| Chapter Thirty-two |
| By the end of the year, Grace’s life was seemingly perfect. She’d been promoted at work, finally moving up from assistant to junior planner. She still shadowed Sandra, but instead of running errands, she was expected to contribute to pitch meetings and actually coordinate parts of each event. It was time consuming, but she loved every minute of it.
She barely had time for anyone. She hadn’t spent much time with Mindy except for the occasional shopping trip in which Mindy blew her entire check and Grace responsibly bought one reasonably priced item. She no longer had lunch with Lynn each week, which Lynn of course understood. “You focus on your work, honey,” Lynn said when Grace cancelled their third lunch date. The only person she saw regularly was Eric. Her new job meant that she no longer visited the accounting department frequently, and they barely interacted at work, but each night when they weren’t working, he showed up on her doorstep, takeout and an assortment of baked goodies in hand. They usually spent the night watching the horrible sci-fi movies he loved until she was too tired to keep her eyes open. At that point, he’d kiss her cheek and murmur, “Go to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow,” before he let himself out and locked the door with the key she’d given him. It was after once such night that Grace found herself in bed, woken up by the annoying sound of her cell phone. She threw the comforter over her head, hoping to block out the sound, but it continued, determined to drive her crazy. From the corner of her eye, she peered at her alarm clock. Through a foggy hazy, she made out 4:12 a.m. “What in the …,” she grumbled, blindly fumbling for her phone. She knocked over a tissue box and a book in the process, but she finally snapped her phone open, “Hello.” Her voice was angry and annoyed. “Oh wow, did I wake you?” Without realizing it, Grace sat up straight in bed, her spine as straight as an arrow. For someone who couldn’t do a single sit up, the motion was impressive. Even after all these months, she recognized his voice immediately. “Justin?” “Hey Grace,” he said. “Sorry to wake you.” She heard the faint sounds of music in the background, “Where are you? Is everything okay?” The last part came out sounding more panicked that she intended. She was already mentally going over all the possible reasons for this call. “Is it Lynn? Is she all right?” “Mom’s fine. Everyone’s ok.” “Where are you,” she repeated, remembering the last time she’d been called at 4 in the morning. She certainly hoped Justin didn’t expect her to bail him out of jail like she’d done for her cousin Louise. “Umm…I’m in London actually,” he paused for a moment, “I forgot about the time difference.” “Oh.” She waited for him to say more. To explain why he’d woke her up the middle of the night. Why he was calling after all this time. But he was quiet. “Justin? Are you still there?” “Yeah, I’m here,” he rushed out, his voice was flustered, “Look, I’m sorry I called. I’ll let you get back to bed.” “No!” Grace clamped her mouth shut, realizing with great embarrassment that she’d shouted her protest. She waited a moment and listened for any signs of Mindy. When it was obvious that her roommate was still asleep, she said in a much lower tone, “Justin, why did you call?” She heard him take a deep breath, the way he often did before he was going to say something important, as though he was steeling himself against what was to come. It was for that reason she was disappointed when all he said was. “I don’t know.” “Oh.” After months of easy conversation with Eric, she’d forgotten the way her brain no longer formed full sentences when she talked to Justin. She chewed on her bottom lip, waiting for him to say something, anything. When he didn’t, she decided to say the first thing that came to mind. “So London, huh?” She could practically hear him smile, probably relieved that she was no longer questioning his reasons for calling. “Yeah, I’ve been here for about three months. On and off.” It was on the tip of her tongue to say that she already knew, but she didn’t want to come right out and admit her stalker tendencies. Besides, it would only enlarge his ego. “That sounds like fun.” “It is.” This time it was his turn to keep the conversation going. “I heard about your new job. Congrats.” She should have known that Lynn would be keeping him up to date. “Thanks. It’s really fun.” She closed her eyes, embarrassed by how stupid she sounded. Did she have to describe everything as “fun”? Was she a five year old? “So you like it then?” “Yeah, it’s great. Did I tell you about my promotion? I make a whole two dollars more. I can now afford to supersize my meals.” She shook her head, suddenly learning that at four in the morning her brain wasn’t exactly sharp. He laughed benevolently at her rather dumb joke. “Really? That much? I knew I was in the wrong line of work.” “You wouldn’t last,” she said with a smile, “They expect you to get up before noon, and actually do work.” “Good point. I take back what I said. I was made for a life of leisure.” He sounded so relax as he said the last statement that she could almost picture him reclining on a sofa, propping his feet up. “Like an English aristocrat,” she paused for dramatic effect, “or one of those guys who lives in his mom’s basement.” This time his laugh was real, and just as overly loud as she remembered. “I see you haven’t changed.” For some reason, hearing him say that made her giddy. She liked that he remembered things about her. The thought reminded her of something he’d said. On the runway, when he’d said goodbye, she remembered the look in his eyes as he told her that she’d be hard to forget. The memory of that day stopped her cold, and she no longer felt like joking around. He must have noticed her sudden change in mood, “Grace? Are you still there?” She sighed, resigned to do what she’d only moments ago feared he’d do, “Yeah, I’m here, but I just realized that I should get some sleep. I have a busy day tomorrow, and I’m really tired.” “Yeah. Sure. I’m sorry I woke you.” “Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind,” and even as she wanted desperately to end the conversation, she couldn’t hide the truth in what she’d said. No matter what, she’d always be happy to hear from him. “Good night.” His