Commentary: This friendship certainly is a holiday gift

Jeanne and I made a date for our traditional trip to the Junior League’s Christmas Co.

My horoscope said my relationship with someone who makes me laugh is a “slice of heaven.” Jeanne’s said she might feel like she’s being forced to have fun, but pretending could turn into reality.

I told her about our horoscopes as we were leaving our community. She said she didn’t believe in that stuff, and I said I hoped she could pretend.

Under the fairgrounds’ archway, I realized I’d left our tickets on my desk. Jeanne, who is smarter than me by 150%, said they could pull up the tickets on my phone.

“No,” I said. “Really?”

“Pretty sure,” she said. “Something similar happened to me once.”

Really?

A quick-thumbed young woman worked magic on my phone, found the email with the tickets, and waved us toward the entrance, all in 10 seconds.

Once inside, Jeanne and I should have had shopping carts! What a selection of virtually irresistible items!

I bought a baby gift at the first nook and picked out some gifts for my grand-family at the second, and gift tags with check boxes, like: “I hope you [check one] enjoy; enjoy re-gifting; enjoy returning this gift.”

They also had giant pick-up sticks!

“Look! Just like when we were kids! Only bigger, for our older eyes.”

Jeanne pulled me away before I bought the giant pick-up sticks too. She always beat me at that game anyway.

I asked the women to put all the charges on my card. Jeanne said, no, she would pay for her own gift tags.

I said, “You paid for the parking.”

She said, “You paid for my ticket.”

I said she could buy me a glass of wine.

She said, “No! I’ll pay for my own purchases!”

One of the lovely proprietors said, “You guys have been friends for a long time, huh?”

I said, “Jeanne has been bossing me around for 70 years.”

“Yes,” Jeanne said. “And she still needs to be told more than once.”

That cracked me up. It also cracked up the women. And Jeanne.

And — unbelievable! — at the next booth was a charm bracelet with pictures from the old Nancy Drew books!

“Oh, buy it, Nancy J!” I said.

“Don’t you want it, Nancy L?” she said.

“You buy it! I’ll buy this pendant — the silhouette of Nancy with her magnifying glass.”

“You’re sure you don’t want the bracelet?”

It went like that, Jeanne and I bantering about our “finds.”

On our way out, we noticed some spectacular handmade, hand-beaded evening bags. Surely there was someone on my gift list who needed a hand-beaded bag!

Shaleel told us he made the bags himself, and his mother did the bead work. Wow.

Jeanne gave me her opinion of which were best and who should get what and wandered off. How mean!

Did she expect me to make the final decision by myself? I could give two of them as gifts. Or maybe three. Shaleel gave me a really good bargain.

When I caught up with her, Jeanne was sitting down massaging her back on a vibrating pillow.

“There’s a bargain on them if we buy two,” she said.

“I don’t think I need one,” I said.

Jeanne asked about the purses. I told her I’d bought five because I couldn’t decide which three to buy. Jeanne liked them all — so long as one in particular went to the person she felt would like it best. So I forgave her, though she hadn’t known I’d thought she’d been mean to desert me.

We stopped at Filomena’s on the way home, and I ordered the house Cianti while Jeanne studied the wine list.

“See, I don’t cultivate taste in wines for the same reason that I don’t have pierced ears.”

“Stop right there,” she said, laughing. “It sounds like it should be your next story for the Pilot. Don’t spoil it for me.”

“But . . . “

“OK, you can tell me, and then I can say, ‘I know. She told me.’”

I laughed. “It’s because there are too darn many choices,” I said. “Look how long it took me to pick out a hand-beaded bag.”

“Five hand-beaded bags.”

“Exactly.”

Happy holidays! May your horoscopes promise you much laughter with dear old friends.

Author LIZ SWIERTZ NEWMAN lives in Corona del Mar.