Fortuity (Transcend 3)

“You’re a total bastard,” I whisper to myself as I walk down the long hallway with a slight grin on my face.

When I get in my room, I bring up Morgan’s name to video chat.

“Hey, Dad. Guess what?”

“What?”

“Gabe just messaged me. He said Gracelyn is in Chicago for a wedding. You should call her.”

“I don’t have her number.”

“I’ll send it to you.”

I grin. All this time … and I’ve never asked for her number and she’s never asked for mine. It’s insane. Probably as insane as me thinking my daughter would grow up without the influence of cellphones and social media.

We could have talked every day, but I think we both knew that wouldn’t make things better. It’s why she said that night in her bathroom was the last time. She knew we needed to distance ourselves because every touch only made it harder.

“How are you doing?”

“Fine. Are you going to call her? I’m going to message her and give her your number too.”

“You do that.” I grin. “How are Grandma and Grandpa?”

“Fine. Can you get me cell service when you get home? Grandma said it might be a smart idea … for emergencies.”

“How’s Joby?”

“Daaad!”

“Listen. I just called to check in. I need to grab lunch before the afternoon session starts.”

“Ugh! Fine. But call Gracelyn. Take her to dinner. She’s there for a full week.”

“Take her to dinner, huh? Why? She lives in San Diego. I can’t actually date her.”

“But she loves you. And someday you will be together. I just know it.”

“Are you going to leave your new house, your grandparents, your friends, and move to San Diego with me?”

“I don’t want to move. I’m going to tell Gabe he needs to move here. He would love it here! I think …”

“And why would he leave his friends if you don’t want to leave yours?”

“Because it’s California and there are earthquakes and wildfires. Hello!”

“I love you, smarty pants. I’m going to eat now. Tell Grandma and Grandpa hi.”

“Love you too. Call me tomorrow. Okay?” She blows me a kiss.

I catch it and blow one back.

*

The afternoon session drags on forever. I go out to dinner with a couple of colleagues. Then we grab beers at the sports bar in the hotel and watch the baseball game. Around nine, my phone vibrates with a text. I don’t recognize the number. I open the screen to read it.

Who’s the guy on your right? He’s kinda cute.

I glance up, over my right shoulder, then my left shoulder before replying.

He’s married.

“I’m going to call it a night. Thanks for the company. See you guys in the morning.” I stand.

My phone vibrates again.

What about the guy on your left?

I grin, weaving my way through the crowd and out to the lobby.

Long auburn hair and the backside of a pink dress get onto an elevator. I take off running, but the doors close too soon. I push the up button a dozen times.

What’s your room number?

It’s unlikely she gets my text in the elevator. So I wait. My phone screen lights up just as another elevator’s doors opens.

923

I grin, pressing the button for the ninth floor. 923 is my room. When I turn down the hallway, all I can see are two gray heeled shoes and legs. She’s leaning against my door. As I get closer, bringing her whole body into view, she lifts a small bouquet to her nose.

“Guess who caught the bouquet?” She grins behind the flowers.

I slide my room key out of my pocket. “Three hundred and thirty-three.”

She narrows her eyes a little.

I scan the keycard and push down on the door handle, bending close to her face. Her gaze goes straight to my lips. I pause for a few seconds to absorb the warmth of her body, memorize the rise and fall of her chest as her breaths deepen … for me. I do this to her. She, on the other hand, has no fucking clue what she does to me, but she’s about to be enlightened.

“It’s how many days it’s been since I’ve touched you.”

Her lips part, those breaths now audible. “You’ve been counting …” she whispers.

I grin. “The days … the hours … the heartbeats … yeah, I’ve been counting.”

The bouquet falls to the floor, and her hand reaches for my face, pausing just shy of touching it. “Three hundred and thirty-three.” A tiny smile bends her lips.

My eyes close for a few seconds when she finally touches me. Her palm on my cheek. Her thumb tracing my bottom lip like it’s done so many times before.

When my eyes open, they find hers unblinking and searching. She’s scared.

So am I.

“You. Are. Stunning.”

Her smile swells as her thumb continues to trace my mouth. “It’s the dress.”

My head inches side to side. “It’s the woman.”

Her other hand finds my face, framing it, pulling me the last inch until our lips are nearly touching. “You have to make this right.”