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I clench my teeth. She wants to play it like this, fine. But I'm not going to keep helping her if she's going to throw it away.
***
I text Alyssa Saturday morning to check in, but she doesn't reply. I try not to make much of it. It's early, and she likes to sleep in.
Samantha and I play cards at the dining room table for hours. She frowns every time I check my phone, but she doesn't point it out. She just taps her hands and waits for me to finish my turn.
The morning turns to afternoon. We order takeout. We trade gossip about our old law school classmates.
But Alyssa still doesn't res
pond.
It's three now. It's getting well into the afternoon, the time she chose for her food challenge. I text her again. How is everything.
I turn my phone over and play another round of rummy with Samantha. The damn phone doesn't buzz. No new calls. No messages.
Samantha looks at me with concern. "Is everything okay?"
"Yeah." The screen is still empty. "It should be."
I stare at the phone. Alyssa isn't a huge fan of technology. It's possible she has her phone off, that she broke it and can't be bothered to fix it, that she's out and she just forgot it.
But I sent that first text hours ago.
My shoulders tense. I need to be there for her today, at least on the phone.
Samantha's voice cracks. "It doesn't seem okay."
I shake my head. I need to give Alyssa a little more time. "It should be."
She nods, but she keeps one eye on me as she takes her turn. "Alyssa?"
I nod.
"What is happening with Alyssa?"
I pick up my card and stare at it. "Don't worry about it." This card is not what I want. I don't know what to do with it.
Samantha frowns, but she says nothing until I finish my turn. Then she picks up a card and declares her victory.
She wins again. Truth be told, I let her win.
I ignore my phone for the next two rounds. Until it's nearly five. Until this damn phone is burning a hole in my brain.
This isn't like Alyssa.
But I pick up my card. I stare at it the way I always do, with my best poker face.
Samantha stares at me like I'm an idiot. "Just call her."
"It's fine."
"I'd like to get your attention back. Call her."
I nearly jump out of the chair. I press the phone between my palms and I make my way to the empty study. It's a dark room in warm shades of auburn and brown. The kind of room that radiates wealth and prestige.
I dial Alyssa. The phone rings. It rings again. It rings straight to voice mail.
