Wrong Number, Right Woman

by Jae

  The pain had started on Monday, but with her physically demanding job, a few aches were nothing out of the ordinary, so she had ignored them. Usually, they went away if she iced the affected area and got enough rest on her day off.

  But this time, the pain had gotten worse instead of disappearing.

  She’d tried to tough it out because it was inventory day; they needed all hands on deck. But by midday, the pain was so bad that she winced any time she had to lift a heavy box while restocking. Running the register wasn’t any better. Every flick of her wrist made her grimace—and that wasn’t how her boss wanted her to greet customers. Without her dominant hand, she was pretty much useless at her job.

  Finally, she admitted defeat and told her boss.

  She had hoped the doc would pull some minor miracle out of his bag of medical tricks, maybe give her an injection that would enable her to go right back to work, but he was apparently all out of miracles. Instead, he prescribed regular icing, ibuprofen, a brace, and a few days off work.

  Thankfully, she worked for a company with a great benefits package, including plenty of paid sick days.

  Denny slammed the car door closed with her hip and trudged to their townhouse, cradling her arm to her chest. Unlocking the front door was a struggle with her left hand. She fought to get a better grip. Jeez, why were there so many keys on her key chain?

  When she got the door open, she found herself face-to-face with Salem, who stood inches away, swinging a metal shoehorn like a baseball bat. “Christ, Denny! You scared me half to death! I thought you were a burglar!”

  “So you were trying to chase off a potentially armed criminal with a shoehorn?”

  Salem shrugged. “I grabbed whatever was nearby. It was either the shoehorn or your old sneakers. Hmm, come to think of it, they might have made a better weapon because they smell like—” Her eyes widened as she stared at the brace on Denny’s arm. “What happened?”

  “Overuse and old age,” Denny grumbled. “That’s what happened. Apparently, tendonitis is common in my line of work, especially once you’re over forty.”

  “Come on, old woman. Let’s get you inside.” Salem gripped Denny’s elbow and guided her into the house as if she were ninety and couldn’t walk without support.

  “Watch your tongue. This old woman is still spry enough to do this.” Denny gave her a light sideways kick to the ass.

  “Ouch.” Salem theatrically rubbed her behind. “Are you also spry enough to cook? It’s just the two of us tonight. Bella is having a sleepover at Kaylee’s.”

  Denny tossed her keys onto the counter, marched to the freezer, and pulled out two tubs of ice cream. “Dinner is served.” No need to be a role model when her niece wasn’t there, and after the day she’d had, she deserved all the ice cream she could eat.

  Salem burst out laughing.

  “What?” Denny gave her an innocent look. “The doc said to ice the arm.”

  “I’m sure he meant from the outside.”

  Denny pulled an ice pack from the freezer and wrapped it in a dish towel. “Doing it from the outside and the inside can’t hurt. Grab a couple of spoons.”

  They settled down on the couch with their ice cream containers, and Salem picked a rom-com for them to watch.

  Denny would never admit it, but she enjoyed a good romantic comedy as much as her sister did. Not tonight, though. She couldn’t focus on the predictable plot, and sitting still seemed like a chore. After a while, she took the ice pack off her wrist and tossed it onto the coffee table.

  She kept glancing at the clock. Was Eliza still at home, or had she left for her date with that IT guy from the No More Frogs app? She had exchanged messages with him all week, and with each message Eliza had forwarded her, Denny had liked him less. But she wasn’t able to say why.

  Usually, Eliza checked in with Denny before she went on a date, but today, Denny hadn’t heard from her since lunch.

  “Stop tapping your foot.” Salem reached over from her end of the couch and slapped her thigh.

  “Hey! You’re hitting the injured person? That’s against doctor’s orders!”

  “The doctor also said for you to rest, not to tap your foot at two hundred beats a minute,” Salem answered.

  “He said to rest my arm. My feet are fine, so I can tap them all I want,” Denny grumbled.

  Salem sent her a glare. “Not while I’m trying to watch a movie. If you’re not in the mood, go do something else.”

  But since she couldn’t do much without her right arm, sewing was out.

