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ChapterSeven
Sienna
I wait until noon.
I don’t want to wait until noon, but I wait.
I want to follow up seconds after the first phone call. Hell, milliseconds!
Seriously, this is the most insane thing imaginable. I suppose it was inevitable that I would make the phone call to get a message to him. I suppose that was impossible to avoid. I just needed to reach a point where I really had no choice, and that happened the moment I became aware of the pregnancy. I understand that was the breaking point for me. What’s insane is that what started out as me feeling an obligation to call this man, an obligation to make sure he was aware of his child, turned into something else entirely.
I mean, I can’t recall any time in my past when it felt this bad to wait! I mean, it reminds me of the intensely emotional nature of high school love, if you know what I mean. I mean, it’s like a boy just got a note from me and I’m desperate for him to write back of something.
Damn!
Anyway, I wait until noon before I follow up with the hotel on my request.
I guess I actually wait until somewhere between five to noon and noon. In any case, I have to keep waiting as the damned phone rings. Finally, I hear a voice on the other line. The connection isn’t great. “May I speak to Roland, please?” I ask.
“This is Roland,” I hear.
“Roland, hello. This is Sienna. I called yesterday. I called about you delivering a message for me to a cabin up the mountain.”
There’s nothing but static and then silence. I stare at my phone but then it rings. I answer and things are clear. “The weather’s bad up here but I’m trying a voice-over IP thing,” Roland says, “Did you say this is Sienna?”
“Yes, hi.”
“I delivered your message yesterday,” he says, “in the afternoon.”
“Oh,” I say. “Thank you.”
“No worries,” he says, “Is that like, your dad or something?”
“No,” I say, “He’s… a friend.”
“Oh,” he says, “Sorry. I just… he’s so much older than you, I assumed—"
“There’s nothing for you to be sorry about,” I say, sparing him further awkwardness. “Thank you.”
“Any time. Hold on a second.”
I hear him talking to someone there at the hotel. I want to ask him if Drake said anything, but I’m also afraid of the answer so I say, “I can hear that you’re busy. Let me pay you and let you go.”
“Oh no,” he says, “the guy paid me.”
That stuns me but I manage to say, “Well you’re busy so thank you again, and have a nice day.”
I hang up without waiting for a response just in case he might say the type of thing I’m afraid of.
What if Drake doesn’t call me?
What the hell am I going to do if he doesn’t call me?
Nothing. Not a damned thing. It’s not like I can’t raise the baby myself. In fact, as immature and silly as this might seem, I don’t really care all that much about that part of things, at least not right now. My fear is that he won’t call me because he doesn’t want me.
I know. I know.
There are many more important things for me to be thinking about. Before you think I’m a monster, I need to tell you that I love this baby inside of me more than life itself already. I’m not saying that Drake is more important to me. I’m just saying that if he doesn’t call me back, I’m going to have to be done with him. If I’m done with him, that doesn’t mean I’m done with the baby. On the contrary, I’m going to raise this child and give it the best possible life with or without Drake.
