Wrong Number, Right Woman

by Jae

  She had a text from another unknown number.

  A smile crept onto Denny’s face. Had Eliza kidnapped another family member’s phone to contact her? It felt good knowing their growing friendship meant enough to Eliza that she would do that.

  God, this thing is just one step up from a flip phone, the text said. Oh, it’s Eliza, btw.

  Denny’s smile broadened. I figured. No one else I know starts conversations in the middle, without any context or even a hello.

  Sorry. Bad habit. Eliza added a blushing emoji.

  Don’t apologize. I don’t mind at all. Denny found it pretty endearing. So, what “thing” are you talking about?

  I borrowed Heather’s old phone. She activated it for me until I’m able to get a new one. I’m not sure I can even put apps on this thing.

  Well, on the plus side, at least she can’t nudge you to use No More Frogs to get another date, Denny replied.

  Ooh, I like the way you think. Not that I’d go on a date with the way I look at the moment anyway.

  At the mention of Eliza’s injuries, Denny’s teasing mood instantly disappeared. How are you?

  Purple. Eliza sent an emoji with a toothy grin. I’d send you a photo, but using this old thing, it would probably be too grainy to see anything. Are you working today?

  No. Just finished making breakfast for the ungrateful masses. Denny looked up at her sister, who was watching her, while Bella painted patterns into the leftover syrup on her plate. “Nothing to see here. Why don’t you two go do the dishes?”

  Twin groans answered her, but they got up because the household rule stated the person who did the cooking was excused from cleaning the kitchen. That left Denny to focus on her conversation with Eliza.

  So, do you have time for that long story? Eliza asked.

  Long story? Denny scratched her head with her free hand.

  About how you got your name.

  Denny smiled. She had a feeling Eliza was like a dog with a bone—she would keep asking until she found out what she wanted to know. My parents say they didn’t have a lot of time to think of baby names. I wasn’t planned, and they only found out my mother was pregnant when she was already six months along.

  Six months??? How’s that even possible?

  I have no idea. Apparently, her cycle has always been irregular, and she barely showed at all until the seventh month. The docs said she must be one of those women who carry the pregnancy more toward the back of their uterus.

  Aww, guess you were shy, even back then.

  Denny rubbed her overly warm cheek. Was her shyness obvious, even though she wasn’t as tongue-tied with Eliza? So anyway, three months apparently wasn’t enough time to think of a name, so they decided to name me after the city where I was born—Denver.

  That’s quite a story, Eliza texted. So, did they find out in time when your mom was pregnant with your sister?

  They did. Salem has never been the shy type. She made her presence known early on by causing horrible morning sickness.

  Salem? Let me guess… Your family moved, and she was born in Salem?

  Yep, Denny typed back. Why break with tradition, they said.

  Phew, good thing neither of you was born in Buffalo!

  Denny burst out laughing. God, she loved Eliza’s sense of humor.

  Salem closed the dishwasher. “Looks like Sandal Girl is doing better.”

  “She is,” Denny said without glancing up from her phone. “And it’s Eliza, not Sandal Girl.”

  Or Fort Wayne, Eliza added.

  Or Clovis, Denny shot back.

  They bounced the most ridiculous town-based names back and forth until Eliza pleaded for mercy. Okay, that’s enough! Being bruised all over and laughing your ass off don’t mix very well.

  Sorry. Denny hesitated, then gave herself a mental kick and sent a hugging smiley face. That’s what friends did when one of them was hurting, right?

  Thanks. That’s a really unique naming story. But I like Denny. Your name, I mean.

  Denny couldn’t help beaming as if she personally had come up with that name. Just the name? Not Denny, the person? She paused, not yet sending the text. Was that still considered teasing? Or was she crossing the line into flirting? She’d never been great at figuring out the difference. Finally, she decided she was overthinking things and hit send.

  Yeah, well, I figure Denny the person is not so bad either, Eliza sent back.

