“You assumed that something took her away. Something that was outside of her control. You assumed the best,” Skip said simply.
A weird pain tightened my chest. “Yeah. I did.”
“You always assume the best in people,” my at-home philosopher said.
“Why does it not feel like a good thing when you say it?”
“Good is relative. Things are what they are.”
“Well, now what am I thinking?” I asked.
“And now you’re thinking that maybe she left of her own choice.”
The pain sharpened. I couldn’t seem to take in a full breath. “Yes.”
“It sounds like you need clarification. But it also sounds like she might need some time to process.”
“How so?”
“Don’t forget I met her. We actually spent a lot of time together. She was highly organized and focused. To be honest, she reminded me of myself.”
I sat on the bed. “Huh.” Wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
“Yes. And she and I have similar business aesthetics,” he explained. “We collectively geeked out over the use of color-coded highlighters in our planners.”
“Nerds.”
He laughed softly. “Yeah, yeah. Just remember that I don’t like surprises. Unlike you, I find sudden change very upsetting and I need time to readjust.”
“I know, Skippo.”
“So give her some space. She might need to process things. Just don’t bombard her.”
“You’re right. I should go talk to her. I wonder if she’s awake now? How can I figure out where she lives?”
“Sanders,”his tone warned.
Skip was soft-spoken with a very slight speech impediment on some of his words. He told me once he had therapy as a kid but it still sometimes came out. He’d always been self-conscious about it and I wondered if that was why he hardly spoke. Or maybe it was because I was always the one talking when we were together. But when he had something important to say, he was firm. He was firm with me now.
I flopped back on the bed and studied the wooden beams that crossed the ceiling. “Fine. I’ll be patient.”
There was a sound of a deep breath.
“Hey, I can be patient,” I repeated.
“Like the time you said you would wait for me and then ran to the beach before I even had my sunscreen on?” I started to speak but he cut me off to finish. “And then you ended up getting stung by a jellyfish. Need more examples? I have plenty.”
The memory made me wince. “Point taken. Moving on.”
“You’re many wonderful things,” he explained, “but patience is a virtue that skipped you. Sometimes, this is an awesome thing, your tenacity is unmatched. Sometimes, it leads to intense talks in the middle of the night and flights to small towns in the middle of nowhere.”
“I can do this,” I said out loud mostly to myself. I felt a change happening within me. I wanted her to take me seriously.
“Make sure when you talk again, it’s on neutral ground. Somewhere she feels comfortable,” he said.
I closed my eyes and imagined Roxy’s face. Her soft, full lips. I recalled her body rocking against mine. My palms burned to touch her skin. “With her, I can be patient.”
The silence lasted so long on the other side of the line that I pulled the phone away to check that we hadn’t disconnected.