  Hanging out with Eliza wasn’t an option either. Even if she hadn’t left for her date, she was probably busy getting ready for it, carefully doing her makeup and choosing what to wear.

  In Denny’s opinion, IT Guy didn’t deserve that much consideration. He’d probably turn out to be another dud. There was something soothing about that thought, and that deepened Denny’s frown. She would be happy for Eliza if she managed to find a nice guy, wouldn’t she?

  Salem stretched her foot across the cushion between them and poked her thigh. “What’s up with you?”

  Denny let out a long sigh. “Nothing. Just restless and bored, I guess.”

  “Why don’t you text Eliza, see if she wants to chat?”

  Denny managed not to grimace. “Can’t. She’s got a date tonight.”

  Salem paused the movie to focus her full attention on Denny.

  The scrutiny made Denny squirm. “What?”

  “Is that the reason you’re pricklier than a porcupine with its quills at full mast?”

  “Why does everyone keep comparing me to a porcupine?”

  “Aha!” Salem triumphantly pointed the remote control at her. “You’re evading the question. So that’s a yes.”

  Denny looked away to settle her right arm onto a pillow. “No, it’s not. Why would I be grumpy just because Eliza has a date?”

  Salem poked her with her toes again. “Because you have a crush the size of the Wells Fargo Center on her.”

  Denny’s stomach spiraled like a figure skater. Her hands went cold, even though she had taken the ice off. “Bullshit.” The word echoed back at her in the silence, making her very aware that it lacked conviction. “I don’t have a…” Her voice became quieter with every word until she trailed off. “Shit.” She tried to rub her face and nearly whacked herself in the eye with her brace.

  “Hey.” Salem placed her feet on Denny’s lap and scratched her thigh with her toes. “That’s not so bad. Just a crush, right? You’re not, like, falling in love with her, are you?”

  “No!” Take a deep breath. Now another. “No,” she repeated more calmly, “of course not. I haven’t even met her, remember? It’s just a silly crush. Completely harmless. It’ll go away if I ignore it, and by the time we meet face-to-face for the first time, I’ll have my head on straight. So to speak.”

  God, was that why she had been so hesitant to meet Eliza in person? She had attributed it to her shyness around new people, but then why was her hesitancy increasing the more she got to know Eliza? Deep down, she must have known she was starting to like Eliza in a way that wasn’t entirely platonic.

  “Too bad,” Salem said. “You’re really cute when you’re crushing on someone. Your ears get all red any time you text her.”

  Denny couldn’t help touching one of her ears with her left hand. “No, they don’t. You’re making that up.”

  The cha-chung sound she had assigned to Eliza’s texts interrupted her protests.

  “Ha! Works like a charm! Your ears are turning red.”

  Denny wanted to deny it, but she felt the heat in her ears. Great. If she ever met Eliza in person, she’d have to wear a hat.

  “Aren’t you going to answer?” Salem asked. “You’re not going to ignore her now that you’ve admitted your crush, are you?”

  “No, of course not.” Denny knew she was responsible for her own feelings; she wouldn’t punish Eliza for them. She could do this, right? All she had to do was to
act normally and wait out this crush so she wouldn’t fuck up a wonderful friendship. She tickled Salem’s toes until she removed her feet from Denny’s lap so she could steady the phone against her thigh.

  Sneakers and skirt, or do I break with tradition? Eliza’s text said.

  Sneakers, Denny answered, awkwardly tapping at the keys with her left hand. If the date isn’t going well, at least you can sprint out of there.

  Good thinking! Thanks, Eliza replied. So, what about your own dating life? Any news from the No More Frogs front?

  Truth be told, Denny hadn’t opened the dating app since Tuesday or Wednesday. Nope. No one’s profile jumped out at me. She had skimmed a few profiles of local women, but then she’d gotten distracted. Yeah, by searching for Eliza’s profile and poring over every word of it! Shit, Salem was right. She really had a gigantic crush.

  And no one’s contacted you either? Eliza asked.

  I haven’t checked in a while, but I don’t think so, Denny typed back. You didn’t expect them to be lining up at my virtual door, did you?

  Um, well, I had a feeling someone would contact you soon.

