4/27/10

The Waiting Game
By Liza Larregui


I stared at the phone, waiting for it to ring. I knew that Bobby Crane was going to call me. He said he would and why would he lie? I picked up the handset and brought it with me around the house so that I could do some chores while waiting. As I did the dishes, I realized my hands were very wet and soapy. What if he were to call? I couldn’t answer the phone and risk my slippery hands dropping it. I turned the water off, wiped my hands dry and stood near the counter. My eyes were drawn back to the phone. I couldn’t help it. I thought maybe if I wished it hard enough, he would call. Just as I wished away, the phone rang. Surprised and nervous, I almost dropped the phone while trying to answer it.


“Hello?” I said, in my sexiest, deep voice.


“Hi, Tina, it’s your mother. Would you be able to do me a favor? Your father --”


“Ma, I can’t. I’m waiting for a phone call. Can I call you back?” I answered, frustrated that I was possibly missing his call.


“Don’t you have call waiting?”


“Ma, I can’t take the chance that it doesn’t work. I will call you back. I love you.” I clicked the off button, hoping I didn’t insult my mother too much.


I figured I would give Bobby another hour. After that hour, I would just have to accept that he didn’t like me as much as I thought he did.


***


Five hours later, I decided that maybe he wasn’t really going to call. Because I had done nothing all day while I waited, there was a lot to do around my house. Though Bobby peeked in and out of my head every few minutes, my heart was no longer concentrated on him. The need to clean my house outweighed the need to dwell on the fact I was a twenty-seven year old single loser.


About an hour into my cleaning binge, the phone rang.


“Hello?” I answered, thinking it was probably my mother who I forgot to call back.


“Hi, Tina, it’s Bobby. How are you?” I gasped when I heard it was him and I only hoped he did not hear me.


“Bobby, hi. I’m good. What’s up?” I asked nonchalantly.


“Not much, I just called to ... umm... see if you wanted to hang out tonight?”


“I’d love to. I was actually going to dinner with friends but I don’t think they would mind if I skipped out on the girl talk tonight.” A lie never hurt anyone, I thought. I wanted him to think I had a life outside of waiting for him to ask me out.


“Are you sure they won’t hate me?” He asked with a nervous chuckle.


“No, they’ll be fine. Pick me up at 8?”


“Sure thing. Can’t wait.” He said.


And neither could I.


- - -
Liza Larregui has been writing since she learned how to use a typewriter at the age of five. Only recently has she decided to submit her work for publishing. She lives in NYC with her husband and her MacBook.