Timing is everything

​Usually up and about at this hour, she groaned and rolled onto her elbows. A tattered plastic bag trapped in a tree outside her window shimmied piteously.  Basketballs bounced between her temples. Her tongue felt like a spoonful of desiccated oatmeal.
 
She had thought he might be different, genuine- not like the other Don Juan con artists. But waiting for him to call last night, she had been forced to drain a bottle of wine- alone. Thanks to the Pinot Grigio, she was now bedbound- too groggy to even contemplate rising.
 
To compound her discomfort, the phone lit up beside her, clattering horribly as it vibrated on the bedside table. The final insult was seeing his picture – a picture of them both together- smiling affectionately at one another. She hesitated but could not resist the siren’s call.
 
‘What do you want,’ she barked hoarsely. 
 
‘I wanted to see how you were. Really, I just wanted to see you. May I stop by?’
 
‘Your timing is pretty lousy! Where were you last night, when you were supposed to “stop by”?’ 
 
‘Didn’t you get my note? I left you a note. I had an urgent call from my father’s caretaker. They thought that he’d taken a turn for the worse, but everything was OK in the end. When I was finally able to leave the hospital, it was so late that I didn’t want to wake you—even though I really wanted to see you. I explained everything in the note.’
 
She desperately wanted to believe him, to let herself fall into his arms, into his soothing voice, into the undeniable comfort of him. But bitter experience pricked her dreamy balloon and snapped her back to reality.
 
She clenched her jaw resolutely and said, ‘I’m not falling for another line. There’s no note here. You’re covering something up, and I have no time for more lies.’
 
‘Please believe me, ‘ he pleaded. ‘Listen, let’s grab a coffee and talk this through.’
 
‘Too little, too late. Timing is everything. We’re through!’ She snorted and hung up on him.
 
As she slouched off to the bathroom, a white fleck caught her bleary eye. Wedged under the doormat was a slip of paper- one tiny corner peeping out.
 
Timing really is everything she thought ruefully.


​9 April 2019