I’m confused. I kept my mind blank while I drove. I didn’t know where I was going. He thought I was at home, in New York. I’m not.
So I left my rental beach house, hopped into my heap-of-junk-of-a-car and drove. Paying absolutely no attention to anything, blank.
I wasn’t the only one who quit the relationship. He quit too right? I couldn’t remember right now. Something in my sock was making my foot itch. I want to see him.
My phone rang again at the next stoplight. I picked up and said my greeting.
“Where are you?” The reception was scratchy and his voice deeper, with no break lines like it used to be. Back when we were so young. Such fools. We are all such fools.
“I’m in California.” He, of course, was in his Florida vaca house. I almost smiled.
This was a long ass red light.
“What? Why? How are we going to meet?” He never used to ask so many questions at once.
“You tell me,” I said. The light turned green and I accelerated.