Maybe Later(56)

JSpear84: You’re not giving him a chance?

AWalk90: Nope, I think that’s all the dating I can handle for the year. I’ll change my number and start fresh next spring.

JSpear84: You would change your number to avoid him?

AWalk90: He’s a serial killer. I should be moving to another country. What if he’s busy killing his latest victim and I’m next?

JSpear84: You have an overactive imagination.

AWalk90: …

JSpear84: What if he is busy with work or traveling?

AWalk90: I have things to do, Spearman. If we continue this conversation, I’ll have to bill you overtime and charge it as emotional counseling.





Chapter Twenty-Eight





Jack


Thursday, May 19th, 9:28 a.m.



I’m unsettled. Short tempered and unable to concentrate. It’s been two days since the first time I called her. And as she promised, she wouldn’t answer calls from the guy who ghosted her. Every time I dial her number, her stupid voicemail picks up immediately. She’s not even screening my calls. Did she change her number? I’m going to have to visit the bookstore on 3rd.

“This is Emmeline. You know what to do.”

“Em,” I say resigned to leave her a message. “It’s Jack, I’ve been calling you for the past couple of days, and the call goes directly to voicemail. Are you okay?”

I pause, staring at my screen. Should I send a message to Amy and tell her the truth?

“I want to apologize for being out of touch for the last couple of weeks. Between my work and family, I haven’t had time for myself. Plus, I had a few things to sort out. The last time we saw each other was intense. You were right, we’re not ready to jump into something serious, but for a moment I wanted … fuck, I sound like a fool. It’s Friday—”

The stupid machine cuts me off. Damn it. I call again.

“As I was saying. It’s Friday, and I wanted to see if you wanted to go to the gallery down in Cherry Creek. We could get dinner afterward maybe have some wine. I scored some tickets for Smashing Pumpkins tomorrow, Saturday. I know they’re an old band, but I thought you’d get a kick out of a blast from the past.”



Thursday, May 19th, 12:43 p.m.



Emmeline: I got your voicemail. I’m fine, but busy. FYI, it’s Thursday. Smashing Pumpkins are playing tomorrow, Friday.

Jack: What are you doing tonight?

Emmeline: The 1975 is playing at Red Rocks tonight.

Jack: Just got you a pair of tickets, I’ll pick you up at 5:30.

Emmeline: I just made a comment, I mean, I have my ticket.

Jack: You’re going by yourself?

Emmeline: I usually do. It’s me and their music. Most likely I won’t even notice you’re there so you can come or not.



I get it, you’re pissed at me because I didn’t call until now. Let’s make perfect Jack behave like a prince. I’ll call Jeannette, my sister, to ask for guidance.



Jack: I’ll pick you up at 5:30.

Emmeline: I’ll be safer if I go in my own car.



I laugh, at least she listened to me but what the fuck am I going to do if she asks me for my last name?



Jack: Safer?

Emmeline: I just realized that there’s a lot I don’t know about you. What if you’re planning on kidnaping me?

Jack: If I wanted to kidnap you, don’t you think I would’ve done it before. We already rode to Aspen and back. You are safe.



Thursday, May 19th, 2:31 p.m.



Jack: Em, what’s going on?

Emmeline: Busy, I don’t have time to argue.

Jack: Five-thirty at your place.

Emmeline: Sorry, let’s try something over the weekend.

Jack: Smashing Pumpkins tomorrow?

Emmeline: Call me tomorrow.





*



Thursday, May 19th, 11:31 p.m.



AWalk90: I’m at the hospital.

JSpear84: What happened to you?

AWalk90: It’s Ramen.

JSpear84: What happened to her?

AWalk90: I dropped my cats at the boarding place earlier today. They called to let me know that Ramen’s been injured.

JSpear84: You’re not making any sense.



Against my plan to keep things separate between Jack and Jackson, I call her hoping she has her personal phone.

“Hi,” she answers.

“Hey, I know it’s late. Can you talk?”

“Maybe later?” she says with a shaky voice.

“Where are you?” I ask, trying to speed things up because I hate knowing she’s alone.

“I’m at the animal hospital. Ramen …” she sobs.

“Text me the address, I’ll be right there,” I tell her.



Friday, May 20th, 12:08 a.m.



I arrive at the animal hospital. Emmeline is the only one in the waiting room. She clutches a black duffle bag to her body. Once I get closer, I notice it's a fabric kennel. One of her cats is inside.

“Hi,” I greet her, squatting right next to her.

My heart squeezes when I see her red eyes filled with tears.

“Hey,” she says with a sob.