Page 50 of Lies and Lullabies
It got quiet, and for a moment I could almost hear my own thoughts. Just when I was beginning to relax, the blast of a Hollywood explosion tore through me.
I sat up fast, nearly bumping my head. Pushing the curtains aside, I slipped to the floor and stomped up the aisle. “Could you turn that fucking thing down?”
Two faces turned in my direction, each one reflecting mild surprise.
Yes, I’m about to lose my shit, here. Thank you for noticing.
They turned back to the screen, but Nixon reached for the remote, and a few seconds later the sounds of faux brutality dimmed somewhat.
I went back to my bunk and put on a pair of noise-canceling headphones. But now I’d have to hold my phone in my hand, in case Kira finally called me back. If I couldn’t hear the ring, at least I’d feel the vibration.
And where was she? The silence was killing me.
It had been six days since my life blew up bigger than the blasts on my friends’ movie screen. And every hour that Kira avoided me left me feeling lower than the hour before.
One thing was clear. If I’d had the balls to answer Kira’s letter five years ago, this could have been avoided. I’d have a daughter who knew my name. And possibly a wife.
I’d had a chance at something real, and I’d blown it. Spectacularly. I’d let Kira think that I didn’t care. And all because I was afraid to put my heart on the line.
All I’d had to do was pick up the phone. And everything would have been different.
There would still have been difficult conversations, I reminded myself. When she’d discovered she was pregnant, I would have panicked for sure. And maybe wrecked everything.
But maybe not. And now I’d never know.
My phone vibrated.
Ripping off the headphones, I craned my neck to read the screen.
FLASH SALE! Up to 40% off brand name amps and pedals!
Fucking email. I dropped my head back onto the pillow. Then, because I couldn’t help myself, I tapped Kira’s phone number, dialing her.Again.
It went straight to voicemail.Do not pass Go, do not collect proof of her existence.
This was getting a little ridiculous, right? I’d been trying to give her a few days to get over the shock of seeing me. But my bus would arrive in Boston in forty-eight hours. And if she wouldn’t take my calls, how was I going to arrange to see her?
It was time for the nuclear option.
I pulled up her brother’s phone number and tapped it. Adam’s phone rang, at least. “Hello?” he answered tentatively.
“Adam, this is Jonas Smith,” I said. “How are you doing?”
“Fine, thank you.” His voice was cool. “But I think it’s best if you communicate through your lawyer for the time being.”
“My lawyer? What the hell for?”
There was a pause before Adam spoke again. “Jonas, you need to talk to your lawyer. Because he’s asking Kira for things that make it difficult for her to take your call right now. You can’t have it both ways.”
“What? I’m not asking foranything.”
“If that’s true, then you need to have your lawyer call me,” Adam said.
Then he hung up.
I stared at my phone for a second, wondering what the hell had just happened. Then I slid off my bunk and ran to the rear of the bus, past the stainless-steel kitchen with its shiny glass tiles. Past the tiny marble bathroom. Past each ridiculous show of opulence that some clown had decided belonged on a bus.
Instead of knocking on the door to the rear lounge, I slid it open and burst inside. “Ethan?”