voice was soft and unsure. “’Night.” She woke up the next morning feeling as though she hadn’t slept a wink. Her body was achy all over and her head throbbed. She was almost certain that she’d made up the whole thing. In truth, a part of her wished it wasn’t real. After two days passed without another call, she was almost certain that he wouldn’t call again, but on the third day, her phone rang. This time at a more respectable 1am. Until the moment when she heard her ringtone, she hadn’t realized how desperately she wanted him to call. Despite everything, she didn’t want him to give up so easily. Her heart beat rapidly as she answered. She tried to play it casual but knew that he could sense her anxiety. He apologized for calling so late again. He didn’t explain why he hadn’t phoned the last two days, and some part of her knew that her response to the first call had something to do with it. It took a few moments of uneasiness, but eventually, they slipped back into conversation. They talked for almost a half hour about nothing of any importance. They mostly talked about what they’d done in the last few days, which weren’t exactly thrilling stories. He’d been locked in a recording studio, and she’d been picking out centerpieces with a temperamental bride. But even as they talked, Grace could fight the feeling that it felt nice to share things with him even if it was nothing more than a fight she’d had about confetti. She ended the conversation again by telling him she needed sleep. This time she didn’t feel the same need to escape, but even though she wasn’t looking for a way out, she was glad to have one. He sounded relieved too, sounding as though he was also apprehensive about what they were doing. It was for that reason that Grace couldn’t understand why he kept calling. It wasn't as if he called with any regularity. For the first few weeks, his calls were sporadic. He called on a Saturday during the afternoon and then again during the evening the next Thursday. There never seemed to be rhyme nor reason to his calls. He never had anything to discuss or some problem he needed help with. He just wanted to talk. At one point, she did ask him about it, but when, in her normal caustic manner, she asked if he was that hard up for friends, his simple response had been, "Good friends are hard to come by." She didn't press the issue again. Besides, on some level it made sense for him to reach out. How many times had he told her about his lonely life on the road? She'd always known that he dreaded the day he'd leave behind his friends and family. She knew it must be hard for him especially now that he was in another country, and his traveling buddy, Trace, had fallen hard for a local woman whose side he refused to leave. It hurt her heart knowing that he was felt so lonely, but even so, she secretly enjoyed that he'd thought of her. Of course, she wasn't about to read too much into it. That would only cause trouble. Her own motivations were harder to understand especially when she'd been the one to push him away, but she suspected that her thoughts were similar to his. Even though she was still in the same place with the same people, not to mention a boyfriend she adored, she had never been able to shake the feeling that something was missing. Although she'd never admitted it, the feeling she got when she listened to Justin's voice confirmed what she'd long suspected. She'd missed him. Despite it all, they were both dancing around any uncomfortable topics, keeping their conversations free of anything that could bring up old memories. They teased and joked with each other as they'd always done, and they did their best to pretend as though everything was perfectly normal. As though they'd never pushed their friendship to a point where it became weird and complicated. But despite their best efforts, it was always there with them. The knowledge that the anonymity of the phone was the only reason they could talk to each other now. As the days passed, and slowly, in the most natural of progressions, they began to open up to each other, and for the first time in a long time, she felt like his friend. He must have felt the same way because although she could tell her was a bundle of nerves, he offered to play his new music for her. "I want to know what you think," he said with more earnestness than she'd ever heard from him. She listened to each one, offering her honest opinion. Luckily, most of the time, the things she said were favorable, but even in those rare occasions when she said something critical, he took her words to heart. She liked the idea that her opinion mattered to him. They talked about everything under the sun. From his music to her work to the best hamburgers they'd ever had. She even told him about Eric. It took her longer than it should have, but when the truth finally came out, he took it all in stride. He asked her a few questions about how they met and how long they’d been together but didn’t push for more information. “I’m glad you found someone,” he said before changing the subject abruptly. She didn't mention Eric much after that, but she didn't ignore him either. She felt like it was a stepping stone in both relationships when she was able to tell Justin that she couldn't talk to him because she had plans with Eric. Maybe resusitating her friendship with Justin was what she'd needed in order finally devote herself to Eric. No more what ifs. Or so she thought until Justin went and ruined it all. She was in her apartment, catching up on laundry. She still had another hour before she expected Eric to arrive with dinner. She was folding towels when the phone rang. She expected it to be Eric, so she was caught off guard when she heard Justin’s voice. “Hey Gracie.” “Justin?” She hadn't expected to hear from him. . He laughed awkwardly, “Yeah, it’s me. Were you busy?” She looked at the stack of towels in front of her and the TV currently playing some rerun she was only halfheartedly watching. “Not really.” He breathed a sigh of relief. “Good.” There was a pause, and for a moment, Grace thought he’d hung up. “Do you mind if I come up? It’ll be just for a moment.” She stared to say that it wasn’t a good idea but stopped when she realized what he’d said. “Come up? Where are you?” He did his awkward laugh again. “Don’t think I’m stalking you, but I’m downstairs.” |