  If she had been flirting, Eliza was definitely flirting back. All just in good fun, of course. It didn’t mean anything. But her natural shyness didn’t care whether Eliza meant it or not. It acted up anyway, leaving her clueless as to what to reply. Finally, she typed, I’ve come to like it too. My name, I mean. Especially the shortened version.

  Didn’t you like it as a kid?

  Are you kidding? I hated it. Denny looked for an emoji that expressed her level of hatred but couldn’t find one, so she decided on a puking smiley face.

  Why? It’s so unique.

  And that’s exactly why I hated it. It made me even more different from everyone else.

  What made you so different other than your name? Eliza asked. That you liked girls instead of boys?

  That too, but it was more than that. Denny hunched her shoulders. They were veering into a territory that made her feel vulnerable. She couldn’t remember ever talking about it with anyone, not even with Salem—maybe especially not with Salem. With her sister, she had always been the protector, so while she shared everyday problems with Salem, baring too much of her vulnerabilities felt wrong.

  Seconds ticked by, and she was overly aware she still hadn’t answered. But Eliza didn’t send another question, didn’t pressure her, and that made it easier.

  I guess I always felt like the odd one out, Denny typed. When other kids talked to me, I never knew what to say, so I didn’t have many friends. And I got teased because I was a little pudgy. Let’s just say school was a miserable experience for me.

  She stared at the text she had sent. Had she really told her all that?

  Now Eliza was the one who sent her a hugging emoji. I’m sorry. Too bad we didn’t go to the same school. I would have defended you.

  The mental image of Eliza in a red cape made Denny grin. With her slim body and friendly smile, Eliza looked anything but scary. I hate to tell you, but at the time I started middle school, you were a tiny little baby.

  Hey, I was pretty scary as an infant. Just ask my mom.

  Hmm, I could. Denny swiped through the collection of emojis and picked one rubbing its chin, deep in thought, as if cooking up a sinister plan. Since I now have her phone number. I bet she could tell me some interesting stories about you as a kid.

  Nope. Nothing to tell. I was an angel. Eliza sent the smiley face with a halo.

  Why do I have the feeling you were anything but?

  I have no idea what you’re talking about, Eliza replied.

  Of course you don’t. Denny grinned as she imagined Eliza as a mischievous little kid. So now that I’ve told you all about my name and my childhood, what about you? How did you get your name? Let me guess… Your parents were fans of My Fair Lady?

  Ha! I wish, Eliza answered. Okay, I’ll tell you, but if you ever repeat this to anyone, I will have to kill you. Slowly. Painfully.

  Denny slid onto the edge of her chair. This should be good. I’ll protect your secret with my life. So?

  I was named after a piglet.

  Denny burst out laughing. What?

  Well, a fictional piglet. My mother illustrates children’s books for a living, and a little piglet named Eliza was the main character of the first book she worked on.

  Denny’s laughter trickled off into a broad grin. That’s kind of cute. Was it a bestseller?

  It sold pretty well—still does, actually. I guess kids can identify with a piglet who struggles to fit in because her tail doesn’t curl, like those of the other pigs.

  Denny sighed. Sounds like a book I would have loved as a kid. So
, is your mom rich and famous?

  Let me repeat myself: Ha, I wish! None of my mom’s illustrator friends can support themselves on children’s books alone. The starving artist thing isn’t just a myth for most people.

  You’re an artist too, aren’t you? Denny asked. What does your mother think about that?

  Well, I’m a crafter, but yeah, the financial aspects are the same. My mom was delighted when I spent my time making jewelry and cute little animal figurines as a teenager instead of partying.

  That sounded as if a but would follow. Denny waited, letting Eliza tell her story in her own time.

  But as I got older and chose to do just enough temp work to stay afloat so I could pursue my crafts instead of getting a “real job,” I know Mom was worried. I get why, but money isn’t that important to me, you know?

  I get it, Denny answered. Having a job that puts food on the table is important, but what good does it do if it feeds your stomach without nourishing your soul?

  This time, it took a while before Eliza answered. Wow. That’s beautiful. Are you sure you aren’t an artist too?

