Inner Workings

Inner Workings - Part 33

Between wild blueberry preserves and organic raw honey, Milton found the dried pineapple. With a grin he put two bags in his basket. The day had actually started out well; curry and rolls for breakfast, a lazy sense of accomplishment after meeting with Rachel last night, and he did not lock himself out of the apartment when he had forgotten his briefcase. And that morning he had passed by the jazzy brunette on her way up the stairs. He hadn't said anything, didn't even make eye contact, but he managed not to trip or do something stupid. That small victory had buoyed his spirits past the lobby and out the door to do some grocery shopping before work.

Maybe when he got back to the apartment that night he would have enough courage to smile at her. He eyed the overly priced organic dark chocolates. Would it be too forward to offer her one as a hello gift? Maybe as a "hello, I'm your new neighbor" gift? But that would assume that he would be at the apartment complex for an extended period of time. Who knows where he would be after his week with Watch Two.

His cell chimed in his jacket pocket. Another request from Rachel? No, the number on the screen were unfamiliar. An old patient?

"Dr. Balcuwitz," he answered, the smile on his face.

"Oh, well I'm glad you're happy," sneered the voice on the other line.

Milton's good spirits plummeted. Tami, his ex.

"Ah... Hi. Why are you calling?"

"Look... I don't know why I'm calling," Tami's voice slurred. "I think I forgot. I shouldn't even be thinking about you. I mean, you broke it off."

A pause. Milton moved out of the way of another shopper eyeing the chocolates, bumping into the pudding display and displacing a dozen pistachio cups.

"Are you... drunk?" he hissed into the receiver, adding the fallen pudding to his basket. He imagined her drunken eyes lined with spider leg mascara. "It's nine in the morning over there."

"Hey! I don't need to explain my actions to you. I don't need to explain anything to the guy that dumped me. You are the one that needs to..." Tami hitched her voice, as if trying to keep her "breakfast" down. "...explain your actions."

Milton winced. "You want me to explain why I broke up with you? A month after the fact and after I moved?"

"Yes! Exactly!" Tami raised her voice enough to make the cell grate on his ear. Milton moved to the fresh produce aisle. "I mean... I'm pretty. I have good taste in clothing and restaurants. I listened to you when you yapped on and on about how you talk with people about their problems...

"You know what; I was too good for you. I could have anyone out there and I decided to say yes to your nerdy, clumsy, unsociable ass. So what was it, huh? Not smart enough for you? Breast implants not up to your standards?"

Milton hunched over the limes, gently squeezing a few for ripeness. "Because you tap your fingers when you lie."

Tami was silent for a blessed moment. "What?"

"When you had "lunch" with your lawyer friend and you insisted there was nothing between the two of you. You lied."

"I... you have no proof."

"I can tell when people lie Tami. And you lied again, and again, and again."

Tami's aggressive tone died down to a rumbling whine. "I... but it was just... I think I'm gonna be sick."

"Don't call again." One couldn't slam a cell down on the receiver, be he could press the hang up button with gusto.

Milton allowed himself a small smile of victory, but it was bitterly savored. Yes, he had told off his cheating, drunken ex-girlfriend. What good did that do him? If anything, the reminder of those wasted months made him feel worse. He couldn't even smile at the girl he liked.