Page 109 of You Spin Me

BEEP. Jessica, this is Dave. We are happy to offer you the roles of Luciana in Comedy of Errors and Caliban in The Tempest for the summer season. I’m not sure if you’re out of the hospital yet, but if you can give the office a call when you have a chance to let us know if you accept and can start rehearsals mid-May, that’d be great. Looking forward to working with you again.

Pressing pause, I celebrate winning the roles I wanted with a little jig. However, I have no idea how many messages are left and the clock is ticking down, so I make myself start the machine again.

BEEP. Jess, this is Richard Jones from WBAR. I got the message that you’re out sick this week, but Rocket and Porky are wondering when you’re going to be back in. Can you give me a call as soon as you know?

My brain races through possibilities as I listen with half an ear to the rest of the messages, most of which are from friends. Dance and theater friends I’ve neglected while I’ve been running myself ragged trying to be too many places at once the past few months. Bella came to see me while I was in the hospital and I’ve talked to her on the phone, but I guess everyone else will have to wait.

No message from Cal. Of course, I haven’t called him either. I was angry that he left me at the hospital, but I also get how hard it must’ve been for him to even walk in there in the first place. On top of that, my sister can be pretty intimidating when she’s in doctor mode or protecting her little sister, so the combination may have freaked him out. But if he loves me, wouldn’t he at least reach out to check on me?

Only fifteen minutes left before I have to leave, so I call the Shakespeare Boston office and leave a message accepting the job. What I don’t say is that I’m not positive that I’ll be well enough to do it. Hopefully, knowing I have work will be the incentive I need to get through whatever is in store for me down in Rhode Island. Like Prudence, neither of these characters is defined by their beauty, so maybe playing them won’t be a danger to my mental health.

Calling Jones is trickier, so instead of making that call, I rerecord my outgoing message five times trying to hit the right tone.

“Hi, you’ve reached the answering machine for Jessica Abraham. I am out of town with limited telephone access, so I won’t be checking messages or returning calls until after March twenty-seventh.”

Time’s up. I need to get out the door, but I stare at the machine for a few moments anyway as I try to figure out what to say to Jones.

I love Cal and I want the best for him, but I also need to work. The regular gig at the station is not something I’m going to walk away from. I think I can behave professionally, even with a broken heart—I’ll be in therapy, so hopefully that’ll help—so I make the call.

The receptionist puts me right through to Jones’s office.

“Jones’s office, Cal speaking.”

“Cal?”

In the beat before he answers, I remember that Jones’s office is a regular way station for the DJs since they don’t have their own.

“Jess?”

“What are you—” I begin.

“How are you—” he says at the same time. “Sorry. No, wait. I’m not sorry. I need to know. Are you okay?”

My heart’s bouncing from my throat to my belly, and I’m gripping the phone like it’s a lifeline.Am I okay?“I’m… the infection is under control, but I’m—I have some stuff to deal with. Mental issues.”

An audible sigh is all I get, so I keep talking.

“I will be okay, though. I promise. I—I actually need to leave, like, right this minute, and drive down to this special clinic in Rhode Island to begin the work I need to do, and I’m running late as usual. I’m returning Jones’s call about my work at the station, but I don’t—I mean, I don’t want things to be awkward for you. I need the money, so?—”

“Jess. It’s okay. You should keep working here. I’m really glad you’re okay, but more important, I’m so sorry that?—”

He breaks off, sniffs and swallows. I want to let him off the hook, tell him it’s fine, I’ll be fine, I understand if he doesn’t want to deal with all my crazy shit. But I also want to hear his apology.

So I wait.

“Sorry, I uh… Phew. I want you to know I’m sorry I didn’t realize you were sick. I’m sorry I didn’t take care of you better.”

“Cal, it’s not—”

“Let me finish, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I love you, Jess. I love you more than anyone I’ve ever known. But I don’t think I can be with you until I figure some things out.”

Heart pounding with dread, I make myself ask, “And if you can’t?”

He sniffs again. “I will. Because I don’t want to lose you.”

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