The Call

I hear the sound of my phone alarm going off, I try to ignore it and mumble to myself “five more minutes”. The incessant ringing annoys me enough that I grab my phone to shut it off. “Damn it”, three missed calls from my boss and a voicemail saying, very adamantly, to meet her at 7 am to discuss last-minute wedding changes over breakfast. I check the time, 6:30 am. I dart out of bed, a little too quickly so I’m seeing stars. I’m rushing to find an outfit and make my hair look presentable. “Workin’ 9 to 5, what a way to make a livin’, barely gettin’ by, it’s all takin’ and no givin’”, the ringtone I set for my boss rings loudly. “Good morning Celia!” I answer the phone with feigned enthusiasm. “Thalia where are you? I’m already at the cafe, you know that I don’t like to order for myself. Get here now.” Before I can get a word out, Celia hangs up on me. I roll my eyes, it’s times like these where I question why I put up with such a bitchy boss who can’t even order herself a latte. Then I remind myself that Celia’s one of the top event planners in Washington DC, and if I ever want to come close to a career like hers I need to tough it out and stay on her good side. I’m applying the last of my makeup and I reach for my phone to text her that I’m on my way. “Holy frak!”, instead of grabbing my phone, I grabbed the hot end of the curling iron. My hand is throbbing and I run it under the cold sink water, gritting my teeth as I try to keep from crying. If I show up to breakfast with runny mascara Celia would never let me hear the end of it. I don’t have time to apply ointment to my burn so I grab a bandage from the medicine cabinet and hurry out the door.

In the fifteen minutes it takes me to get from my apartment in Foggy Bottom to the cafe in Georgetown, Celia’s called me five times. I get there and see Celia outside smoking a cigarette and I know I’m in for a long and stressful day. Celia only smokes when she’s extremely stressed out, the last time I saw her smoke was when her husband left her for his assistant who’s half his age. Cliche, I know. I can’t stand the stench of cigarette smoke, but I’ve learned the hard way to not call Celia out or question her on anything unless she asks for my opinion. So I smile and hold my breath until she puts out the cigarette and we make our way inside the cafe. “Good morning, one small caramel macchiato, one double shot oat milk cappuccino, please, and two loaves of whole wheat banana bread please,” I say to the barista. “Thalia, make sure they use oat milk and not dairy, you know how I get with dairy,” Celia tells me before leaving to go take a call. I grab our breakfast and make my way to our table, the same one we always sit at, on the corner by the window overlooking the Potomac River. 

The breakfast lasted two hours and most of that time was spent with Celia forwarding her phone calls to me. By the time I got off the phone my coffee was cold and banana bread untouched. “I have to go, the photographer for the Porter wedding tomorrow canceled last minute and the bride is complaining about the caterers. Handle the photographer situation while I deal with the bride”, Celia says to me. I wrap the banana bread in a napkin and tuck it into my purse, leave a tip, and head out to search for a photographer. After going through the list of photographers that Celia had me make ages ago for emergencies like this, I finally got one who’s available to shoot the Porter wedding tomorrow. Since it was so last minute he charged me double his fee, but all of Celia’s clients are rich and spend a ridiculous amount of money on their events, so I don’t think they’ll mind. 

After calling Celia to let her know that I resolved the photographer situation, I start to make my way to the venue to make sure everything is ready for the wedding tomorrow. While I wait for the metro my phone starts ringing, I feel like I talk on the phone more than I talk to people face to face. “Hello?” I answer. “Good afternoon Thalia, this is Michael Carlson. Just calling to confirm that everything is set for my daughter’s Quinceañera next month?” I had been expecting this call, he’s been calling every week for the past month because his wife is obsessed with making this party “the best one this family has seen”. “Good afternoon Mr. Carlson! I’m happy to report that everything is set! The DJ has been booked, the caterers that your wife liked and the photographer she approved have all been paid” I feel like a robot reciting that, it’s the same thing I say every time he calls, but it seems to satisfy him because he says “oh thank you, Thalia! I’ll be sure to tell Celia what a great help you’ve been”. 

By the time I hang up with him, my metro has arrived. It’s crowded today, more than usual, so there’s nowhere to sit. I squeeze in between a small woman who reeks of cigarettes and a man who looks so drunk I wonder how he’s still standing. I grab onto the handrail as the metro car jerks forward. Even though I have to deal with the stench of cigarettes and the lack of personal space with the drunk man constantly bumping into me, I feel relaxed here, right now. While we’re underground in the metro car my phone doesn’t work, I get a break from the constant phone calls and texts. 

It’s gotten to the point where I can predict who will be calling when. I check my watch, almost 2 pm. There are about 10 minutes left until my stop, I would be willing to bet money that not five minutes after I get to my stop my phone will be ringing, and it will most likely be the old hag Mrs. Walters. That woman is always throwing huge lavish parties with no budget and always has lists of very detailed over the top requirements. She once had a cater waiter fired and kicked out of her party for bringing her a martini without an olive in it. Her deep pockets and lavish style makes her the perfect client for Celia, and my worst nightmare. 

I step off the metro and start walking towards the venue. The all too familiar sound of my ringtone starts blaring, just as I predicted. I’m tempted to not answer this one time because I know it’s probably Mrs. Walters and after the day I’ve had I don’t think I have the patience to deal with her. The phone keeps ringing, with a sigh I give in and answer it. “Hello?” I answer, my voice monotone. I’m too tired to try to act interested in whatever Mrs. Walters current complaints are. “Thalia? It’s Ava.” I slow my pace, a bit surprised. This is not the phone call I was expecting. “Ava! How are you? I wasn’t expecting to hear from you, is everything okay?” I say as casually as I can, hoping she can’t hear the nerves in my voice. She makes me so nervous. I’ve been in love with her for years now, but I’ve never said or done anything about it because she’s married to my cousin. “I left him, Thalia. I need to see you, I’ll be in DC tomorrow. You still live in the same apartment over in Foggy Bottom right?” At this point, I’m at a loss for words, so I just answer “yes, I do”. “Perfect, I’ll see you soon,” Ava says and then hangs up.

