(writing) Phone call

So, I have to admit that sometimes my brain works in weird ways…  Sometimes, it expresses itself in a flash story.  Like this one.

 

Of course, the phone rang while he was working.

 

He sighed and let it ring, knowing who it probably was. She had a talent for calling at exactly the wrong time, and since his job required concentration, he rarely answered. He’d listen to the voicemail later, between assignments.

 

After five minutes of blessed peace, the phone rang again. He swore, shifted one hand so he could tap his earpiece. “This better be important,” he told her.

 

“Oh crap, are you out on call tonight?” Her voice sounded contrite. She was good at contrite. Then again, his schedule wasn’t that fixed, so he couldn’t blame her. “I’m sorry, I thought you were in the office.”

 

“Yeah, three assignments.” He shifted as the package moved beneath his legs. “It’s okay, though. What’s up?”

 

“Can you pick up eggs on the way home? Sam’s got a bake sale at school and of course, he neglected to tell me. I made cupcakes, but we have no eggs for breakfast.”

 

The package shifted again, and he sighed. “Hang on a second, Cass.” Then he picked the pillow up and stared down at the package lying on the bed. “Do you mind?” he asked. “I’m trying to talk to my wife. Please stop moving – it’s very rude.”

 

The man looked up at him with terrified eyes and mumbled something, but with the duct tape over his mouth, he couldn’t make out words. He took it for assent and replaced the pillow over the package, leaning down firmly. “Just eggs?”

 

“Well, if your assignments take you by the 24-hour Safeway, you could get bacon too,” she said. “But if not, the eggs are the big thing. You know how Sam is if he doesn’t have his strangled eggs in the morning.”

 

He chuckled at the family joke – his son hadn’t been able to say scrambled when he was younger, and the name had stuck. “I’ll have to look,” he said. “I’m almost done here – maybe five more minutes.” The package jerked beneath him, and he pressed the pillow down even harder. “My appointment book is out in the car. I’ll text you and let you know if I’m heading that way.”

 

“Sounds good.” She paused and then said, “No messy jobs tonight, right? I hate washing your work clothes when you have to get messy.”

 

“I wore my coveralls,” he said. “Don’t worry.”

 

“Oh, good.” Her voice sounded tired. “How late do you think you’ll be?”

 

“Don’t wait up. I’ll try not to wake you.”

 

“Be careful.” She blew a kiss into the phone. “I love you.”

 

“I love you too.”

 

The package gave one final shudder and sank back into the bed. He held the pillow for a minute longer, just to make sure, and then he climbed down, dusted his gloved hands off, and let himself out the back door.

 

There were two more assignments before he could get the eggs, after all.

Originally published at The words of Valerie Griswold-Ford. You can comment here or there.