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Show Motherlunge a novel 98 "Ouch!" Eli laughed. "Cassie took my chips! She's the biggest cheater. And bitch. A poker bitch. But that's great you made it, Thea. Yeah. " "Well, I fly back tomorrow," I said quickly. "See you soon." "Hey-okay. Miss you." His voice got softer as the background music got louder, just as unimaginative pop songs end by repeating the refrain into infinity as if tagged DNR, Do Not Resuscitate, a recursive decrescendo unto death and the next song. "Bye." I said, "Miss you," I said quickly and hung up. I had angina-like pain in my chest and a thumb that was still bleeding when I took it out of my mouth to look at it. I called Pavia next. There was no answer. The answering machine picked up and I was reminded that it still had the old message on it. It was Jack's voice, deploying the hale-and-hearty tone he used at work, upbeat about his absence and eager to return my call. I thought about calling Jack at his new place just to say hi, but I didn't have his number. I was sitting in the kitchen; in those days Walter didn't have a cordless phone and so I had a chair pulled up next to the phone in the wall. The twisted cord in my lap felt like some kind of diseased body part; a blocked intestine? A varicose vein? A failed umbilicus? Who else could I call? I heard Walter, asleep, turn over on the couch in the living room. I reached out and pulled a picture frame out of the bookcase next to my chair. |
