Status: [INDEFINITE HIATUS]
What Separates Me From You
Phone Calls
June 26th: San Antonio, TX
The thing I hate the most; Actually, the thing I hated next to the thing I hated the most of being on the road this summer was not being able to see my mother. (The first thing being Jeremy). My mother and I are surprisingly close. I think we grew closer after my father passed away. We were all each other had in the world which is why I called her every night after we packed up.
“No, mom. I’m fine.”
Pause.
“No. I’m not pregnant. No.”
Pause.
“Yes, I am staying away from alcohol. Yeah, I know. Ok. I love you too,” I said clicking the end button on my BlackBerry.
“So Greene,” a voice said from behind me.
I shoved my phone into my back pocket and turned to face a pleased looking Jeremy McKinnon. Someone had their happy pills today. I returned to the pile of shirts I was organizing into different boxes.
“Can I help you?” I asked.
Jeremy moved closer to me and leaned his hand on the table I was working at. Someone did not know the rule about personal space.
“I wanted to apologize for starting that food fight today,” he said.
“Oh ok,” I replied quickly, not bothering to look up from my work. I could feel him frowning at me and my disregard for his apology. I glanced at him briefly between folding a shirt and placing it into a box see a baffled expression on his face. I smiled on the inside.
He folded his arms over his chest, “Is there anything you would like to apologize for?”
“Hm,” I said frowning and folding my arms over my chest, pretending to honestly think about his question. I shrugged my shoulders and started to fold another shirt. “Nope; my conscience is clear.”
Jeremy’s mouth dropped a little, “Right, ok. Well, just wanted to say goodbye since it’ll be three days until we see each other.”
Thank God. I thought to myself.
“Yup. Bye Jeremy,” I said dismissively, not looking up from my work again.
But he still didn’t leave. Unfortunately.
“Not gonna miss me?” he asked.
“Huh?” I replied looking at him. “No, not really.”
About now, he looked a little irritated, obviously not the answer he was looking for. Not like it mattered to me. I wasn’t here to stroke anyone’s ego.
“That’s fine cause I’m not going to miss you either” he replied childishly. Obviously, he was going to miss me, for whatever reason. I wasn’t really giving lots of reasons to.
I let out an exhausted sigh and put the shirt I was working on back on the table, “Jeremy, it’s THREE days. You’ll survive.”
Jeremy blinked at me. He looked as if he were contemplating something in his head. Sometimes I wondered what really went on in that brain of his. Seeing that he didn’t have a response, I returned to my work. Maybe now he would leave. Several moments of silence later…
“Okay,,” Jeremy said as if he was getting tired of this conversation just as quickly as I was. “I’m going to skip all of the meaningless conversation and just jump to the question that it all builds up to-“
Joy I thought unenthusiastically.
“Can I have your number?”
I froze and gave him a look of disbelief, “Why?”
“I…I’ll need some way to contact you if our driver gets lost,” he replied.
“No,” I stated simply, returning to my work.
“I won’t prank you in Las Cruces,” he offered with a smile on his face.
I gave him a suspicious look. The offer seemed too good to be true, “Really?”
“Promise,” he replied crossing his heart.
Thinking that he had some honesty in him, I wrote my number on a slip of paper and handed it to him. Finally, Jeremy left.
Next Day: On the road to Las Cruces
On the road, I always tried to get as much sleep as I could cause I knew that I’d probably be up on my feet for a long period of time when we arrived in the city where the next event would take place. The trip to Las Cruces was three days long so I was excited to get some serious shut eye. But I was robbed of that when my phone started to ring.
Without glancing at the number, I answered my cell.
“Hello?” I said into the microphone.
“Hi, is this Olivia Greene?” a man’s voice asked.
I frowned, sitting up from the lying position I was in. Maybe it was someone from corporate.
“Yes. This is she,” I replied professionally.
“Hey!” the voice greeted enthusiastically. “It’s David!”
I didn’t know anyone by the name of David, “Um, David who?”
“David Samson? We met online last night. We talked for hours!”
I closed my eyes and rested my forehead against the palm of my free hand, “Um, what website did we meet on?”
“DivorcedSingleParents.com?” he replied as if it were an obvious answer.
“WHAT?!” I screamed into the phone. I hung up quickly, infuriated. This stunk of Jeremy. All I could think was Jeremy is going to get it in Las Cruces.
A few minutes later, my phone rang again. Still in a rage from the previous phone call, I answered my cell, “I am NOT a divorced single parent. Please do not call this number ever again.”
“Ah darn,” replied a familiar voice over the phone.
“JEREMY McKINNON!” I yelled.
Joey gave me a nervous glance through the rearview mirror. I waved my hand at him, assuring him that things were under control. He refocused on the road.
“How’s the husband hunt going, Greene?”
“Get RID of the account you made on that site, McKinnon.”
“Why? No luck yet?”
“McKinnon,” I warned.
