Back to You(49)

He couldn’t be sure which category this particular circumstance would fall into.
He swallowed slowly as he lifted the phone and scrolled through his contacts, choosing her number and hitting send before he could talk himself out of it. As the phone began to ring in his ear, he felt his heart speed in his chest, and he closed his eyes and clenched his jaw.
“Yeah?” a voice rasped into the phone after the third ring, and Michael opened his eyes.
“Hello?” the woman said after another second, her voice growing a bit louder with irritation.
He opened his mouth, but no words would come.
“Hello!” she nearly shouted. “Who the hell is this?”
Michael’s eyes fell closed again as the familiar slur rang out in that last sentence. Without opening them, he moved his thumb and hit the button to end the call.
He sat there for a second, staring at the table before he exhaled heavily and tossed the phone onto it with a soft thud. He pushed his chair back and stood, running a hand through his hair as he walked toward the sink to load the dinner dishes into the dishwasher.
When he was through, he wiped down all the counters. He straightened the living room. He put away Erin’s toys. Then he went into the bathroom and wiped it down with cleaner. And when that was done, and he had nothing else to clean or neaten, he found himself walking aimlessly around the house.
The feeling of restlessness in him was unsettling, and after a few minutes he finally willed himself to go sit on the couch and calm down. He didn’t understand why he felt so antsy. Sure, it was only nine o’clock { display: block; text-indent: 5%; font-size: 0.88rem; margin-top: “n the on a Saturday night, but he could hardly attribute it to that; Michael hadn’t been out on a Saturday night in years.
And suddenly, like a smack to the face, he understood why he was so edgy.
Lauren was out on her date tonight. It was the reason she had turned down his second dinner invitation.
He inhaled slowly through his nose as he lay back on the couch and closed his eyes, running both hands down his face.
As soon as he closed his eyes, he was assaulted with a memory of her, one that made him smile but at the same time caused his heart to clench.
It had been his junior year of high school; he was sitting in his living room, watching a football game, when there was a timid knock on his door.
He opened it, and the first thing he saw was her red nose, followed by her bloodshot eyes, and finally her tear-streaked face. He could remember the dichotomy of his emotions in that moment: the desire to pull her protectively into his arms battling against his innate desire to murder someone.
“What happened?” he asked, trying to remain composed for her.
“I need your help,” she said, her voice quivering slightly, and she held out her hand.
He took it without hesitation, his jaw tightening with rage as she guided him down the driveway to where her car was parked. The entire time, he ran his thumb soothingly over the back of her hand as he envisioned making whoever did this to her bleed.
As they reached her car, Lauren had let go of his hand and opened the passenger door, and as Michael bent to get into the car, he froze.
He blinked a few times before leaning closer to the car, not sure what he was seeing.
“What…” he asked, looking over to where she stood, fighting tears. “What the hell is that?”
“Triple chocolate cake,” she said softly. He closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to make sense of what was going on.
“For your birthday,” she added, her voice so small it sounded like a child’s, and his expression softened as he looked back at her. “I made it for you, and when I was driving it over here, this cat,” she gestured wildly at nothing, her voice breaking on the last word, “bolted out in front of me…and I tried to swerve, but it darted back and forth, and I slammed on the brakes, and then…”
She motioned pathetically at the car, and Michael looked back inside, at the brown goop and chunks that were smeared and splattered all over the interior of the vehicle.
He pressed his lips together as he raised his eyes back to her, and she sniffled and hiccupped as she wiped her nose on her sleeve. He had been so overcome with relief in that moment that she was okay, and she had looked so adorably pathetic, that he burst out laughing.
When she heard him, she dropped her face into her hands as her shoulders shook with silent sobs, and he immediately straightened and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his chest.
“Come on, Red,” he said through a smile. “Let’s go get some rags and a bucket.”
They spent the next two hours cleaning and scraping what had once been chocolate cake out of her car, and every so often, Michael would look over at her to find her eyes shining with tears again.