Funny Feelings (60)

Meyer: They’re not, I promise.

Me: Thank you. And yes, I met with Clay. He wants me to start posting videos now, of every day ‘funny’ things. He claims people will be intrigued by my personality. Barf emoji.

Meyer: You can’t just type barf emoji. You have to change it to the emoji. Come on. I expect more from a youngster like you.

Me: I was being ironic. Also I was speak texting. It’s hard to look at my phone through the glare of the red light.

Meyer: You’re probably slowly blinding yourself with the red light from that combined with the blue light from… every other piece of tech.

Me: I’ll be able to see just enough to appreciate my glowing complexion, though.

Meyer: Just call me when you’re done and don’t burn your retinas anymore, Jones.

I groan on the tail end of a snicker. I’m giggling over the notion that he wants to talk to me so much that he wants to continue on without a lapse.

Where are my flower petals? He loves me, he loves me not.

The mask times out and I put it away with slow, determined movements. I definitely do not speed-shuffle back to my phone… with a glass of wine, prop myself up with a stack of pillows or do any other nonsensical preparations to have a conversation on the damn phone.

This is ridiculous.

I hit call on his number before I start scribbling our names together in a notebook or bring any additional secondhand embarrassment upon myself.

“Hey,” he answers in a ring.

I seize up on that syllable. His voice is low, quiet… a burr on the edge of it through the phone. It’s not his typical phone voice I hear, anymore—the one he uses when he calls to ask me if I want to do a show at a certain venue, or to ask for my help making Valentine’s for Hazel’s class. It’s now the one that told me how he’s not a fucking saint; that he imagines me bent over and bare for him. “Hi.” I swallow.

“Give me a sec? I need to move Haze to her bed.”

“Yeah—okay.” My voice is high and tight.

“Alright, back.” He sighs. “I realized I asked if I could call you at midnight here but forgot to ask if you had plans already, so I figured I’d better try earlier.”

I smile. “No plans. Just doing all my maintenance and chipping away at the set.”

“How’s your sister and everyone?” I immediately ask, trying to avoid the gaps.

“Good. The boys picked up quite a bit of ASL too so Hazel’s having a great time.”

“Good.”

“So…”

“So—“

“So, I miss you, Jones. I know I said we miss you, earlier. And we do. But I miss you.”

“I miss you too, My.”

“Tell me more about your meeting with Clay?”

“Not much more to tell, really. I need to get a little more active with the social media stuff, so I will. He seems excited for the tour.”

“You feel good about him then?”

“Sure. He seems like a good guy.”

“He’s knowledgeable and has a good reputation,” he says, his tone seeking validation.

“Sounds like someone has a crush,” I tease.

“Did he talk to you about Shauna’s premier?” he pivots.

“Oh— that’s right! Yeah. That’s exciting. Maybe I’ll finally meet Dermot.”

He scoffs, and I laugh lightly.

“Will you be my date for that? I mean, I know you would be anyway with the publicity stuff, but—”

“Yes. I’ll be your date,” I breathe. And somehow, in the proceeding pause, I know that we’re both smiling.

“Then I’ll apologize now because no fucking way am I letting Dermot near you.”





We stay on the phone until midnight his time, when his phone voice grows huskier with fatigue.

At 11:59 my time, the phone rings again, waking me.

“—Meyer?” I say, half muffled by my pillow.

“Wanted to spend New Year’s together twice. Make up for the ones we didn’t.” His own voice sounds muffled.

I love you runs through my brain, addled as it is. Like it has a hundred times in a hundred daydreams before, so crystal clear I’m not positive I didn’t actually verbalize it. “Okay.”

He must have a countdown on in the background, because eventually I hear it get to ten. “Jones, I hope this year is the best year yet,” he says over the sound.

…Five, four, three, two, one.

“Happy New Year, Meyer. It already is.”

“Me too. Goodnight, Fee.”

“‘Night.”





27





NOW





MEYER


“Tell me something I don’t know about you,” Fee says.

It’s day two of the new year and it already feels like we’re catching up to this new rhythm in this new dance. Where we both know that this has traveled across borderlines into something new. Excited, but checking our pace against each other with every step, too. We talk or text throughout the day, sharing trivial details with one another, funny videos or observations. Things that aren’t out of the ordinary for us, but have increased in frequency and morphed in tone. Somehow, via phone, I think we’re… flirting?