“I think that’s the first true thing you’ve ever said to me.” She held the door open, allowing me room to walk inside. “Come on in. But only for a little while. It’s late.”
“Only for a little while,” I agreed.
Morgan
Ihad been second-guessing my decision to stand Lucas up the entire evening.
Phil brought me home and offered to come in and help me get settled.
“That’s not necessary. I think it’s just too much sun. I’ll be fine after some sleep,” I assured him.
“I don’t mind coming in. We can order some take away. You haven’t eaten much.” We sat in the car out in front of my building. We had been parked for almost ten minutes with Phil trying to insist on taking care of me. He was trying too hard. It was annoying.
“Seriously, it’s not necessary. I’m not a very pleasant sick person,” I said, my hand on the door handle ready to make my escape.
Phil leaned across the center console and twirled a piece of my hair. “I sincerely doubt that. I’d like to spend more time with you.”
Okay, this was getting awkward. I had led him on long enough.
“Phil, I really appreciate you coming with me to the game today. I don’t have many friends here, so it’s nice to add another to the list,” I told him pointedly.
Phil dropped the strand of hair and leaned back in his seat. It was obvious the message was received. Loud and clear. Phil Wickenham had been friend zoned.
His expression soured considerably. “Sure. Well you’d better go rest then.”
He didn’t get out to open the door for me. In fact he didn’t say anything else. And when I said goodbye he nodded his head, revved the engine of his car and sped off.
What a nice guy.
I went to my apartment and let myself inside. The evening stretched out ahead of me in a sort of depressing monotony.
I dug out one of the dozen international calling cards my mother had purchased for me before I moved and dialed her number.
“Hello?” She sounded as if I had just woken her up. I looked at the time. It was one in the afternoon her time. My mother never napped. Alarm bells went off.
“Hi Mom, it’s me. Were you asleep?”
“Just a little nap. I haven’t been asleep that long.” I could hear her moving around as she got up. “Oh my, it’s after one. I didn’t realize it was so late.”
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
“I’ve been better,” Mom answered tiredly.
“How was the EKG?” I hadn’t been able to speak to her after the tests. I had tried calling but she didn’t answer, which wasn’t overly unusual. She often kept her cell phone on silent. I had given her hell on more than one occasion about that now that I was an ocean away, but she continued to do it.
“Long,” she replied.
“Have you gotten the results yet? It’s not like you to sleep during the day.” I sounded slightly panicked. This was the problem when I wasn’t there to see for myself how my mother was doing. And she wasn’t very forthcoming with information.
“That’s what happens when you get old, Morgan. Stop fussing. I won’t have the results until next week.” She sounded peevish.
“Will you email me as soon as you get them? Or you can call me too, you know?”
“Of course, I’ll email or call. Stop worrying. Now tell me how things are with you. Missing home?”
“Of course I am. Living here has taken some adjustment,” I admitted. The nagging homesickness was still there, though perhaps not as prevalent as it had once been.
Why was that I wondered?
