called again today." Frustrated, he turned off the light and left his office.
* * *
Cathy Zelig hung up the phone. "I've got to give that guy credit. He doesn't give up easy."
"Who are you talking about?" Jennifer asked, coming out from the inner office, with her briefcase in hand.
"That Dr. Penrose."
"Matt called?"
"Matt?" Cathy's delicately-arched brows shot up nearly to her carefully-dyed strawberry blond hair line. "So it's Matt now, is it?"
Jennifer blushed and busied herself with picking up her appointment calendar from Cathy's desk. She frowned and flipped through it, as if she were looking for something important. "I meant Dr. Penrose. Why didn't you put his call through?" She asked nonchalantly.
"Why?" Cathy sputtered. "Last week you told me that you never wanted to speak to the man. Remember? You asked me to lie for you."
"Oh, that," Jennifer said lamely. "Well, if he calls again," she cleared her throat and tried to sound casual, "put him through. Did he leave a message?"
"He told me to tell you he had called."
Jennifer's upbeat mood sank. She'd never thought to tell Cathy that Matt was in her good graces now. And here she'd waited all day for him to call.
"Sorry. Did I goof? Do you want me to call him back?"
"No, you didn't goof. Don't bother calling him back." She paused, chewing thoughtfully on her bottom lip. Then she sighed, "Maybe it's for the best."
He had done his duty by calling. Maybe it was best if she let the whole incident slide by. She hadn't used very good judgment. Certainly not mature judgment in what she'd done in luring him to her home. He probably thought he could crook his finger, and she'd slide between the sheets with him. It would serve her right if he thought he could nail her without any of the usual effort such as wining and dining, sending her flowers, and all that.
Depressed at her thoughts, she decided to go on home as she'd intended and enjoy the evening with her parents for their weekly dinner together. She looked at her watch. They'd probably already arrived and used the house key she'd given them to let themselves in to her condo.
"Goodnight, Cathy." She turned and walked away. Before she got to the elevator, she halted. Damn. She whirled and raced back to her office. "If Matt calls back, give him my cell number," she told her surprised secretary.
She didn't wait for Cathy's incredulous reply. She felt enough like a fool without seeing that thought written on Cathy's face.
Jennifer drove straight home. Maybe her parents would take her mind off Matt. Almost every Monday night during football season, her mother showed up with dinner packed in a big picnic hamper, as if Jennifer only ate a good meal when she brought one. Jennifer grinned fondly. They'd eat then she and her Mom would talk while Dad watched the game on television.
Sometimes her mother brought dessert. Other times she whipped something up in Jennifer's kitchen. Then at half time, they'd eat the sweet concoction.
Maybe her mom had brought her special pound cake. She could use a big slab of cake tonight. With a scoop of Blue Bell Homemade Vanilla ice cream on top and a big drizzle of chocolate syrup. Jennifer sighed. Alva was right. She was in a rut, a comfortable rut. But suddenly, the sameness of her days made her restless for more in her life. Even comfortable ruts could be claustrophobic.
When she finally pulled into her parking lot, she saw her parents white Chevy Suburban SUV. With resolve, she consigned her discontent to the back of her mind and hurried in.
The smell of fried chicken greeted her when she opened the door. "Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad. I'm home," she called, locking the front door behind her.
"Jenny, come give me a hug," her dad called from the couch.
She removed her black coat and hung it in the small closet by the door then walked into the living room.
Ed Monroe was stretched out on the sofa with the velvet throw pillows beneath his head.
Jennifer bent down and kissed him on
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