  That made one of them. Still, Eliza’s confidence in her ability to attract women felt good.

  So you don’t have plans for tonight? Eliza asked. Wait. It’s inventory day, isn’t it?

  Eliza’s familiarity with her schedule was nice. It made her feel as if her everyday life mattered. Yeah, it is, but this time, I won’t be there for the counting-stock fun. I’m out sick.

  What? You’re sick, and you’re only mentioning it now?

  Denny ducked her head. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep it from you, but I’m usually more the suffer-in-silence type. Plus I didn’t want to bother you when there’s nothing you can do about it.

  You don’t know that. I make a mean chicken soup.

  The image of Eliza showing up on her doorstep with a huge pot of soup made Denny smile. I’m not sick-sick. I don’t think your chicken soup would do much good for tendonitis.

  You’ve got tendonitis? Eliza asked. How did that happen?

  The doc said it’s from too many repetitive movements of my wrist.

  Oh, really? Looks like we desperately need to find you a girlfriend! Eliza added a bunch of crying-laughing emojis.

  A flush of heat swept up Denny’s neck.

  “Are you sure it’s just a little crush?” Salem commented from her end of the couch. “Now it’s not only your ears that have turned red. You look like a fire hydrant all over.”

  “Don’t you have something better to do than watch me? Like finish your movie?”

  Salem grinned broadly. “No. You’re much more entertaining than Rebel Wilson and Liam Hemsworth.”

  “Thanks, I guess.” Denny returned her attention to her conversation with Eliza. The overuse is from sitting at the register, scanning stuff all day, and from lifting heavy stock, not from…that!

  God, you’re so much fun to tease! Eliza typed back. But seriously, what did the doctor say? You’ll be fine, right?

  Yeah. I just need to take it easy, ice it every now and then, and wear a brace for a week. That’s why I’m texting at the speed of an arthritic turtle, in case you were wondering.

  God, Denny! You should have told me! You should stop texting and rest your arm.

  Denny made a face, probably the one resembling her niece when she learned they’d be having zucchini for dinner. Don’t want to, she replied.

  Her phone rang in her hand, making her jump.

  She glanced at the screen to see who was calling.

  Shit, it was Eliza!

  Her heart leaped into her throat and clattered there like a bird trying to break free. No, no, no! What was Eliza doing? She wasn’t ready for this. What was she supposed to say? What if she said something wrong, something that gave away her crush and made things awkward between them?

  “Pick up,” Salem said.

  “No! It’s Eliza, and I—”

  The phone stopped ringing.

  Relief and regret warred within Denny, and she wasn’t sure what won out. She lowered her gaze to the screen as a message popped up.

  Not in the mood to talk? Eliza asked, followed by a sad face. I thought it would be easier on your wrist, but if you’re not up for it…

  Regret won the wrestling match, helped along by a heavy dose of guilt. The last thing she wanted was to make Eliza think she didn’t want to talk to her. But there was only one way to undo that: she needed to call her back.

  Denny sucked air into her oxygen-starved lungs. Okay, she could do this. She was a mature woman of forty-one…well, mostly mature woman. It was just a phone call with a friend.

  A friend she had a major crush on.

  Her fingers trembled as she tapped the screen a few times, then she pressed the phone to her ear.

  While the phone rang, Salem got up from the couch, patted Denny’s shoulder, and left the room, giving her some privacy.

  The ringing stopped, and the call connected.

  Denny said the first thing that came to mind. “Uh, hi. It’s me. Denny.”

  A chuckle drifted through the phone, gentle as a Portland drizzle, not hard and mocking at all. “I know. Hi, Denny. It’s so good to finally hear your voice.”

  Wow. That voice. It was warm and melodious, as she had imagined, and the way Eliza said her name set off tingles everywhere.

  “Denny? You still there?”

  Great. She sat, phone clutched to her ear, listening to Eliza’s voice with her mouth gaping open. Thank God Eliza hadn’t FaceTimed her! “Uh, yeah. Still here. Sorry I didn’t pick up when you called. I, uh… Like I said, that brace is making me slow as a turtle.”

  “Liar.” Eliza’s tone was still warm and slightly amused. “You do know there’s no need to pretend with me, don’t you?”

