Part I – Jamey’s Wife Called

This morning, I was so ready for my next phone call.  It was going to be a major, hot, “make-up” call.  My so-called “beaufriend”  (we’re both in our sixties)  just text-mailed me his famous, ‘No joke woman - pick up the phone’, message.  (I like it when he gets manly).  

So there I was; relaxed on my chaise lounge, all good and poised for his apology.  I looked at my antique grandfather clock – 10 AM sharp.   Um, hum.  He should be calling right… about… NOW.   The phone rang.

(In my soft, sexy voice) “Hello there, GiGi here.”
“Gina?  This is Monica.”
“Monica?”
“Jamey’s wife. 
SILENCE.  (Did I hear right?)

“Mrs. Jamey Jordan.  You don’t know me, but I got your number from my sister-in-law, Vickie. (I thought: Vickie, you slut!)

Monica continued, “Gina, I really need to talk with you.  Jamey’s been in a serious accident and well, are you sitting or standing?”

I swallowed hard.  “Both.”  I croaked.  God, I hate it when people ask me if I’m sitting or standing!

I stood and started walking to the kitchen.  My heart was pounding, my breathing became ragged.  I wiped my sweaty palms on a kitchen towel and waited.  I felt, right then, that this was going to be the phone call of a lifetime.