Page 51 of Last First Love
"Oh, I'm going back tomorrow." I give him a little tiny smile and turn away slightly, even as I hope that he's going to stop talking. Because here's the thing, I don't want him to talk to me or make awkward conversation. I don't feel like making the effort to make small talk with a stranger.
I would absolutely kill to have the chance to talk to someone from home right now. Someone who didn't want to chat me up or ask me questions that I don't feel like answering. Somebody who knows me and doesn't have to be polite all the time.
I go ahead and pull up my list of contacts, thinking perhaps I'll text someone or even fake a phone call to avoid any further interaction with the person sitting at my table. I have so many regrets about letting this guy sit down right now that it's actually a little bit awful of me.
But even as I'm planning my big fake telephone related emergency, my phone lights up with a number marked Girl Club. It's a local area code, but it's definitely not Darcy or Riddles, because both of those numbers are already in my phone. Well this has to be good.
"Hello? Is this Lily?" I can't place the voice on the other end of the phone call, but if the woman is calling from a number in my phone as Girl Club, she's got to be a safe person.
"It's me. Who is this?" I sort of half-whisper the question because I don't want the random stranger next to me figuring out I'm on the phone with a random stranger, especially when I've been fairly actively snubbing him.
"This is your wake up call." I lift the phone away and stare at it for a moment. It's early evening here, and the crowds are thick with people heading home from work or out to dinner. It's definitely not the time of day that I associate with the idea of a wake up call.
"Is this some kind of prank? Did one of the girls put you up to this?" My voice rises and I must sound angry enough that I actually manage to scare the random stranger next to me into getting up and skittering off to safety. He gives me a quick glance as he departs and mutters something, but I'm frankly a little bit glad he left without me having to ask him to stop talking to me.
I put my feet up on the other chair in celebration. "Listen, you'd better quit with the cryptic baloney and give me some real answers. Who is this and why are you calling me?"
She sighs heavily. "Fine. You kids never have any sense of theatrics anymore. This is Opal Marie Hopf and I'm calling to tell you that you need to get back here to Valentine and deal with your life."
I make a little shrieking noise and a few of the people nearest me glance over and then away at my outburst. Well, good to know I could literally scream in the middle of broad daylight in New York City and not have anyone rushing to my aid. Assholes.
"You want to explain how you got ahold of my number? Also, what do you mean I have to come back to Valentine to deal with my life? I am on vacation here." The last words definitely come out more like a feral sounding hiss than I expected. Well, it looks like she brings out the worst in me. What can I say?
"Listen dear, don't be ridiculous. I'm calling you from Delilah's cell phone. I filched it out of her purse when she and the Hot Rookie came over for dinner with their precious little one." Her voice is so gooey with love for that little kid that it makes something squeeze in my own throat.
I want it. Badly. All of it. I want the marriage to the hot guy, and the little kid that my favorite relative gets all crazy over. But all I've found in the big city is a twenty-four hour pizza place with a guy at the counter who flirts with everyone. I like to pretend like he means it when he calls me sweetheart, but I've heard him call literally every other woman in the place that too. Most likely, he only means it in a general love for humanity kind of way.
Probably all for the best since he's like half my age. Also, I am still completely hung up on a certain ridiculously hot, completely over the top firefighter in my teeny tiny hometown. Yeah, there's also that.
"What if I don't want to come home?" The words sound a little bitter, and that's because I feel bitter. Why haven't any of my so-called friends called me even once to check up on me?
I mean, they totally have, but only to ask about the city, the interviews, and what all I'm doing. They've never once mentioned anything about Daniels and whether he misses me, which is what a real friend would do. No matter that I told them not to utter his name to me ever again.
They should have known better.
"You don't mean that." Her voice is warm and sweet and cajoling. Like that grandma who coaxes you into eating one more cookie even though you're completely stuffed from dinner.
“I might."
"You don't, dear. I can tell by your voice that you're already unhappy, and you're supposed to be living it up on vacation. If you're not enjoying yourself, it's because you have some unfinished business here in Valentine."
A long, heavy pause fills the line. The murmur of the crowd swells around us, then I sigh. "I'm coming back tomorrow. You're right. It's time."
I can hear the smile in her voice when she finally speaks again. "Well, now that our business is all settled, tell me some nice things you've seen in New York City."
I tell her about Broadway and the Statue of Liberty and Chinatown, but only a few minutes into my story about Central Park, she interrupts me.
"Look, that's fine and everything but I want to hear about Times Square."
I look around. "Umm, I'm sitting there right now."
"What?" Her squawking voice hurts my ear enough that I have to switch to the other side. "Well what are you doing?"
I frown a little. Why does she sound so urgent about this? "I'm having some churros. There's a little place here that makes them fresh for you and you can pick your sauce. This spicy chocolate is to die for."
"No, no. You're doing it all wrong." Aunt Opal sounds downright pissed, but why?
"What do you have against spicy chocolate? I tried the salted caramel yesterday, but the chocolate just goes better. I'm not in charge of that kind of stuff."