  Denny hung her head. “Yeah. I know that. I just…”

  “Don’t worry. I get it. Would it help if I do the talking and you just ooh and aah in all the right places?”

  Denny laughed, and a part of her tension receded from her body as if she had been submerged in a bubble bath. “How do I know what the right places are?”

  “Why don’t we assume I’m a brilliant and fascinating conversationalist, so any time I pause to draw a breath would be the right place.”

  “Ooh,” Denny said, followed by, “Aah.”

  Eliza’s laughter burst through the phone. “See? There was no need to worry at all. You’ve got this conversation thing down pat already!”

  They were both silent for several seconds. With anyone else, Denny would have feverishly tried to think of something to say, but to her surprise, she found it wasn’t an awkward silence at all. She smiled against the phone, and she had a feeling Eliza was doing the same.

  “So,” she said after a while, “when’s your date with what’s-his-name?”

  “His name is Ben…or SongBoy77. We agreed to meet for drinks and karaoke at the Voicebox at eight.”

  Denny glanced at her wristwatch again. It was a few minutes after seven. Damn. Just when she was finally starting to relax and enjoy talking to Eliza, she had to let her go. “Then shouldn’t you get going? You’re not riding your bike, are you?” Images of Eliza smashing into another car sliced through her mind, making her shudder.

  “No.”

  “Good. Riding your bike after dark isn’t safe.” She tried to ignore the fact that it might mean SongBoy77 would drive her home, walk her to her door, and kiss her good night. Would Eliza kiss him back?

  “No, I meant, I don’t have to get going.”

  “Uh, you don’t? Why not?”

  “Because when you told me you’re sick, I sent him a text, asking him to meet tomorrow instead. You kept me company when I was bruised and couch-bound; now it’s my turn.”

  Aww. Denny’s hands warmed. In fact, her entire body, starting with her chest area, was warming up. She knew she should tell Eliza she didn’t have to stay home because of her, but for once, she wanted to be a
tiny bit selfish. “Thanks,” she said quietly.

  “No need to thank me. Actually, Ben should be thanking you for giving his ears a reprieve.”

  Now it was Denny’s turn to say, “Liar.” With a voice as pleasant as Eliza’s, there was no way her singing was that bad.

  Eliza chuckled. “Okay, I admit I haven’t managed to make anyone’s ears bleed yet. What about you? Are you a karaoke champ?”

  “Hell, no! Me going on stage, singing in front of a bunch of strangers?” She shuddered.

  “Ah, right. But maybe you’d enjoy it without an audience. I’ve got a karaoke game on my Xbox,” Eliza said. “We should play it sometime.”

  The casual mention of them getting together made Denny tense up with a complex mix of longing and dread. She swallowed heavily. “You’ve got to give me some time to practice my singing before that.”

  “Take all the time you need.” Eliza’s voice got even warmer, if that was possible.

  They both knew singing practice wasn’t the real reason Denny needed more time, but Denny was fine with Eliza knowing—as long as she didn’t sense what the biggest reason was: Denny was hoping to get over her crush before meeting her.

  Yeah, fat chance of that happening, a little voice in the back of her mind whispered as Eliza regaled her with the story of a customer who had called Feathered Friends this week to complain about getting his finger stuck in a finger trap they sold stuffed with nuts.

  Why did Eliza have to be so funny on top of being kind and genuine?

  Chapter 11

  The next evening, SongBoy77 a.k.a. Ben bowed with a flourish, as if he had just delivered a Grammy Award–worthy performance, and jumped from the stage. Admittedly, his singing was pretty good. Too bad the same couldn’t be said about their date.

  With an Elvis-like swagger, he strode back toward their table. “That was great, wasn’t it?”

  Eliza stared at him. How about some modesty, buddy? She much preferred Denny’s adorable shyness to his bravado. “Uh, yeah.”

  Sweat dripped off his receding hairline and barely missed her virgin piña colada as he leaned down and reached for her.

  What the hell? Was he trying to kiss her? Eliza pushed her chair back, away from him, and jumped up. “Would you excuse me for a minute?” She nodded toward the restrooms.