“Oh, yeah.” Lifting my head, I run my hands through my hair, tugging on the ends. “But what if . . .” Not able to stomach the rest of that thought, I can’t find the words to bring it to life.
“Hey.” Tim calls my attention away from my dead stare at the table. “Listen. Is he any good at his job?”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I clip. “Of course he is. He’s the best out there. Smart, careful. Don’t you dare–”
“No, Grace,” he interrupts. “What I mean is if he’s good at his job, the best in the field as you say he is, then you can’t waste your energy worrying about what might happen.” The knot of tension in my gut loosens a touch as he continues. “If you spend your life worrying about what could be, you’ll never leave yourself enough time to enjoy what is.”
His words need no contemplation. Their raw honesty hits me in the face with a revelation I should have been able to come to on my own. Because he’s right. Every second I worry about not having David in my life, about something happening to him, is a second I waste not loving the fact that he is in my life in a very real and loving way.
“I’m sorry for overreacting.” Offering him a lame smile, he accepts my apology. “Smart man,” I say, tapping the side of my head. “Where’d you read that one?”
Tim shakes his head. “That one’s all mine.”
“It’s good. You should hang it in your room or something,” I suggest.
“It’s painted on the wall actually. And it’s our room.” He smiles warmly at me, tipping his head at the clock. “Now hurry up. We don’t want to be late coming back from lunch.”
The rest of the day passes by in a blur. Nervousness and anxiety over not receiving a text from David when the test is over pulls my focus away from everything.
At three o’clock, we finally wrap up our last session. After sending an email to Principal Gallagher, outlining our progress, we all leave the building. The midafternoon sun is blinding and it’s broiling hot out. I make a mental note to schedule an appointment to have an auto-start installed in the car. It would be nice to walk into an already cooled-down car, but for now, I’ll have to deal with the scorching heat.
When I turn the key in the ignition, nothing happens. “Oh, great,” I groan over the rather horrid noise of my engine grinding. For whatever reason, call it morbid curiosity, I try turning the key again. Not shockingly, it still doesn’t work. Resting my head against the steering wheel, I curse the car gods.
It’s not much cooler outside of the car, but sitting in the car, burning the backs of my legs on the leather, is fairly stupid on my part. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I lean up against the closed door. Punching out a quick text, I eagerly await David’s reply.
Five minutes pass in radio silence. After another text, worry starts in.
Only hours after voicing my concerns about something happening to David and he’s not answering. Piece by fragile piece, it feels as if the ground is falling out from below me. Taking a few deep breaths, I manage to calm myself enough to put a logical thought together. Jade’s phone goes right to voicemail and so does Ian’s.
What the hell is going on?
It’s possible that he was called on for another shift after his test and he hasn’t had a chance to let me know yet. Or he could have been in an accident on his way home.
Sitting here thinking about it isn’t helping at all. All it’s doing is letting my mind fill with all the possibilities, each one more grave than the last.
Figuring that I’m rendering myself useless by leaning up against a car which won’t start, I pull up the number to a taxi service. Just as the other end picks up, Tim’s car pulls alongside my dead one. “Can you hold on, please?” I ask as someone answers my call.
Turning toward Tim, I huff in frustration as his passenger window slides down. “Can you give me a lift?”
“Of course,” he answers happily.
“Thanks, but I’m good now, actually,” I dismiss the taxi man.
“Where to, Miss Daisy?” Tim tips his imaginary hat, reaching over to the passenger door and opening it for me.
“Thank you.” Sighing, I slide into the seat and wipe the sweat dripping from my brow. “The freaking thing won’t start.”
“Luckily for you I forgot something inside. Otherwise you would have melted out here in the blacktop wasteland.” His jokes become slightly funnier as the cool air in the car washes over me. “Maybe it’s not as bad as you think. Let me take a look.”
Before I can protest, saying that I’ll have it towed and taken care of later, he’s out the door and opening the hood of my car. Since I know nothing about cars, I mean other than where to put the key and the whole gas on the right and brake on the left thing, I can’t really tell if Tim knows what he’s doing.
I’m too busy sending out more texts to David and calling him that I don’t even see Tim hook up the jump cables to our cars. In fact, I’m so distracted I don’t even realize he’s run up to his classroom, retrieved the books he needed, and returned to the car until the door slams shut.
“So, looks like the battery wasn’t the problem,” he says, sliding into the seat.
“Huh?” I blurt, looking up from my silent phone.
He tips his head at my car sitting in front of us. Not running.
“Your car. You know the thing that goes vroom vroom, drives you places.” Waving a hand in front of my face, he makes sure my eyes are working. “Looks like you’re going to have to have it towed after all. Want me to give you a ride home?”
One last look at my phone and still no responses from anyone. “Please. That would be really nice of you.”
It’s a quiet fifteen minute ride back to my apartment. Even as Tim’s car pulls into the spot usually reserved for me, I can’t tear my focus away from my still silent phone. “Hey,” he says, concerned. Covering my hand with his, he squeezes gently before letting go. “Everything’s fine. Maybe his test ran late. Or he’s stuck in traffic or something like that. There’s no need–”
Twisting in my seat to face him, I sigh, rolling my eyes. “To get worked up over something I don’t know anything about. I know,” I finish his thought for him, taking a deep cleansing breath. “Thanks for the ride. I really appreciate it.” Swallowing back the rising emotion, my throat feels thick. What if something really did happen to him? It’s a feeling I just can’t seem to shake. Pushing past my own restraint, a tear rolls down my cheek.
Seemingly without thinking about it, Tim wipes away the tear with his thumb, holding my cheek and jaw in the process. The entire exchange is far too familiar, and not at all the kind of friendship I need right now.
All it does it make me think of David and wonder why the hell he’s not calling me back.
“No problem. Talk to you soon.” We make plans to meet up at least once more before the school year starts to get the room all situated and then I step out of the car.
Walking toward my door, I promise myself not to think the worst. Pushing it open, my eyes are glued to my phone and I don’t even realize what’s going on around me.
The kitchen table to my left is set as if it belongs in the finest restaurant. David is sitting on the couch in front of me, two glasses of untouched champagne waiting on the coffee table.
When my eyes settle on his, relief like I’ve never known washes over me. Rushing to his side, as fast as I can, I nearly stumble over the edge of the area rug. “David,” I cry. “My God, I was so worried. What are you doing here?” My hands race all over his chest searching for anything at all that might be wrong with him. Sure, my imagination is getting the best of me, but I’ve had well over an hour and a half of creating the worst case scenario in my head.
“What am I doing here?” he seethes. “How about what was he doing here?”