21. Maggie
21
maggie
My phone lights up and it’s almost dawn. Thailand’s air is so thick I could ladle it. It lives on every surface and my skin. I roll over in my little bed in the corner of the world where the night blooming jasmine puts me to sleep every night. Today I might visit the elephants again. I wrap the sheet around my middle, because I can’t sleep unless there’s some kind of cover on me. My feet are exposed and hopefully will help me cool off a little bit. I roll over and grab my phone. I am totally awake, too sweaty to sleep.
UNKNOWN: Hi. Hey. I got your note. Thank you.
Maggie: What note?
Oh shit. I should not respond to random texts. I always forget about spammers, but what if it’s the last AirBnB I stayed at and I don’t respond? They could give me a bad rating, and I won’t get the long-term villa rental I have in a couple of weeks. My phone dings again and I glance down.
UNKNOWN: You’re serious? Mags, the note about Gemma.
I fling the phone down on the bed as if it’s on fire. This is Colt. Colt is texting me to thank me for the note I forgot I sent. I deleted his number. I cannot have that complication rolling around in this situation. It is very much not okay that he texted me. I sit up and scoot away from my phone. I stare it down like it’s a gunfight or a predator standoff. I look around as if the answer to whether I read it or respond is somewhere written on the walls of this rented bungalow.
I slink out of bed and use the bathroom. All the while my phone sits there like a ticking time bomb. Eventually, I’m going to have to make a choice to ignore him and pretend I have a new number or respond. What could he possibly have to say to me? And now I’m pacing. Our last text exchange was brutal after fucking Kevin told me to stop texting him. And Mak and Tony’s wedding was awkward. He was there for the ceremony and then the family disappeared. I never looked at the girls and shook hands with his wife. That was it!
“It’s not like it’s inappropriate. He is a widow, and I assume Tony or Mak told him that I’m divorcing my cheater husband.” I wave my arms around the space, talking to it, waiting for something or someone to respond. There’s only silence and my damn thoughts in my head. My heart feels the familiar squeeze of longing and heartbreak that belongs uniquely to him. Any love angst in my life totally belongs to Colt.
I whip open my little suitcase and fold my t-shirts and dirty tank tops neatly to make room for everything. I do that underwear folding to make it all lay flatter and then I get dressed.
I sit on the edge of my bed nearish to my phone but not touching it, now completely packed for an unknown destination. I packed like someone was going to bust in here and discover where I am. Would it be so bad to respond to him now that I know it’s him? No, I think that’s okay.
Maggie: I know you’re annoyed at me.
Mak: Always. But what?
Maggie: Did you tell Colt about Kevin?
Mak: No. Because you told us not to tell anyone. So we didn’t. But you should at some point. Maybe not right now because he’s all fucked up and dealing with the girl’s grief but no I didn’t tell him.
Maggie: Thanks. Talk soon.
Mak: Hell to the no. Hey! How about some intel. Where are you? And “Mak, how is school going? What’s up with Tony? Did you cut that tree out of the backyard? How’s your mom doing? Anything that’s not about you.” Give me something.
Maggie: All that. I’m sorry. All of that.
Mak: Never mind, girl. I got you. School sucks but I’m on the dean’s list. Tony is dreamy. Yes, we cut that tree down. My mom is so good. Dad is fabulous as well. And I love you.
Maggie: I love you too.
Now I’m armed with information. But I can’t revisit whatever Colt and I were. I’m still reeling from the pickle balling, and he’s like two weeks out from burying his wife. And we’re not the same people. We’re in different places on our timeline so it would be odd. But it would be rude not to at least acknowledge that he went out of his way to thank me for my note. It’s the right thing to do.
Maggie: You’re welcome.
There now my heart can stop racing and my stomach can settle down so I can get to the airport to buy the next available plane ticket. I certainly hope when the penalties roll in for cashing in a chunk of my 401k, that this will all be worth it. Also, I’m going to have to marry rich in order to retire. Or possibly get in better shape and climb on a pole. Maybe I could become a hiking guide somewhere beautiful.
Colt: Hi.
I leap up and shove my phone in the air. “And what is that ? Could it be more strange? That’s a little too flirty for my liking. That’s a lot of presumption right there, mister. Who do you think you’re talking to? I know your game, and it is not going to work on me. That was a simple thank you and you’re getting all into this again. Nope. Can’t do it.”
I sit on the side chair that’s basically meant to be a place to fling discarded clothing or towels. Then I look at that word sitting there with so much promise and drama. I waggle my finger in the air. “No Sir, I am not falling for that.” I tuck my phone into my backpack and climb into my rental car. I had another two weeks at this place but it is in high demand. Hopefully, they’ll refund something to me. This might be the moment I stop thinking about drifting and start choosing. I have to stop waiting.
“As we prepare to take off, please switch all devices to airplane mode. Our flight time today to Rome is fourteen hours and forty-two minutes. Settle back and we’ll take good care of you. Thanks for flying with us.” Fine, let’s do this.
Maggie: Hey.
I quickly toggle to airplane mode, pop a couple of melatonin gummies and snuggle beneath my cashmere wrap.
The nerve of him and his ‘hi.’ I’ll see that and raise you a, ‘hey.’ And who knows what the heck any of it means.