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Overheard in my hospital�s hallway today:
Expectant mom: �Elizabeth, slow down! Wait for me!�
Four-year-old daughter: �Aww, Mo-o-o-m! You�re just too pregnant!�
Heh. You just wait, Elizabeth.
Last night, I walked in to the apartment to find Chris sitting on the couch, looking pained.
�How attached are you to this phone number, and how do you feel about having it changed?� he asked me.
�Why? What happened?�.
He came home Wednesday to find a panicked message on our answering machine. An unfamiliar-sounding voice said, �Hi, um�this is a message for Jennifer�I hope this is still the right number. I haven�t tried to reach her here in a couple years�This is Heather. I really need her to call me back. It�s important.�
The call was from a Rhode Island number. It came in at 11:17 a.m.
Chris, thinking it was our old friend Heather, who we hadn�t spoken to in ages (she was the Artboy�s roommate before the house fell apart and he moved into the Gallery space), called her back.
It wasn�t our friend Heather.
Way back in the early days of my living in the city, in the fledgling stages of my relationship with the Artboy, his roommate Brendan dated a girl, Heather H.
Heather H. was somewhat certifiable. She was also very young (still under 21) and extremely immature. Brendan kind-of used her, to be honest, but she seemed to only be attracted to men who would use her. She was that kind of girl.
As the story goes, she was also a girl who had a strange fascination with sticking things into her butt, but that�s not really important right here.
Long after she and Brendan stopped dating, she continued to hang around the house, hoping someone would pay attention to her. I felt bad for her, took pity on the lost puppy act, and continued to be nice to her long after everyone else who lived there had moved past being openly hostile to outright ignoring her presence completely.
She used to call me a lot, actually. Finally, the calls dropped off and Heather disappeared into my memory.
In the past month or so, however, I�ve mentioned her a couple times. In fact, the Artboy, Brendan and I discussed her at the Gallery opening just before Halloween.
Apparently, I conjured her up. Like naming the Dark One in a Robert Jordan book.
So she called me on Wednesday. And Chris, worried, called her back. It didn�t take him long to realize he had the wrong Heather. Or to wish he�d never picked up the phone in the first place.
She talked to him�or rather, at him�for 45 minutes. About her life, and the divorce she�s going through, and her 3-year-old-daughter, and how she needed a new place to live and was Chris interested in being her roommate once I moved out, she remembered where the apartment was. She told him that she continues to hang out at the Behan, right around the corner from the old Artboy house, so she�s in the area frequently. Perhaps she�d stop by some night.
I told Chris that I was going to stop answering the phone. And if I did answer, and an unfamiliar voice asked for Jennifer, I would say I wasn�t home, and tell the caller my name was Meghan. There are no Meghans in my life. She wouldn�t suspect.
Part of me feels really badly about that. Like I should pick up the phone and call her back, like I�m failing her by not returning the call.
Then I remember what life with Heather around was like.
I can�t be Heather�s savior. Hell, I can�t be anyone�s savior.
After Chris told me, I called the Artboy�s cellphone, fully expecting him to be at a Gallery meeting with Brendan, figuring I could leave a message and they could get a good laugh. Of course, his schedule has changed and Gallery meetings are on Mondays now. He answered on the second ring. He knew it was me. He has caller ID on his cellphone.
I was immediately flustered, having been well into drafting my message in my head. He laughed at my obvious surprise at hearing his voice. �But, Jennifer, you called me! Why didn�t you expect to talk to me?!�
I told him about Heather�s call to the house. We laughed about it together. It was a nice conversation with no weird complications. I wasn�t sorry he�d answered.
So�
Anyway�
Tonight, I�m having a Longaberger Extravaganza at my mom�s. Trying my hardest to earn some free stuff. So far, I�m not doing too badly!
Tomorrow, I�m spending with the Boyfriend. Just the Boyfriend. No one else. He has no idea what we�re doing. I thought we�d go to breakfast, then head to Target to register (his new favorite pastime�he loves the little scanner guns), then drive down to Providence and play skee-ball at Dave and Buster�s. I have a weird skee-ball fascination. Not something I can explain, but there it is.
I�ll let y�all know later who wins. Hope there are some good prizes in the arcade.
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