“I mean, I don’t know about that since I just found out that a onesie can be taken off other ways, but I can definitely find the owner of a phone left in my house.” He chuckles again. “Do you want to come get it now, or would you like to just get it tomorrow when you come over?”
“Um,” I start to say. “I guess I can get it tomorrow.”
“Great,” he says. Ari whines now and arches her back. “I’m going to go and get this one to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Great,” I say, and then he hangs up the phone, leaving me just looking at myself.
“He’s so out of your league,” I say to myself. “His focus is on one thing, his daughter,” I repeat again, closing the computer. “Not you.” I push away from the counter. “His daughter and making a name for himself.” I look up at the ceiling, telling myself all the reasons it’s not okay. If only my heart was on the same page.
I fall asleep to the sound of him telling me his story again over and over. The night feels as though it is never going to end, and finally, when the sun starts to rise, I fall asleep until almost noon. I’m even shocked at myself when I grab my iPad and bring it to my face with one eye closed. I do my usual by checking emails, and then I open Instagram. His posts come up right away, and I think I’m seeing something wrong because he’s made seven posts today.
“What the hell have you done, Ralph?” I ask myself, sitting up in bed.
He posted a picture of his cereal with the word: Yum.
“Oh my God,” I say out loud, my thumb clicking his name now and seeing that he also posted a picture of a running shoe on the treadmill, then a picture of his foot in a skate, and then after all of that, a picture of a protein shake. I see that the only person who has liked his stuff is his agent Becca.
My hand flies to my call list before I can even comprehend what it’s doing, and he answers on the first ring. “Hey there,” he says, his voice full and almost booming. “I took your advice,” he says. “I posted on Instagram.”
“I saw,” I say, and I close my eyes. “And I’ve decided that I’m going to do you and the world of Instagram a huge favor.” He laughs now. “I’m going to take you on as a client.”Chapter 12RalphI knew that I would be seeing her today since I had her phone, and I am going to pretend that wasn’t the reason I was so excited when I woke up this morning. I did my normal routine, but something about today just made me smile. I worked out harder, I skated harder, and then when I walked out of the shower, my phone rang, and there she was. I told myself it was because she was going to help me, but I know deep down it was because she was going to be around. That isn’t to say I didn’t have guilt, fuck, but the guilt can bring you down the black hole faster than you know what to do with it.
When I hung up with her last night, I smiled, and my heart felt light, but then, the darkness came. The guilt crept in when I sat down and rocked Ari to bed. The guilt remained as strong as it was the first night I came home with Ari. Guilt for not being in the room with her when she delivered our daughter, guilt for not being the man she needed or deserved. Guilt weaves its way into your soul and never lets you go. And as soon as you think you’ll be okay and that you can breathe just a touch lighter, it comes back in and sucks you back down.
She sounded sleepy when she called as though there was a frog in her throat, and then she said the words I’ve been hoping for. Well, moaning out my name wasn’t an option, so this was second or maybe third best. “I’m going to take you on as a client.”
I smile from ear to ear and sit down to slip on my shoes. “Is that so?” I chuckle. “Why is that?”
She laughs, and I hear the sheets rustling. “Are you still in bed?”
“I am. Actually, I’m out of bed now, but yes.”
“It’s noon,” I say. “A little bit after noon.”
“I know.” I hear her starting the coffee machine. “I had a rough time sleeping last night, and then I saw the sun come up, and boom, I drifted off to sleep.”
“Basically, you went to bed when I woke up?” I say, getting up and looking in the mirror at my blue jeans and a white crewneck shirt that fits me like a glove. First time I am wearing anything other than sweats or shorts. Grabbing my keys off the bench, I walk out of the arena and press the button to unlock my truck doors.