“Look, I can’t give you details, but I’m fine. And I am using someone else’s phone and it’s about to die. Plus, seems that technology on coverage is a bit lagging here.”
The pause at "someone else" was noteworthy.
Michael tried hard not to look over at Lisa, who attempted for the third time to get word to her family that she was alive. Minus details of his heroic rescue, her idiotic car, or being in the vicinity of Presley enemy number one. Wouldn't want to give Mommy Dearest a heart attack for Christmas. Or have dude's sparse hair get even sparser. Well, mission accomplished, despite the less than reliable cell service out here. Gosh, she was so spoiled- expecting perfect connections out here in the untouched country, during a storm. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught her looking at him as if she was actually going to give him hell for having an almost empty battery. The gall! It beat her dead one any day.
“Yes, I will call you as soon as I get to a town, village, manger... something. … I will try…. Yes. I’m sorry. Tell, Mom to chill. What? It’s breaking up again. Say that again? Lucky? …”
Lucky? Who the heck was that? Surely that wasn’t what she called her husband? That was more of a dog’s name. Or a hamster. Goldfish, maybe. He needed to suggest that to the kids.
Poor Lisa. She had it tough, though. Calling her hubby by his own given name might be odd.
Michael tried hard to not smirk. The irony of the whole same name thing always had both amused and annoyed him. At times it had been almost torturous to imagine Lisa saying his name when the other guy held her. Did it sound the same? Did her voice break? Did her cries sound breathless and hoarse?
Shit, Mike. You better get it together. It’s none of your business what she sounds like when she’s giving it to her legally wed husband.
Hopefully, the car was too dark to give away his blushing.
“Okay, I gotta go. Not much happening with that connection. Yes…” He caught the glance she shot him from below those heavy lids. “You, too.”
Oh, lovely. Whispers of love. Perfect. At least she had the decency to look somewhat embarrassed.
You better get it together. She is married. Why would she not say she loves him? If she does...
Because Lisa had been married to that other loser as well. And sworn up and down she never loved him. Make that losers, plural.
“Not like I love you, Michael. Nothing like I love you. I’ve never loved anyone like that. I never will. Nothing can kill me like that.”
Swallowing hard, he pushed the voice aside. Tried to erase the memory. Forced himself to wipe away the image of lowered eyes, tears decorating her eyelashes.
Her sighing in a very demonstrative way brought him back to her now. Yeah, what a hardship to be here in the car with him. Using his blanket and his phone.
YOU ARE READING
Whiteout
Fanfiction"Shit- let me look at that....can you scoot over?" The apparition ignored my request. As my eyes adjusted, I knew I was dreaming. Or dying. This had to be a pre-death hallucination. "Man- if you got a phone you might wanna call an ambulance...cause...
