Say Goodnight Before You Leave

30. Summer Dreams

Present. Orlando, Florida.

"Where do you think Mads went?" Dallas asks.

Waking up from my trance I notice I've been staring at an uncomfortable couple under the window I'm supposedly looking at. I turn my head to him in a second, across the table licking jam off of his fingers. I swallow dry.

"Oh, don't ask me," I say, to which he responds with a soft laugh.

I take a bite of my toast, trying hard to bring my mind away from Mads. He is the last thing I want to have my mind marinating in, but since yesterday's morning, he hasn't come around and neither did he turn up at our door today to have breakfast with us like he usually does. I kept up my pride and refused to go knock on his, maybe it's the moment he decides this is a bad idea after all.

My phone vibrates on the table and I urgently pick it up, unidentified number.

"Hello?"

"Where are you?" Mads voice sounds, hoarse but excited, making my heart skip a beat.

Fuck, Maysilee, get a grip.

"Where did you get my number?" I ask, recalling I haven't given him.

"Weaston, of course."

"Surprising."

"Is it Mads?" Dallas asks. I nod.

"I thought about calling you months ago, but I assumed you would block me."

"No... Okay, maybe. Or I would just be silent until you hang up."

He laughs. "When I asked him, he told me you'd prefer to get a letter if I was really willing to get you, that you'd find it more romantic and considerable. I had to hold back a lot because of you."

"I might have told him that I wasn't a big enthusiast of text messages and emails, but that was ten years ago. But at the rate we're going, an email wouldn't be so aromantic."

"Then pen to paper would mean someone is head over heels in love, right?"

I smile. "Perhaps."

"I might know a thing or two about that." We stay in silence for a second. "So, where are you?"

"Breakfast, where have you been?"

"I overslept, that meeting extended for the whole afternoon, then they took me to the other side of town just to shake hands with some white collars, I came to the hotel after midnight. Were you waiting for me last night?"

I chuckle - nice try, Mikkelsen. "Not exactly, but you said you'd be there at night. You should have called since you do have my number."

"Sorry," he says, the lively tone still in his voice, "I'll be down in just a second."

"We'll be waiting for you," I say before hanging up.

Having heard half of this conversation, Dallas simply smiles at me and goes back to gagging on his stack of pancakes. And I get back to my own food, but not before having saved Mads' number on my phone - no picture for now, and no last name like he's supposed to.

Just Mads.

---

"So the meeting, how it went?" I ask from the passenger seat.

"It's the same shit, just a different day. Lick their feet, compliment the wives, laugh a lot and act a bit dumb. I'll sound like one of those hurt artistic souls, but they don't care about the meaning of the stuff we do, they just cross fingers and hope we make millions."