a week ago. Plus there really was never a time that
I’d actually want to talk, so I might as well deal with the
inevitable, I thought, picking up the phone. She’d been calling so
much more often lately.
“ Dahling ,”
my mother cooed. She’d recently been in England and seemed to have
picked up a bit of an affectation. “I’m going to be in Solana
Beach next week and I’d love to take you out to dinner, just us
girls.” There was never a question whether or not I’d join her.
She was like a bulldozer--better just step out of the way, or she’d
run you over. My Mother knew how to ask for what she wanted and she
was used to always getting her way.
“Sure,” I agreed,
trying to put a smile in my voice. Miranda was so much easier to deal
with if I just played along. “Although I’m sure Luke would want
to come,” I added. Luke didn’t like our mom, but he also didn’t
harbor as much anger towards her as I did. I’d protected him from
the most terrible things she’d done. He had also been so young when
our happy family had shattered apart—maybe he just couldn’t
remember what he had missed out on. Or maybe he was just a more
forgiving person than me.
We agreed to have
dinner, and after she told me about her latest party, complained
about “the help,” (I really had to bite my tongue there), and
lamented the state of something that I was too bored to process, she
finally let me go.
And not a minute too
soon as there was only so much patience I could muster. I made myself
a huge bowl of popcorn, adding lots of salt and butter. I deserved it
after that phone call. I sat down on my comfy sofa, and turned the
DVR on to relax in the oddly comforting rhythm of watching strangers
buy their wedding dresses. Randy was, as usual, counseling a
despondent bride who cried about the loss of her mother, that she
couldn’t be with her for this special day. I got a little teary
eyed, but then I tried not to laugh as images of Miranda in Kleinfeld
Bridal flitted through my mind. As it switched to commercials, the
phone rang.
If it was my mother
again, I wouldn’t pick up, I thought as I fast-forwarded through
the commercial break. I looked at caller ID and saw unknown number.
I’d given out my cell number to a few clients before the store was
up and running, so I picked up.
“Amy.” Ryan’s low
voice washed over me. I felt myself smiling like an idiot—just from
a phone call! I could hardly imagine what I would be doing if he were
here.
“Hi.” My voice
sounded a bit wobbly, breathless.
He took a deep breath,
and in his perfect accent said, “I can’t get you off my mind.”
I didn’t know how to
respond. Obviously I felt the same way, but the butterflies in my
stomach were doing a crazy dance, and I wanted to sound coherent when
I responded. There was a silence, which stretched on for a little too
long.
“Ryan,” I finally
said, my voice raw and true, “I feel the same way.”
“Could I take you to
dinner?” he asked. Before I could answer, he said something else
that had my stomach doing somersaults and backflips.
“I want you.”
His voice was almost a
too low to hear. Shivers ran up and down my arms. Suddenly I no
longer wanted popcorn between my lips. I craved Ryan’s kiss, his
tongue exploring my mouth, his hands on my body.
We agreed to meet the
next night. I was just about to hang up, when I remembered I’d
already made plans with Hunter. I tried to stifle a groan. What I
really wanted to see Ryan right then , preferably naked.
“Wait,” I said quickly before he could end the call on his side,
“I actually just realized I have plans tomorrow—can we find
another time?”
“Oh, erm,” Ryan
began, unable to hide the disappointment in his voice, “of course.
How about Saturday?”
I agreed. It was just a
few more days. Like Ryan, I felt disappointed, deflated like a
balloon. But maybe the anticipation would make the date even better.
I didn’t remember ever feeling this
I’d actually want to talk, so I might as well deal with the
inevitable, I thought, picking up the phone. She’d been calling so
much more often lately.
“ Dahling ,”
my mother cooed. She’d recently been in England and seemed to have
picked up a bit of an affectation. “I’m going to be in Solana
Beach next week and I’d love to take you out to dinner, just us
girls.” There was never a question whether or not I’d join her.
She was like a bulldozer--better just step out of the way, or she’d
run you over. My Mother knew how to ask for what she wanted and she
was used to always getting her way.
“Sure,” I agreed,
trying to put a smile in my voice. Miranda was so much easier to deal
with if I just played along. “Although I’m sure Luke would want
to come,” I added. Luke didn’t like our mom, but he also didn’t
harbor as much anger towards her as I did. I’d protected him from
the most terrible things she’d done. He had also been so young when
our happy family had shattered apart—maybe he just couldn’t
remember what he had missed out on. Or maybe he was just a more
forgiving person than me.
We agreed to have
dinner, and after she told me about her latest party, complained
about “the help,” (I really had to bite my tongue there), and
lamented the state of something that I was too bored to process, she
finally let me go.
And not a minute too
soon as there was only so much patience I could muster. I made myself
a huge bowl of popcorn, adding lots of salt and butter. I deserved it
after that phone call. I sat down on my comfy sofa, and turned the
DVR on to relax in the oddly comforting rhythm of watching strangers
buy their wedding dresses. Randy was, as usual, counseling a
despondent bride who cried about the loss of her mother, that she
couldn’t be with her for this special day. I got a little teary
eyed, but then I tried not to laugh as images of Miranda in Kleinfeld
Bridal flitted through my mind. As it switched to commercials, the
phone rang.
If it was my mother
again, I wouldn’t pick up, I thought as I fast-forwarded through
the commercial break. I looked at caller ID and saw unknown number.
I’d given out my cell number to a few clients before the store was
up and running, so I picked up.
“Amy.” Ryan’s low
voice washed over me. I felt myself smiling like an idiot—just from
a phone call! I could hardly imagine what I would be doing if he were
here.
“Hi.” My voice
sounded a bit wobbly, breathless.
He took a deep breath,
and in his perfect accent said, “I can’t get you off my mind.”
I didn’t know how to
respond. Obviously I felt the same way, but the butterflies in my
stomach were doing a crazy dance, and I wanted to sound coherent when
I responded. There was a silence, which stretched on for a little too
long.
“Ryan,” I finally
said, my voice raw and true, “I feel the same way.”
“Could I take you to
dinner?” he asked. Before I could answer, he said something else
that had my stomach doing somersaults and backflips.
“I want you.”
His voice was almost a
too low to hear. Shivers ran up and down my arms. Suddenly I no
longer wanted popcorn between my lips. I craved Ryan’s kiss, his
tongue exploring my mouth, his hands on my body.
We agreed to meet the
next night. I was just about to hang up, when I remembered I’d
already made plans with Hunter. I tried to stifle a groan. What I
really wanted to see Ryan right then , preferably naked.
“Wait,” I said quickly before he could end the call on his side,
“I actually just realized I have plans tomorrow—can we find
another time?”
“Oh, erm,” Ryan
began, unable to hide the disappointment in his voice, “of course.
How about Saturday?”
I agreed. It was just a
few more days. Like Ryan, I felt disappointed, deflated like a
balloon. But maybe the anticipation would make the date even better.
I didn’t remember ever feeling this
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