Fifteen

For days, every time her phone rang, Emily jumped. Sarah, to her credit, and to Emily’s unending surprise, kept silent about Emily’s ‘situation’ as she referred to it, but smiled in a knowing way every time (and there were many) that Emily’s distraction got the better of her. Emily was relieved when her stretch of shifts was over, and she could focus on things that came more naturally than medicine, like parenting.

The advantage to Emily’s work was that, in exchange for long hard stretches at work, she got several days off at a time. It was at the beginning of such a stretch, just after she’d hustled the twins onto the school bus and poured herself another cup of coffee that her phone rang. After more than a week of silence, she hardly expected it to be Trent, and thought nothing of the unfamiliar number on the screen as she answered it.

“Emily Peterson,” she said crisply, assuming it was work.

“Hey, beautiful,” a familiar voice said. Her heart leaped to her throat. Beautiful. He’d meant it, then, the offhand comment that had echoed in her head the past week, distorting to the point that she wondered if she had actually heard him say it at all.

“Hey!” she said, genuinely surprised.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Drinking coffee. What are you doing?” she replied, certain he could hear her heart pounding.

“I’m heading for bed, but I thought I’d check in with you and see how you were.”

“Heading for bed, what, are you keeping doctor’s hours now?” she bantered.

“We were writing last night, and it was going well, so we kept at it. When you’re on a roll…”

“Writing?” she asked, confused.

“Songs,” he said.

“Oh,” she said, feeling silly. Right. His livelihood.

“Hey, listen, I don’t want to keep you,” he said. Damn, she thought. You could keep me, if you want. I’m not doing anything. “I was wondering, what are you doing tomorrow night?”

“No plans, why?”

“I thought I’d take you out for a proper date,” he said. Her heart thumped, and she felt, foolishly, like a wallflower being asked out by the prom king himself. “Enough of this skulking in dark bars and hiding from the world. I’d like to show you off.”

The comment both irked and thrilled her, and she decided to make him sweat a little. She made her voice cold. “Show me off? You mean like something you own, or a really big prize or something?”

He hesitated, and she could almost hear him trying to read her across the line. “No, that’s not what I meant,” Trent said, sounding genuinely contrite. “I just want to spend some time with you.”

She couldn’t help smiling at his reaction to her apparent irritation. In her mind, he passed a test just then; his instant repentance proved he was nervous and speaking without thinking. Still, it didn’t hurt to establish right here and now that she was someone who deserved some respect.

She let her voice soften a fraction, remembering his greeting. Beautiful. Thomas had never… She cut the thought off abruptly. Comparisons were as inappropriate as being “shown off”. “I’d love to,” she said.

“Okay, then,” Trent said and Emily could hear the relief in his voice. Telephone was so much better than email.

“Where and when?” she asked.

“How about I pick you up? I’m home now, but Toronto’s only a few hours’ drive. I can be there whenever you say.”

Pitter-patter went her heart again. Not here, not yet, her brain screamed. “No,” she said, too quickly, then backtracked a little. “I’d hate to have you drive all that way. How about I meet you in the middle somewhere?”

“Well, okay, but I really don’t mind,” he said. “It’d be worth the drive.” There was nothing suggestive in his tone, yet it had her belly turning to liquid and her knees weak.

“No, don’t worry about it. Where? What time?” she asked, hoping she sounded calmer than she was.

They settled on a nice Italian restaurant a few towns away, roughly half way, and agreed to meet at eight the next night.

“Let me give you my number,” Trent said. “Just in case.”

“In case what?” Emily asked. “In case I get lost?”

“In case you get cold feet,” he said, and recited the number. “I’m hanging up now, before you change your mind. See you tomorrow.”

Before she had a chance to say goodbye, he rang off. She stood, staring at the dead phone in her hand, and waited for her racing heart to slow. What am I doing? she thought. I’m not ready for this. He’s a rock star, for God’s sake. It occurred to her then that his parting comment may have been more accurate than she cared to admit.