I’d received a series of prank calls at work and I was feeling off kilter, along with a little rattled. It had been happening a lot lately and I didn’t want to worry the kids so I hadn’t discussed it with them. But as the day went on, I had the urge to talk to someone.
The loaded question was why was I looking at his contact info like he was a friend? If I was that worried about it, I could call Lake, but it wasn’t her number my finger hovered over.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
As the shrill sound of the phone on my desk sounded for the umpteenth time that day, I jumped in my chair, my hand jerking away from my cell. My heart pounded, but unlike moments before, it wasn’t because I was thinking about a certain green-eyed fireman.
Instead, it was because of the noise echoing through the room and the irritation that I was letting the silly calls get to me.
It could very likely be a client, which was exactly why I had to answer, but still I stalled. Shaking my head at myself for hesitating, I finally reached out and grabbed the receiver. When nobody said anything or answered once again, I huffed out a breath and slammed the phone down.
Kids. It had to be. But why did they keep calling? It was my business line and that was clear by the way I answered the phone.
Unease rolled through me and I found myself picking up my cell phone. I couldn’t call no matter what he’d said. But maybe…
As though I was possessed, my fingers flew over the keys and before I could stop myself, I’d sent a text message.
Me:Hey.
It was ultimately the biggest mistake and the worst text possible.Seriously, Hey.Why the hell would I do something so dumb?
Huntley:Who’s this?
I hung my head in embarrassment. Of course he didn’t know who it was, he didn’t have my number. But what the hell was I supposed to say now? Staring at my phone, I finally talked myself into not answering at all and pretending as if I had never sent the message.
Huntley:Hello?
More time lapsed and I stayed strong. I didn’t know why ever since I found the note with his number, I felt the urge to talk to him. It was perplexing as hell.
Huntley:River? If this is you, just talk to me.
Releasing my phone like a hot potato, it clattered to my desk. How did he know? Or why would he think it was me? All of a sudden, it was like I was having an out-of-body experience. It was as though I was looking down at myself as I picked up the phone again and fired off another text.
This wasn’t me; I must’ve been possessed or something. I didn’t do things like this.
Me:I just wanted to say I was sorry about Saturday and the way I overreacted.
My pulse picked up as I watched three floating dots appear.
Huntley:You don’t owe me an apology. You did nothing wrong.
Maybe it wasn’t wrong, but it was humiliating. It had been over ten years since I had left my tortured youth behind and yet some days, I felt like I was still running from it. Hiding from it too. I’d come a long way, I knew that, but I also knew there was so much more to life I was missing out on.
I helped my kids and my clients believe in change, that anything they wanted was possible, but I didn’t practice what I preached.
Letting out an exaggerated sigh, I giggled to myself.
Yes, actually giggled as I whispered to the quiet room, “I’d like to phone a friend.”
Then, with nerves swimming in my stomach, instead of texting, I pushed the button to make the call that moments before I’d thought I couldn’t do.
And waited for Huntley to answer.
When I heard his voice, a tingle of something indescribable trickled through me.
“This is a nice surprise,” he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice.
I found myself smiling back even though he couldn’t see me. Then I realized I needed to say something, but I wasn’t sure what to say. Did I tell him about the calls? Make small talk?
