The Return of Jonah Gray
Page 29
Once home, I walked up to my porch and pulled the mail from my mailbox. As soon as I turned toward the door, the phone inside started to ring. I pulled open my purse and dug frantically for my keys, bending my mail and shoving my coat under my arm.
“Shit,” I muttered as I upended my purse on the porch, grabbed my keys and managed to force them into the lock. I flung the door open and lunged for the phone. Why do I do this? I wondered as I went through the motions. It would be a telemarketer, or a survey, or the newspaper selling subscriptions, or my mother apologizing for meddling in my life yet again.
“Hello,” I gasped.
“Why Jeffrine, you’re not in Fresno after all.” It was that voice. His voice. The voice that wrapped around you like a warm day.
“I really am sorry,” I said.
“Actually, I’m flattered,” he said. “I thought I was the one who wanted to talk to you. I didn’t realize it was also the other way around.”
“I knew you’d be mad and think I was a crazy person.”
“You disappeared,” he said. “I didn’t know how to find you. Do you know how many Hills there are in Fresno?”
“But I’m not in Fresno,” I said. “I’m still here.”
“Thank God. You sound like you’re out of breath,” he said. “I hope you didn’t rush on my account.”
I smiled. I looked at my keys, still in the door. My purse upended on the porch. My mail in a bent pile. “It was worth it,” I said, and I sat on the floor to talk to Jonah Gray.
ISBN: 978-1-5525-4916-2
THE RETURN OF JONAH GRAY
Copyright © 2007 by Heather Cochran
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All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
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