7. Chapter 7
Chapter 7
I ’m getting ready for work when my phone beeps, telling me I have a text.
It’s been a week since Robin snatched my lunch date, and now it would seem that Robin and Dawson are a thing . Yep. There is, without a doubt, a thing happening between the two of them.
So Hannah was right—he didn’t stay single for long, and now I can go back to my regularly scheduled pining. It’s fine. This is a more comfortable place for me, sitting on the sidelines.
The truth is, I’m not in the best place myself. So why was I even bothering? I’m still in the midst of my grief, still not feeling like myself, still being a chicken. I also still have to jump out of a plane in two months and haven’t even tried to think about that lately.
I’ve got to fix myself first. I still have no idea how to do that.
I pick up my phone to see that it’s from an unsaved number, but it’s one I know by heart.
I have exactly five phone numbers memorized: my dad’s, Chelsea’s, Devon’s, Hannah’s, and … my mom’s.
I let my phone see my face for recognition and then watch as it opens up. I click on my texting app and then click on the number.
(480)555-1058: H i
I pull my face back, tucking my chin inward. This feels suspiciously like one of those messages you get on Facebook from a hacked account where they end up asking you for money. They always start with “Hi.”
Do I write back? What would I even say? Such a strange thing to text someone. Just one word.
My phone beeps in my hand and I look down at the screen.
(480)555-1058: Sorry. This is Chase.
Okay, so if this is a hacker, they know a lot. I take the bait, just in case.
Maggie: Hi, Chase.
I sit on the edge of my bed as the three dots appear, each dot changing from light gray to dark in subsequent order as he types his reply.
(480)555-1058: How are you?
How … am … I? Crap. He’s going to ask me for money, isn’t he? I’m such an idiot.
Maggie: I’m doing okay
I type out “Do you need anything?” but then realize that I was just opening the door perfectly. So I delete it.
The dots appear again. I stare at my screen, wondering when the words will appear. After a while of watching the dots going away and then reappearing again, I put my phone down and go to my bathroom to finish getting ready so I’m not late for work.
So strange, Chase texting me out of the blue. It could be a hacker. I haven’t really heard of that happening via text, but these days with thousands of hackers on the internet, it wouldn’t surprise me.
Just as I’ve finished getting ready and am standing by my mom’s jewelry box, putting my k necklace on, I hear my phone beep again.
I walk over to the bed and pick it up.
(480)555-1058: I was just hoping you’re doing okay.
Okay. So maybe not a hacker trying to steal my money.
I guess that’s kind of sweet. Still … a little creepy. But I did pour my heart out to this poor guy, unknowingly. I also complained about my period and went on and on about Dawson’s butt, so I’m the real creeper in this scenario.
Still, I suppose I can see why he’d wonder how I was feeling.
Maggie: I’m hanging in there.
This is my standard answer. I’m hanging in there . Sometimes it’s by a thick cord, and sometimes it’s by silly string. It just depends on the day. Or sometimes the moment.
(480)555-1058: Good
Maggie: Thanks for checking up on me.
(480)555-1058: I guess I was wondering how long that awful feel-like-you-can’t-get-a-good-breath part lasts.
I look at my phone, furrowing my brow. What’s he talking about?
Maggie: I’m … sorry?
(480)555-1058: Sorry. My mom died three days ago. It was sudden .
My heart clenches. I sit back down on the edge of my bed. I know that awful feel-like-you-can’t-get-a-good-breath part. I know it so well.
Maggie: I’m so sorry
(480)555-1058: Thanks. I’m sorry to text you like this. I feel kinda lost.
Maggie: I get it
I run my tongue over my lips, looking down at my phone. I feel almost a responsibility right now, which is ridiculous. This is a complete stranger. But I know that desperation. I know exactly how he’s feeling. All too well.
Maggie: How old was she?
It was always helpful to talk about my mom after she died. When people who didn’t know her wanted to know more, telling her story, or even just a tiny part of it, helped. It still does.
(480)555-1058: 59
Only a year older than my mom. My heart does that clenching thing again. Too young. That’s too young to die.
Maggie: My mom was 58
(480)555-1058: Gone too soon
Maggie: Yes
The three dots are back.
(480)555-1058: This is weird. I’m sorry. I feel out of my mind. I was thinking of the texts you sent, and I just had this thought to text you. This is probably not what you need right now. Thanks for writing me back.
(480)555-1058: I won’t bother you again.
I take a breath. I could let him go. I could just send him a heart emoji or something like that and just be done. I could do that …
Maggie: A couple of weeks
(480)555-1058: ??
Maggie: It took me about two weeks to feel like I could really breathe again.
(480)555-1058: Okay. Two weeks.
Maggie: It’s different for everyone, though.
(480)555-1058: Not very helpful ;)
I smile at the winking emoji he added to the text. I like a person who can find humor, even in horrible, life-changing situations.
Maggie: Would be nice if they could give you a magic pill to get you through the hard stuff.
(480)555-1058: I can see why people turn to other stuff to cope.
Maggie: Gotta be careful of that
(480)555-1058: Right
Maggie: What happened? If you don’t mind me asking.
(480)555-1058: Car accident
I don’t know how to even respond to that. I know what I can’t say. Things like: She’s in a better place , or It was God’s time , or Everything happens for a reason .
We heard so many clichéd comments after my mom passed. It became a running joke with me, Chelsea, and Devon. Sorry for your loss … Her body is whole now … Sending hugs and prayers and/or thoughts.
I get it. It’s hard to know what to say. I still don’t know what’s right, to be honest. A simple “I’m sorry” seemed to do the trick for me.
I text that to Chase. And I am truly sorry. A car accident that takes your parent away suddenly sounds like such a terrible thing. I got a long goodbye with my mom. I got to tell her how much I loved her so many times before she died. I’m grateful for that.
(480)555-1058: What about your mom?
Maggie: Brain tumor. Fast acting. She was gone six months from diagnosis.
(480)555-1058: Wow. I’m sorry.
Maggie: Thank you
(480)555-1058: I appreciate you texting me. I’ll let you get back to whatever you’re doing.
Maggie: You’re welcome
Maggie: Have to go to work
I look down at my phone, chewing my bottom lip. Not sure if I should type next what I want to type.
Maggie: If you ever need to talk, I’m here.
I hit send before I can overthink it. He’ll probably never text me again. Maybe in a few weeks, I can check up on him. It’s not like I’ll forget his number. I’ll probably never forget that number.
My phone beeps.
(480)555-1058: Thanks