She has the day off work. She told me she was off the rest of the week, so why get up so early?
I head back to my bedroom to get my phone, and once I retrieve it, I call her.
She answers, “Jeez Louise–how did I know you were going to call me?”
“It’s the natural thing to do when I wake up and my wife is missing.”
“Yourestrangedwife, and missing is grossly overstated. Just because you cannot see me doesn’t mean I’mmissing.”
I sigh and say, “Cyn, cut me some slack, okay? I realize I’m at your mercy here, but you don’t have to be at my throat for showing concern for you.”
“You know what? You’re absolutely right. It’s a new day. A new start. So, let’s start over. I’ma hang up. Call me back.”
“Cyn—”
Click.
She hung up. I call her back, and after the phone rings a few times, she answers, “Good morning, Brixton. How goes it? I hope you’re having a splendid start to your morning.”
She’s still with the antics. I say, “Good morning, Cyn. What are you up to this morning?”
“I got up early this morning to run by my place to get some stuff, and I figured I’d stop by Signature Select towomanizeyour house a little. You have no candles, no flowers, nosoftness–no nothing. It’s cold and bleh up in there.”
“That’s your fault.”
“How?”
“You took all that stuff when you left.”
“Oh, I did, didn’t I?” She laughs. “Well, you didn’t need it.”
“Apparently, I did if you’re out buying more of it. Just let me know what I owe you.”
“Brix, hush with all that. You don’t owe me anything.”
“Actually, I owe you a lot, Cyn, but all the money in the world won’t be enough to cover the debt,” I say before I realize it. It was on my heart, and it just came out.
Not even acknowledging my words, she says, “I’ll be back soon. Do you need anything while I’m out?”
You, baby girl. I just need you back in my house. Need to feel your energy—all that good energy that used to flow freely between us. But even if it ain’t all love, Cynnamon, I just need you. I’ll take bits and pieces until you allow me to have all of you once again. I’ll take whatever I can get.
“Brix?”
“Oh. Um…maybe pick up a few extra sodas.”
“Don’t tell me your mom is still addicted to Pepsi.”
“Like an addict.”
Her laughter flows through the line. She says, “Alright, I’ll grab some. Be back soon.”
“Okay. Thanks, Cynnabun.”
“Don’t call me that,” she says, then hangs up the phone.
I toss the phone on the bed and then take my time getting ready – choosing a suitable outfit to wear for the day to pick up my parents from the airport.
chapter seven.
