Either she gasped, or there was some static on the line. And then there was silence. I was about to hang up when she said, “I can’t believe you said that.”
And then I did actually hang up.
I felt nothing.
But then a light, giddy feeling erupted in me. I said, “What didn’t you do to me?”! I’d wanted to say that for years! And I hung up on her! I hung up on her! I HUNG UP ON HER! I couldn’t believe I did that. I started to scroll down through the list of received calls to make sure she’d actually called and I hadn't just been hallucinating due to the glue fumes, when she called me back.
I let it ring three times, debating whether or not to answer it. Finally, I did.
“I know you didn’t hang up on me,” she said, almost tauntingly.
I made a noncommittal grunt.
“Look,” she said, suddenly pleasant . . . well, not quite pleasant, but neither outraged nor indignant, like she was forty-five seconds ago. “I have some of your mail.”
“Did you open it?”
She didn’t answer that. “So I’m going to come by and drop it off, okay?”
“You could just forward it.”
“No, no, I want to come by.”
“I know you want to come by. All I’m saying is that you don’t have to.” What I was really saying was that I didn't want her to.
“It’s no trouble.”
“For you, maybe.”
I think the irony was lost on her. “I’m on my way.”
“You’re . . .” Damn it, why hadn't I looked at the number? She was probably calling from her cell phone and not her home phone.
“Yeah. What’s the code for the gate?”
“What gate?” For a second, I forgot that my dad lives in a gated community and that you have to either push a button on a remote, punch in a code, or call someone from the box to get in.
“To get in your dad's community, Lissy, duh,” she snapped.
“Uh, I don’t know!” I said, and hung up. They change the code, like, every month, so it’s entirely possible that I didn’t actually know the code. Whatever. I’m sure if she hung around out there long enough, she could sneak in behind one of the neighbors.
And then I felt a little bit panicky.
Labels: january brings few faces
