That’s what the annoying noise was.
“Hey, guys,” she croaked. “Get the phone.”
It kept ringing.
“Kaylie? Matt? Michael? Anyone?” she asked louder.
No response.
Fine.
She picked up the handset half covered by one of her pillows. “Hello?”
“Jane?”
“Yeah,” she admitted grudgingly, still sleepy, but chilled now. Her dimly lit bedroom was the furthest thing from the sunny heat of the beach.
“It’s Tim.”
Her stomach did a little flip, and she bit her lip. “Hi,” she said and left it at that.
“Uh, I was wondering…you haven’t returned any of my calls since you checked out my apartment. Is something wrong? Did I do something—or not do something?”
Jane changed positions carefully, turning to lie flat on her back, and stared up at the ceiling. Little trickles of salt water ran from the outside corners of her eyes, down her cheeks, and into her ears—an icky feeling that made her tears flow harder. “Nothing’s wrong.”
“Are you sure? Are you all right? You sound a bit—”
“I’m coming down with a cold.”
“Oh, OK, then. Well, if you’re going to that tea thing of Sarah’s today, I’d love to accompany you. I’ll drive, and maybe we could hang out afterwards?”
Right. Sarah’s celebration tea. It was today. How had that day arrived so quickly anyway? Where was time going?
“I guess.”
“Don’t sound so enthusiastic. It might go straight to my head.”
Despite herself, Jane chuckled—a dried up, out of practice sound. “Sorry. Sorry. It’s definitely me, not you.”
“Uh huh,” Tim said. “That’s what all the pretty girls say.”
“Oh, is that what I am to you? A pretty girl?” She’d meant to sound teasing, but the question came out strangely serious.
Tim’s tone matched hers. “Actually, uh, about that…I’m happy you brought it up. I’ve been wanting to talk about what you are to me for a while now.”
Butterflies swarmed Jane’s stomach. Happy nerves or dread? She wasn’t sure. “You have?”
“Yeah,” Tim’s voice was so quiet, Jane strained to hear it. “Maybe we can talk after Sarah’s thing?”
“OK,” she said. “Yeah.”
After they hung up, she looked for something to wear and finally settled on a dress with a long, loose-fitting shrug—not her usual sporty wear, but less constrictive on her arm. If they had to have an awkward ‘where they stood with each other’ conversation, she might as well be comfortable.
She was watching for Tim and when he pulled into the driveway she hurried out to meet him.
He was already out of the car and walked around the side of the car to open her door for her.
“You look lovely,” he said. “Different, though.”
“Yeah, me in a dress. Write it on a calendar.”
“The softness suits you.”
Jane rolled her eyes and snapped into her seatbelt, one handed. She really was becoming more adept. It wasn’t just her imagination.
“Do you need help with that?” Tim asked as he slid into the driver’s seat and then spotted the burgundy strap that crossed her chest. “Ah, I see not.”
“You sound disappointed.”
“Can you blame me? I’d have an excuse to get nice and close.”
Jane snorted. “I don’t know if I’m flattered or irritated by that comment.”
“Go with flattered.”
“All right. I’m flattered.”
“Excellent.” Tim grinned and glanced over his shoulder as he backed out of the driveway.
“What are you wearing?” Jane asked as they walked toward the big glass doors of the church.
Tim raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know. You tell me.”
“A drumming t-shirt.”
His grin broadened, and she noticed the eye tooth on his left side stuck out just a little bit further than its brothers, overlapping the lateral incisor beside it just a smidge. Jane loved the tiny irregularity.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she said. “What does your shirt say?”
“Guess.”
She shook her head. “No idea.”
“Try.”
“Hmmm…How about
“Hey, guys,” she croaked. “Get the phone.”
It kept ringing.
“Kaylie? Matt? Michael? Anyone?” she asked louder.
No response.
Fine.
She picked up the handset half covered by one of her pillows. “Hello?”
“Jane?”
“Yeah,” she admitted grudgingly, still sleepy, but chilled now. Her dimly lit bedroom was the furthest thing from the sunny heat of the beach.
“It’s Tim.”
Her stomach did a little flip, and she bit her lip. “Hi,” she said and left it at that.
“Uh, I was wondering…you haven’t returned any of my calls since you checked out my apartment. Is something wrong? Did I do something—or not do something?”
Jane changed positions carefully, turning to lie flat on her back, and stared up at the ceiling. Little trickles of salt water ran from the outside corners of her eyes, down her cheeks, and into her ears—an icky feeling that made her tears flow harder. “Nothing’s wrong.”
“Are you sure? Are you all right? You sound a bit—”
“I’m coming down with a cold.”
“Oh, OK, then. Well, if you’re going to that tea thing of Sarah’s today, I’d love to accompany you. I’ll drive, and maybe we could hang out afterwards?”
Right. Sarah’s celebration tea. It was today. How had that day arrived so quickly anyway? Where was time going?
“I guess.”
“Don’t sound so enthusiastic. It might go straight to my head.”
Despite herself, Jane chuckled—a dried up, out of practice sound. “Sorry. Sorry. It’s definitely me, not you.”
“Uh huh,” Tim said. “That’s what all the pretty girls say.”
“Oh, is that what I am to you? A pretty girl?” She’d meant to sound teasing, but the question came out strangely serious.
Tim’s tone matched hers. “Actually, uh, about that…I’m happy you brought it up. I’ve been wanting to talk about what you are to me for a while now.”
Butterflies swarmed Jane’s stomach. Happy nerves or dread? She wasn’t sure. “You have?”
“Yeah,” Tim’s voice was so quiet, Jane strained to hear it. “Maybe we can talk after Sarah’s thing?”
“OK,” she said. “Yeah.”
After they hung up, she looked for something to wear and finally settled on a dress with a long, loose-fitting shrug—not her usual sporty wear, but less constrictive on her arm. If they had to have an awkward ‘where they stood with each other’ conversation, she might as well be comfortable.
She was watching for Tim and when he pulled into the driveway she hurried out to meet him.
He was already out of the car and walked around the side of the car to open her door for her.
“You look lovely,” he said. “Different, though.”
“Yeah, me in a dress. Write it on a calendar.”
“The softness suits you.”
Jane rolled her eyes and snapped into her seatbelt, one handed. She really was becoming more adept. It wasn’t just her imagination.
“Do you need help with that?” Tim asked as he slid into the driver’s seat and then spotted the burgundy strap that crossed her chest. “Ah, I see not.”
“You sound disappointed.”
“Can you blame me? I’d have an excuse to get nice and close.”
Jane snorted. “I don’t know if I’m flattered or irritated by that comment.”
“Go with flattered.”
“All right. I’m flattered.”
“Excellent.” Tim grinned and glanced over his shoulder as he backed out of the driveway.
“What are you wearing?” Jane asked as they walked toward the big glass doors of the church.
Tim raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know. You tell me.”
“A drumming t-shirt.”
His grin broadened, and she noticed the eye tooth on his left side stuck out just a little bit further than its brothers, overlapping the lateral incisor beside it just a smidge. Jane loved the tiny irregularity.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she said. “What does your shirt say?”
“Guess.”
She shook her head. “No idea.”
“Try.”
“Hmmm…How about
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