Cal: (i am me)
I look at this. I look at it the way you look at something that was inevitable and arrived exactly when you expected it to and is still slightly annoying.
Me: fine.
>
Cal: that’s all
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Cal: three dots and that’s all i get
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Me: yes
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Cal: grady
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Me: what
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Cal: i’ve been waiting for this for six weeks
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Me: you’ve been waiting for what
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Cal: don’t
I sit with this for a second.
I put the phone face-down. This is not going to help. Cal has been waiting for something to happen between me and Sloane since approximately day five of the dog appointments, which I know because Cal’s silences have a texture when he’s waitingfor something, and for the last six weeks his silences have had that texture exclusively. He’s never said a single thing about it directly. That’s how I know. His timing, in general, has always been extraordinary. I’ve been in active fire situations with less predictability.
Sloane is still at the window staring out. She doesn’t ask about the texts. She doesn’t ask about most things—I’m noticing this. She waits for you to offer. You learn more about a person from what they don’t ask than what they do, and what she doesn’t ask tells me a lot about what she already understands.
My phone lights up again. Station group chat.
Derek: elk creek jumped the ridge overnight
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Derek: 2000 acres by morning estimate
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Gemma: ICS is calling for additional resources
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Diaz: roll call 0900
