small world?

I shifted a little bit in the leather chair so that the cards I dropped into my lap wouldn't slither into the creases.

"Well, you know," I was saying to Meg, "I just really like E. She's one of the only ones who didn't look at me as if I were lying to her."

We were discussing, as women will, the difficult nature of obtaining a decent OB/GYN while I played solitaire and Meg bottle-fed Josie.

"Plus, she hates how insurance companies don't cover stuff for women," I said. "She promised to write a nasty letter if they give me trouble."

"Nice," said Meg. "Where do you go?"

"That one on Lafayette."

"Oh really? No way!" she said. "That's where I go! What's your nurse practictioner like?"

"Pretty, curly light hair..."

"...tall?"

"Yeah! That's the one."

"Wow! She did our ultrasound, I really liked her."

We grinned at each other and sat back, murmuring about small worlds and the strange coincidences that bring women together. We swapped a few more stories while she played with Josie and I reshuffled the deck.

Later, as we got ready to take Josie on a walk with Meg's husband Phillip, Meg looked up from squeezing Josie into her adorable little pink pants.

"Wait," she said. "Didn't I recommend you to that place?"

I thought for a second and burst out laughing.

"Yes," I said. "You did. Three years ago."

We spent the next few minutes doubled over, mocking ourselves. "You know you've been friends forever when..." we said.

Phillip told us later that he'd overheard the conversation from where he worked on the computer in the next room.

"Did you hear us realize how stupid we were?" Meg asked.

Phillip said placidly, with his usual edge of sarcasm, "I heard. I remember Meg telling Sarah to go there."

Meg and I decided that completely forgetting certain things make life a constant and delightful surprise. Everything seems like a coincidence.