Her phone rang. And rang. Finally went to her voicemail.Go figure.
“Hey, it’s Evan. Just calling to see if you’re free to grab dinner tonight. If you get this in the next hour or so and want to, give me a call.”
He disconnected and laid the phone on the microfiber sofa’s armrest. Reluctantly, he stared at the textbook pages again, trying to make sense of the material. Twenty minutes later, he tapped his phone for any sign of a response from Janie. Nothing. He checked the volume to make sure it hadn’t been switched to silent. It was on medium.
Low growls rumbled from his stomach after an hour. Still no word from Janie. He wished he knew if she’d gotten the message or not. Was the lack of response a passivenoor not knowing of the invitation yet. If she didn’t want to go, he could handle a negative answer. He was a big boy.
A few more minutes. He went to the kitchen and grabbed a banana to snack on while he waited. Took a shower on the off chance she would call even though it had been more than an hour.
After two hours, he started to worry. It wasn’t like Janie to not have her phone nearby. Did he call again? Stop by her house? He didn’t want to be pushy or overbearing, but if something were wrong, he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he didn’t check on her.
He settled on sending her a text.Lord, please let Janie be fine.
His phone still rested in his hands, his eyes staring, waiting, when the screen lit with an incoming call.
“Hi.” He cut himself off from rushing to ask if she was okay.
“Hi.” She sounded chipper, not distressed or upset with him for any reason. “Sorry I missed your call earlier. I decided to paint the guest room and left my phone in the kitchen. I didn’t realize how late it was until I saw the sun setting.”
Thank You, Lord, for keeping her safe,and restoring her independence.“Did you get my message?”
“No. I saw you called then saw your text and didn’t want you to worry.” The sound of running water came from her side of the call. “What’s up?”
“Have you eaten yet? I need a break from studying.”
“I haven’t. What did you have in mind?”
“Mexican? Italian?” His body had used the sustenance from the banana already. “I’m good with anything.”
“Who all is going?”
He grimaced—she’d started the dance he’d wanted to avoid. “Just you and me.”
“Oh.”
“No funny stuff, I promise.”
“I don’t know.” The hesitation in her voice hurt.
Man, he missed her. “Please?”
“One condition.”
“Whatever you want.” Desperation leaked into his tone, and he prayed she didn’t pick up on it.
“We talk about what happened over Christmas.”
Her words slammed into him. Anything but that. Though maybe it would help get them back on track. “All right. Where do you want to go?”
“There’s a new hibachi place that opened last week. How about that?”
The suggestion surprised him. Not only would the restaurant be packed because of its newness, but hibachi didn’t lend itself to a private conversation—they were guaranteed to be sat around the grill with another party or two. However, he could already taste the salmon and fried rice. “Sounds good.”
“Give me a half hour to wash the paint off my face and get ready. Want me to meet you there?”
“I can pick you up.”
“Okay. See you soon.”
