Penn Station is alive with people headed everywhere. Having just said goodbye to her mother, Theresa walks the way back to the metro.
Her black case chooses to ring at that exact moment, displaying a particular name she is particularly inclined to answer.
"Hi."
"Hey, Jake calling. Stephan asked me to tell you he's been pulled into a last-minute trip."
"Oh, all right."
"Yeah, he'll be out for the next two weeks. He said he couldn't get a hold of you earlier so I'm calling now."
"No problem. If you really need to reach me, I have another number." Why did she say that?
"Oh great, yeah text me it, Stephan must have it but forgot to give me."
Well, shit.
"He just wanted you to know he had to cancel all, I believe the word he used was 'appointments'."
Her silvery laugh, a rather nervous one, floats through the phone. "I realised, Jake."
Not that it is his business to know, but he can't help asking as the line falls silent. "Don't you want to know where he's going?"
Her laugh is flustered this time. "We – it's not like that. Actually, I need to go."
"Oh, um –"
What is it with metro cars arriving precisely when it is convenient for her?
Two weeks without either of the boys, she'll cope.
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Emotional Outlets | ✓
ContoIn which a hooker falls in love with her client's roommate. snippet: "She'd wanted to slap him. Right across that goddamn handsome face. But then again, he is right. Isn't he? She is actually a whore. Isn't she?"
