you, and it was my turn to pick this time. I found this place on the blogs. The blogs said it’s the next up-and-coming place in South Beach.”

Ana rolled her eyes. “‘The blogs,’” she said, pulling her fingers into air quotes.

“Oh, please,” Milena continued, unperturbed. “At least I know how to use technology. You just got an iPhone last year. You insisted on using a BlackBerry until they went out of business, because you had ‘only just upgraded’ from your flip phone. I bet you’d still be using only landlines and fax machines if you had your way.”

“Yes, I would.” Ana nodded solemnly. “Have you seen the effects of modern technology on kids these days? There are so many studies. We all survived just fine before the internet. We actually talked to each other. Had real conversations.”

“Well, we’re here talking now,” said Karen, clearly trying to steer the conversation in a different direction. “We’re all so happy to see you, Liana. And we’re just thrilled that you moved back home. I know your mom is so happy to see you living at home again.”

Deb grasped her daughter’s hand. “I am.”

“It’s been way too long since we’ve seen you, mija,” Milena said, and Liana agreed. Liana’s mom, Deb, had grown up withMilena, Karen, Ana in a suburban part of Miami, and they had all stayed friends since high school. Liana considered her mom’s friends to be surrogate parents; they were in her life frequently growing up, especially after her parents’ split.

Seeing the group’s big personalities made her feel at home in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time, despite having been back in Miami for a few months. She was glad that she was finally feeling well enough to attend their brunch after being invited for months. Liana had hoped that some of the other women’s daughters would join, but no such luck. Apparently, Ana’s two kids were busy, and Karen’s daughter was away at college.

Even without anyone else from her generation here, Liana felt the comfort of being around familiar faces. She also had to admit she’d missed the beautiful scenery of her hometown. The restaurant was on the third floor of an old art deco building, and the floor-to-ceiling windows offered an unbeatable view of Biscayne Bay. Liana sighed happily as she took in the ocean sights: the pelicans swooping down into the ocean to grab unseen fish, the small boats jetting across the water, the Brickell skyscrapers glinting on the other side of the bay. Moving home hadn’t exactly been her plan, but she had to admit there were positives. There was just something about the Miami ocean that sparkled with possibility.

“So, my love,” said Milena, grasping Liana’s hands. “Tell me, what are you up to these days?”

“She’s still recovering from a major surgery and getting her health back,” Deb said quickly — a tad defensively, Liana thought. Liana was slightly annoyed. She was an adult; she’d lived on her own for over seven years. She didn’t need her mom answering for her or fighting her battles anymore.

“That’s wonderful that you’re feeling better,” Karen said, even though those weren’t quite the words Deb had used. “We are all so happy that you made it through that tough time. The recovery is going well?”

“It is,” Liana confirmed. “In fact, I just had my eight-week follow-up appointment with my surgeon, and he cleared me to start exercising again, which was the last official milestone I had to pass.”

“That’s wonderful!” said Karen enthusiastically.

---