Page 38 of Finding Jack
JACK: Cool. I’m just going to calmly saunter out of this conversation and go look up “Interesting Discussion Questions for Phone Conversations.”
EMILY: I’ll prepare some in-depth descriptions of our current weather.
And I signed off from the chat with the dumbest smile ever and went to condition my hair anyway.
Chapter 15
At 6:55 I was next to the balcony sliding glass door with my phone in my lap. That was where we got the best cell reception.
Would Jack call right at 7:00? Or would he wait a few minutes to try to play it cool? What would I do?
Call at 7:00. Definitely.
6:56.
6:57.
The door opened and Ranée walked in wearing her scrubby clothes and increasingly tattered Vans. Was that…? I squinted. “Why do you have straw on the bottom of your shoe again?”
She glanced down, plucked it off, and threw it in the trash on her way to the fridge. “That’s a boring story.”
6:58.
I held up my phone. “There’s an interesting story about why I’m sitting here waiting for my phone to ring. I’ll trade you my interesting story for your boring one.”
She cracked open a can of sparkling water and took a few huge guzzles. It was like watching a beer commercial parody. I half expected her to belch and smash her sparkling lime La Croix can on her head when she finished.
6:59.
“I’ll take that trade,” she said. “I’ve been volunteering at a horse barn.”
Whatever I expected, it wasn’t that. “In San Francisco.”
She nodded. “Yeah. It’s small, but there’s a stable near the equestrian course by Golden Gate Park. I help out.”
“With the horses?” I knew she’d ridden growing up in Nevada, but I hadn’t heard her talk much about it.
“No, with underprivileged kids.”
I couldn’t figure out why she hadn’t wanted to tell me about that. “Were you afraid I’d recognize you as the good person you are if you told me that’s what you’re up to?”
“No, of course not.”
7:00.
My phone rang with a Portland area code. I’d looked it up.
I help it up. “Sorry, but my interesting story is that Jack and I are going on a phone date right this second, and I need to take this.”
She grinned, and I turned away from her before I picked up the call so that my sudden nervous energy didn’t make me giggle.
“Hi,” I said. And then cursed myself for not thinking through the greeting first. “Hi” is what you said when your roommate or mom’s number came up, not when a number you didn’t know came up. Maybe I should have said, “This is Emily.” But no, that was too business-y. Or maybe, “Hello?” like—
Before I could spiral into any more self-doubt, a warm male voice said, “Emily? This is Jack.”
“Hi, Jack.” His voice was the perfect pitch, which I didn’t know I had an opinion about until I heard it. It wasn’t too deep or high, just a middle tone with…I didn’t know how to explain it. His voice was a perfect summer night. Or caramel apple dip.
“Are you someone who likes to have a guy show up with a date planned or do you like to be involved in choosing?” he asked.
