This was absolutely the last time I was going to watch funny face. I didn’t feel I could blame myself… the network had played it twenty-five times in the last three days, and Audrey Hepburn was just too adorable to pass up.
As she berated Fred Astaire from the balcony, I finally plugged my phone into my charger. Eli was probably worried. John had probably filled my voicemail. I wondered idly which one I dreaded dealing with more. It was getting easier to hate John, dealing with him would undoubtedly be easier.
With Eli, I cared too much about whether what I was doing hurt him.
The light blinks on and a chime sounds as the phone announces its reemergence into the world of useable electronics. Fifty-two messages.
I didn’t think my phone held that many. I pressed the one key and entered my pin. I pressed seven until the woman’s voice told me “there are no more messages.”
With something like that you’d think they’d have gotten the woman who’d been recorded to say the whole phrase instead of stringing the words together as though they were spoken by a bored robot.
I immediately dialed Eli’s number. Before I could press send, an incoming call canceled mine.
The unrestricted number gave me pause. I almost declined, but curiosity got the better of me.
“Hello?”
“Zoe? Are you alright? Everyone’s worried.”
Marion’s voice came across the line like a battering ram. John had decided to play dirty. Send his grieving mother to do his dirty work for him.
“I’m fine, Marion,” I lied. “I’m just taking some time to be alone to clear my head.”
“John is beside himself. You need to come home.”
“Come home? Are you—”
“Of course I am! My son called me in the middle of the night completely beside himself, did you think I was going to leave him alone like this?”
I couldn’t say anything. It was too bizarre.
“Zoe. You need to come home.”
If she kept saying that I was going to scream. “I’m not ready for that yet.” I didn’t think I’d ever be ready for that.
“I don’t care. John needs you and it’s your duty as his wife to help him through this hard time.”
“Hard time? Marion, do you know what’s going on at all?”
“I know that you left him and now he’s a complete mess!”
“Before you start blaming me for your son’s problems, why don’t you talk to the woman who’s carrying his child. I’m not going to let you guilt me into coming back to a man who has every intention of leaving me for his child’s mother.”
Marion cleared her throat and spoke very clearly. “That’s not important right now. I know you two still love each other. Please, just hear him out. I have to go. Hope we can talk again soon.”
I had to admit, I admired her hope. I also had to admit: she was wrong.
Fog<<
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This is an ongoing piece of fiction for the Red Dress Club's Red Writing Hood.
This week's prompt: Write a short piece - 600 words max - that begins with the words, "This was absolutely the last time" and ends with "She was wrong."