Chapter 30
Howie was so glad it was Friday, granted most of the time had been spent on a plane and it was not late evening, but it was ok, he could sleep in at least. Trudging into his house, he flipped the light on and stepped in, shutting the door and leaning heavily against it.
It felt good to be home, it felt good, but also lonely at the same time. He set his bags down in the living room and proceeded to take his coat, gloves and scarf off. Coming out of the airport, people had looked at him like he was crazy. He didn't care, he was too tired to stop and take off all the heavy winter clothes.
Damn, he forgot to check his mail, waving it off, he headed over to the answering machine. He was delighted to find eighty-six new messages. He pressed the play button, turning the volume up, grabbed his bags and started up to get undressed. Walking into his room, he dropped the bags and flopped down on the bed, his eyes heavy. He really needed to unpack, but didn't have the energy. He didn't have the energy to do anything but think of her.
No matter what he did, he could still see her, feel her. Why was he wasting his time? She wasn't interested anymore, she told him from the beginning how her life was and he was stupid to think that maybe after all they'd shared, there'd be room for him somewhere. She'd been exactly what he wanted in a woman. He'd been so close and yet she was still so out of reach.
Shaking his head, he stood, heading back down after stripping down to just his boxers, heading over to the answering machine. He really didn't care anymore, hitting the delete button; he erased the forty-six messages that remained and sat on the couch, grabbing the cordless from off the base next to him. He dialed quickly and waited.
"Hello?" Came the lightly accented voice.
"Hi Mom."
"Howie! You're home honey! How was the flight back?"
"It was ok, long and tiring."
"Glad to be home?"
He paused for a moment. "Yeah, yeah I am."
"It's so good to hear your voice, your father and I have really missed you. Did you want to talk to him?"
"Yeah, sure."
He spoke to his Dad for a few minutes before talking again to his Mom. He ended the call a short time later, promising to call again in the morning. After hanging up, he spread out on the couch, staring up at the ceiling.
It'd be wise for him to just forget her, forget that everything between them had happened. The dancing, the ballet and most importantly, that night. The night he'd lost his heart to her and the night she'd broken it.
He'd forget, he'd try, but he knew he wouldn't succeed.