  If you ever saw the bunnies I drew for my niece when she was little, you wouldn’t ask that. No, Denny wasn’t an artist, but she knew what it was like to work in a job she tolerated yet didn’t love. If money weren’t an issue, she would sit at her sewing machine all day. But as much as she enjoyed sewing, it would never pay her rent, much less enable her to help Salem and Bella.

  “Earth to Denny! Hello?” Salem waved a pair of work gloves between Denny’s eyes and the phone, blocking her line of sight. “Are you coming or not?”

  “Coming where?” Denny had missed the entire conversation that had been going on in the dining area since she’d texted Eliza. And not just that—she’d also missed the fact that her sister was now fully dressed and looking at her expectantly.

  Salem let out an exasperated sigh that sounded a lot like her daughter’s when she was fed up with something the adults were doing. “We’re going down to the community garden to play in the dirt for a couple of hours.”

  “They’re planting the eggplants today,” Bella added.

  Denny gave her a grin. “I thought you didn’t like eggplants either?”

  Bella shrugged. “It’s like the cook-doesn’t-need-to-clean rule. If I’m planting them, I don’t need to eat them.”

  “That’s not how it works, young lady,” her mother said before turning back toward Denny. “So, are you coming?”

  Denny’s gaze went back and forth between Salem and the phone. Normally, she liked volunteering in the community garden, but today… “Um, I think I’m going to stay and keep Eliza company while she’s stuck on the couch.”

  “How did I know you’d say that?” Salem gave her an indulgent smile. “All right, see you later.”

  Denny nodded, her attention halfway back on her text conversation.

  Chapter 8

  Nearly a week later, Eliza flopped down on her couch belly-first, grateful she no longer felt stiff all over from her many bruises. She dangled her feet in the air while she typed a quick message to Denny. Hey, you. Eliza here. Want to be my first?

  There was no immediate reply. She knew Denny was home since she was working the opening shift this week, and that meant she was off at two. Maybe she didn’t reply because she didn’t recognize the new number, or she was busy helping Bella with her homework. It was amazing how well she knew Denny’s schedule and little habits already.

  A few moments later, her phone chimed with the tone she had assigned to text messages from Denny.

  Jesus, Eliza Won’t-Reveal-Her-Middle-Name Harrison! You can’t send me texts like that while I’m helping Bella with her science homework. She’ll think I’m…

  Yes? Eliza’s grin grew. Teasing Denny was so much fun.

  Sexting you.

  Eliza had a feeling if they’d been talking, Denny would have lowered her voice to a whisper. She sent back a shocked emoji, its eyes and mouth wide open. Why would she think that? I was talking about you being the first person to send me a text on my brand-new phone.

  Ooh, did you get the one we were talking about?

  Yep. Couldn’t resist, Eliza answered. That camera will be great for when I take photos of my jewelry and figurines to put on Etsy. But I’ll have to eat potatoes and Ramen noodles all month.

  I’m not rich or anything, but if you need to borrow some money, please don’t be too proud to ask, okay?

  Denny’s offer came without a second’s hesitation. They had never met or talked on the phone, yet she was offering to lend Eliza money, even though Denny was living off a cashier’s income. It touched Eliza more than she could say. Thank you. I mean that. But I’ll be fine. The guy who caused the accident will reimburse me. His car insurance is covering everything, but it might take some time for them to send me a check. In the meantime, Dee and Austen are talking about us selling some of our handmade bird toys at Saturday Market, so I’ll pick up some overtime there.

  But what about your own stall? Denny asked. Won’t you lose income if you can’t sell your craft items?

  Denny’s concern warmed her. I’ll only be covering the Feathered Friends booth every now and then, and Heather promised to cover our stall if I keep her supplied with snickerdoodle cookies.

  Sounds like a great deal for both of you. You’ll have to give me some tips on toys. Before Eliza could even think of making a joke about the toy advice remark, Denny quickly added, Bird toys. Bella wants a pet for her birthday, and we don’t think getting a dog or a bigger animal would be a good idea, so we’re thinking about a budgie.