“Ok, ok. Miss you too,” he said quickly before ending the call.
The thing I hate the most; Actually, the thing I hated next to the thing I hated the most of being on the road this summer was not being able to see my mother. (The first thing being Jeremy). My mother and I are surprisingly close. I think we grew closer after my father passed away. We were all each other had in the world which is why I called her every night after we packed up.
“No, mom. I’m fine.”
Pause.
“No. I’m not pregnant. No.”
Pause.
“Yes, I am staying away from alcohol. Yeah, I know. Ok. I love you too,” I said clicking the end button on my BlackBerry.
“So Greene,” a voice said from behind me.
I shoved my phone into my back pocket and turned to face a pleased looking Jeremy McKinnon. Someone had their happy pills today. I returned to the pile of shirts I was organizing into different boxes.
“Can I help you?” I asked.
Jeremy moved closer to me and leaned his hand on the table I was working at. Someone did not know the rule about personal space.
“I wanted to apologize for starting that food fight today,” he said.
“Oh ok,” I replied quickly, not bothering to look up from my work. I could feel him frowning at me and my disregard for his apology. I glanced at him briefly between folding a shirt and placing it into a box see a baffled expression on his face. I smiled on the inside.
He folded his arms over his chest, “Is there anything you would like to apologize for?”
“Hm,” I said frowning and folding my arms over my chest, pretending to honestly think about his question. I shrugged my shoulders and started to fold another shirt. “Nope; my conscience is clear.”
Jeremy’s mouth dropped a little, “Right, ok. Well, just wanted to say goodbye since it’ll be three days until we see each other.”
Thank God. I thought to myself.
“Yup. Bye Jeremy,” I said dismissively, not looking up from my work again.
But he still didn’t leave. Unfortunately.
“Not gonna miss me?” he asked.
“Huh?” I replied looking at him. “No, not really.”
About now, he looked a little irritated, obviously not the answer he was looking for. Not like it mattered to me. I wasn’t here to stroke anyone’s ego.
“That’s fine cause I’m not going to miss you either” he replied childishly. Obviously, he was going to miss me, for whatever reason. I wasn’t really giving lots of reasons to.
I let out an exhausted sigh and put the shirt I was working on back on the table, “Jeremy, it’s THREE days. You’ll survive.”
Jeremy blinked at me. He looked as if he were contemplating something in his head. Sometimes I wondered what really went on in that brain of his. Seeing that he didn’t have a response, I returned to my work. Maybe now he would leave. Several moments of silence later…
“Okay,,” Jeremy said as if he was getting tired of this conversation just as quickly as I was. “I’m going to skip all of the meaningless conversation and just jump to the question that it all builds up to-“
Joy I thought unenthusiastically.
“Can I have your number?”
I froze and gave him a look of disbelief, “Why?”
“I…I’ll need some way to contact you if our driver gets lost,” he replied.
“No,” I stated simply, returning to my work.
“I won’t prank you in Las Cruces,” he offered with a smile on his face.
I gave him a suspicious look. The offer seemed too good to be true, “Really?”
“Promise,” he replied crossing his heart.
Thinking that he had some honesty in him, I wrote my number on a slip of paper and handed it to him. Finally, Jeremy left.
Next Day: On the road to Las Cruces
On the road, I always tried to get as much sleep as I could cause I knew that I’d probably be up on my feet for a long period of time when we arrived in the city where the next event would take place. The trip to Las Cruces was three days long so I was excited to get some serious shut eye. But I was robbed of that when my phone started to ring.
Without glancing at the number, I answered my cell.
“Hello?” I said into the microphone.
“Hi, is this Olivia Greene?” a man’s voice asked.
I frowned, sitting up from the lying position I was in. Maybe it was someone from corporate.
“Yes. This is she,” I replied professionally.
“Hey!” the voice greeted enthusiastically. “It’s David!”
I didn’t know anyone by the name of David, “Um, David who?”
“David Samson? We met online last night. We talked for hours!”
I closed my eyes and rested my forehead against the palm of my free hand, “Um, what website did we meet on?”
“DivorcedSingleParents.com?” he replied as if it were an obvious answer.
“WHAT?!” I screamed into the phone. I hung up quickly, infuriated. This stunk of Jeremy. All I could think was Jeremy is going to get it in Las Cruces.
A few minutes later, my phone rang again. Still in a rage from the previous phone call, I answered my cell, “I am NOT a divorced single parent. Please do not call this number ever again.”
“Ah darn,” replied a familiar voice over the phone.
“JEREMY McKINNON!” I yelled.
Joey gave me a nervous glance through the rearview mirror. I waved my hand at him, assuring him that things were under control. He refocused on the road.
“How’s the husband hunt going, Greene?”
“Get RID of the account you made on that site, McKinnon.”
“Why? No luck yet?”
“McKinnon,” I warned.
“Ok, ok. Miss you too,” he said quickly before ending the call.
♠ ♠ ♠
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