I was most definitely in trouble now that not only did I know what she looked like but sounded like as well.
“Linc? Lincoln, did I lose you?” Never, I wanted to say.
But I couldn’t find the balls to, so I grunted, “I’m here.” I reassured her and then kept sharing my own observations, “You haven’t mentioned anything about you. Anything real, at least in a bit.” Two weeks to the day. “I called to make sure you were okay.”
“Oh—"
“And since you’re good with messing with me, you’re obviously fine. You just didn’t want to share, and that’s fine, too. If you’re seeing someone, that’s none of my business. We’re just…” The words alluded me. Friends? “Pen pals,” I scratched out and waited for a beat. But she didn’t say anything, and an ugly feeling started to form in the pit of my gut.
“Is that all we are?” she asked quietly. I had to clamp my teeth down. “Forget that I asked that. I, umm… I—" She sighed. “I think I got a little caught up, umm, with writing and sharing with you. I wasn’t sure if you liked even writing back or just felt obligated—"
“I don’t.”
“You never commented on my stuff, like, about me. Only about my students and things, about, well… everything else.” Shit. Had I done that? “So… I figured I would cut it out. Not give you something you didn’t want since I was already being pushy and intrusive.”
“You weren’t,” I grunted and sighed, sitting down. I rested an elbow on my knee with my cell still pressed against my ear. My gaze drifted out the small window in my bedroom. “Your letters… they make my day better,” I confessed. “I’m sorry I didn’t say that before.”
“You don’t have to say that.”
“One thing you gotta know about me, Joy, right here and right now, I don’t ever do or say anything I don’t absolutely mean.”
“Oh. Okay,” she whispered. “What’s something else I should know about you?”
“I’m a dick,” I blurted, and she laughed. Again, the sound made me feel like I was ten feet tall. Like she was slowly brightening my life with color. “I’m serious,” I added because it was the god’s honest truth.
“I know.” She giggled then caught her breath. “I’m not seeing anyone,” she shared. “In case you were wondering.”
“Hmm,” I grunted as relief washed over me. “Good.”
“Good?” she repeated, making me realize I had said that out loud.
“Yeah. Too many assholes out there,” I mumbled, and when she made that magical sound again, I found I didn’t mind the way my lips seemed to twitch upward.
And just like that, the ice broken with a hint of something more laying low between us, we started talking. A lot. So much I didn’t notice the minutes tick away into hours and then some.
“I’m glad you called.” She yawned after a while of talking, and when I looked at the wall clock in the hospital room, my eyes widened.
“Shit, it’s ten,” I noted. “I kept you up too late.”
“It was worth it,” she said. Warmth rushed through me.
Somehow, I, the guy who didn’t talk and kept to himself, had been on the phone for over four hours. And it hadn’t felt like that at all. It’d felt like I had somehow blinked, and the time had gone by too quickly.
“I don’t want to but should probably get to going. I still have to prep my lunch for tomorrow and fold a load of clothes.”
“Right. Shit, I’m sorry, Joy.”
“Don’t be. I’m glad you called… you made my day, Linc.” And fuck, that felt good. But then I frowned, wondering if my little bubble of rainbows and butterflies who was always so busy being the energy she wanted to attract ever had someone doing the most they could for her.
“I’m glad, sweetheart. Especially since you make everyone else’s.”
“I doubt that,” she humbly turned down. I was already shaking my head even though she couldn’t see me.
“You’ve been making mine from the day you sent me that first letter,” I shared. There was a moment when the line went silent. Completely hushed with nothing but the sound our breathing slightly heavier. Shallow.
“Well, umm, call me or text anytime,” she said. She almost sounded a little nervous, shy, for the first time.
“I will,” I promised.
I hadn’t lied when I told her before that I didn’t do or say anything I didn’t mean.