“Hi, can I speak to Mike C?” My voice sounded like it had been through one of those squeegee things that our ancestors used to dry laundry; it had no substance to it.
“Sure, hold on one second.” The girl at the service desk put me on hold. I listened to static for a few moments as I moved through the house, fixated on getting out onto the porch. The cold didn’t bother me at all.
“Thanks for calling Toys R Us, this is Mike speaking. How can I help you?” His voice, familiar and in professional mode, did nothing to soothe the storm inside of me. I felt broken. Completely and utterly broken.
“Hey,” I croaked. So much for my plan of sounding normal.
“Hey,” he said.
I didn’t know how much longer I could hold it together. I decided to just say it all at once. “I know you’re getting out at midnight, and I know you’re going to be really tired, but please, when you get out, can you please come hang out with me for a few minutes?”
“Are you okay?”
“No.”
“Is it about us?”
I could easily see what he thought: that I was calling so that I could tell him I’m pregnant. “No,” I said quickly, before he had a heart attack or something.
“Is it about family?”
“Yes,” I said, and I knew at any second I would lose it.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’d rather not say over the phone.” The words felt thick in my mouth, like putty that someone had stuffed in there. I didn’t taste the putty, though; since hearing the news, I didn’t taste much of anything.
He said, “Okay,” and promised to come over after work. After midnight, after working a nine-hour or more shift.
“Thank you,” I said. I went back inside the house and made myself do something to get my mind off of things. I thought of everything but it. I made myself work on a project for a client even though all I really wanted to do was explode; the pressure between my eyes and all over my body since the news had not entirely dissipated.
Not an hour later, he called me back. “I’m getting out early,” he said. “They offered to let one of us go and Kayla agreed to let me go. I have to stay until she counts down the registers,” he continued. “It’s completely dead. So I’ll call you when I’m on my way.”
I went back to what I was working on. Ten or so minutes later, he called again.
“I’m on my way.”
I held on.