I tried really hard to focus on work the rest of the day and making sure that everything was in place for the Porter wedding tomorrow. But I kept replaying the phone call with Ava over and over again in my head. What did she mean exactly when she said she left him? She was so vague. She didn’t say who “him” was, for all I know she could be talking about accidentally leaving her brother at the grocery store. But in my gut I knew, she left Danny, my cousin. I feel a strange mix of emotions rising in me, anxiety from not knowing why Ava left Danny and why her first instinct after doing so is to come and see me. Excitement, knowing that I’ll be seeing her tomorrow, and worry for her. Worry that Danny broke her heart and she’s in pain, worry that I won’t know what to say to her when I see her, that I won’t know how to comfort her without seeming selfish with my secret feelings.

I somehow managed to keep all of those feelings at bay and get all the last-minute preparations for the Porter wedding done. But as soon as I laid down in my bed my mind felt like it was going 1000 miles per hour. I’ve always been the type of person who solves everyone else’s problems, give the best advice, and am usually very realistic. But when it comes to Ava, I can’t trust my own judgment. I can’t see clearly when it comes to her, my feelings overwhelm me and I don’t know what’s real and what’s in my head. Over the years I’ve been pretty good at hiding my feelings for her, but at times when it was just her and I, I let my guard down. Now laying here in bed replaying the phone call, replaying everything from the past six years, a fear creeps into my mind, keeping me awake for most of the night. What if she knows how I feel? What if Danny figured it out and confronted her about it and I’m the reason for their breakup? I eventually fall asleep at around 4 am with those thoughts in my mind, which make their way into my dreams. 

I wake to the familiar ringtone of Dolly Parton’s 9 to 5, “Good morning Celia” I say. “Thalia I’m calling to remind you that you need to be at the Porter wedding two hours early today to make sure everything runs smoothly. This is a big client, I need everything to be perfect.” Celia says. I assure her I’ll be there and everything will be fine. I sit on the edge of my bed gathering the courage to get up and get ready for the day. For a brief moment, I forget about Ava’s phone call, and then it all comes flooding back. Every detail of that call, the way her voice didn’t give away anything about what was going through her mind, all of my mixed feelings about the whole situation, and the fact that I’m going to see Ava today. I force myself out of bed and throw on the dress I had picked out to wear to the wedding. Today’s going to be such a busy day, which is exactly what I need in order to keep my mind occupied and not freak the frak out over everything that’s going on. 

By the time the wedding starts I’ve checked my phone about thirty times, no call from Ava. I make myself busy, checking in on the caterers, making sure everything’s in place for the reception. As long as I keep moving and keep my mind focused on work, I can keep my emotions in check. Unfortunately, the bride’s sister, Carmen, ambushed me and insisted that I take a break and sit with her and watch the ceremony. It was absolute torture, and I felt like it would go on forever. Don’t get me wrong, it was such a beautiful ceremony, Celia would be very proud. But sitting there, listening to the Porters read their vows, all I could think about was Ava. She still hadn’t called. Maybe she changed her mind in coming to see me, maybe she and Danny worked things out and are living their happily ever after. 

After what felt like an eternity, the ceremony was over and I could finally get back to work. The reception was stunning but hectic. Celia arrived shortly before the ceremony ended and started barking orders at me the minute she saw me. Today I was grateful for Celia’s constant nagging, it helped to keep me focused on work and keep Ava out of my mind for a while. For the next couple of hours, I managed to throw myself completely into my work, finding a new task as soon as I finished the last one. At one point there was nothing left for me to do so I started helping the cater waiters by taking drinks to the tables. 

“Thalia! There you are! Please, come join me for a drink” I turn to see who’s calling me. I sigh, it’s Carmen again, the bride’s sister. I’m about to politely decline but she grabs my hand and pulls me over to her table. At first, I’m itching to leave Carmen and get back to work, but after a couple of drinks, I feel myself relaxing and having a good conversation with Carmen and her friends. She excuses herself to go to the restroom and leaves me with a half a glass of wine and her very intoxicated friends. I talk to her friends for a while, but after 20 minutes of drunken nonsense conversation, I excuse myself to go find Carmen. 

I check the bathroom, the bar, and even the bushes to make sure she wasn’t passed out drunk over there. But I couldn’t find her anywhere, so I started to make my way back to the table where her friends were. As I turn the corner I hear Carmen drunkenly yell “Thaliaaaa! I have a surprise for you!”. She comes up behind me and puts her hands over my eyes. “Carmen you’re drunk, and I don’t like surprises. Where did you disappear to for almost half an hour?” I say, but I don’t resist when she starts pushing me forward. “I was talking to a friend of yours.Trust me darling, you’ll love this surprise.” I can hear her smiling when she says that. I worry that she was drunkenly talking to Celia about me. I want to tell her to knock it off and go back to the table but Celia would have my head if I make her favorite clients unhappy. 

“Okay! Open your eyes!” Carmen removes her hands from my eyes and I turn around to ask her what is going on. “Thalia.” I freeze. I would recognize that voice anywhere, I turn around and I see her. I don’t know if it’s the four glasses of wine that I had or nerves, but I feel my blood rush to my cheeks, I start to feel a little dizzy, and everything around me disappears. I can barely catch my breath, “Ava”.