  Cool! If she gets one, you should bring her by our booth or the office, and I’ll set her up with everything she needs.

  Thanks, Denny answered.

  She hadn’t said she would actually do it. By now, it no longer surprised Eliza. Whenever she hinted at wanting to meet, Denny changed the subject. Eliza tried not to take it personally. She sensed it wasn’t a lack of interest holding Denny back, but more that Denny was afraid something bad would happen if they met face-to-face. She promised herself to be patient with her.

  So, what color are the bruises today? Denny asked.

  Eliza peeked through the hole in the shoulder seam of her favorite sweater. Greenish heading toward yellow. I think they’ll be gone in a few days. I hope that’ll finally stop my folks from checking up on me every day.

  Well, they care. I think it’s nice.

  Shit, how insensitive of her! Denny’s parents had never shown much interest in her and had cut her out of their lives completely, and here Eliza was, complaining about her caring family. I’m sorry. I know I really don’t have anything to complain about.

  Don’t worry. I get it, Denny replied. Overprotective family members can be quite annoying, or so my niece tells me.

  Let me guess. You are the overprotective family member. Eliza hoped she would get to see Denny with her niece sometime.

  Guilty as charged. Well, me and Salem both.

  What did you do? Eliza asked.

  We won’t let her walk home from the bus by herself, and apparently, that’s destroying her street cred.

  Eliza chuckled, then couldn’t stop laughing as Denny relayed one Bella story after another. Good thing laughing no longer hurt.

  The sound of a key in the door made her look up from her phone. This time, it wasn’t an overprotective family member checking on her. Heather stood in the doorway. A frown carved a vertical line between her eyebrows as she regarded Eliza. “Oh. Sorry to barge in. I wanted to borrow some sugar and thought you were already gone.”

  “Gone? No. My date isn’t until seven.”

  “Uh, did you see the time?”

  Eliza glanced at the top of her phone screen. It was a quarter to seven! “Shit!” How on earth had that happened? It had been barely after five when she and Denny had started to chat. She dashed to her closet, pulling her sweater over her head on the way, and reached for the first top in sight.

&n
bsp; “No, no, not that one.” Heather walked up behind her, reached across, and plucked a partially sheer top from a hanger. “This one is sexier.” When Eliza raised her brows and hesitated, she added, “To make up for you being late. Want me to text the guy while you get ready?”

  “No.” Eliza struggled into her skinny jeans. “I think I can still make it on time. We’re meeting at the Italian place down the street. But could you text Denny and let her know what’s happening? We were in the middle of a conversation, and I don’t want her to think I abandoned her.”

  “Sure.” Heather crossed the room toward the couch, where Eliza had dropped the phone. “Ooh, shiny! Is that the new phone?”

  Eliza ducked into her tiny bathroom but left the door open so they could keep talking. Good thing there were no bruises on her face, because she didn’t have time to apply any makeup. Some mascara and lipstick would have to do. “Yes. I’ll show you the camera later. You’ll love it. But for now, just text Denny, please.”

  Low tapping sounds drifted over. “Dear fellow lesbian,” Heather said out loud. “Eliza had to leave, but now that I have you here… What are your intentions toward my best friend? Straight best friend, I might add.”

  “What the…?” Eliza dropped her lipstick into the sink, raced over, and tried to snatch the phone away, but Heather was faster and sidestepped her. “You did not just write that!”

  “No, of course I didn’t.” Laughing, Heather held out the phone so Eliza could see what she had written.

  Hey, Heather here. Your number neighbor. Eliza forgot she had a date, so she had to leave, but knowing her, she’ll text you afterward.

  Thank you for letting me know, Denny had answered, her reply more formal than how she normally responded to Eliza.

  She pulled the phone free of Heather’s grip before her friend really could send a message like that. It had been a joke; she knew that. But something about the text and how Heather had phrased it… Knowing her, she’ll text you afterward. She eyed Heather, who looked back at her with a neutral expression. If she wanted to, Heather could have quite the poker face. “You’re not jealous of her, are you?”