Love (In A Thousand Words)

The phone was ringing. The girl stood in her apron, hair tied up in a bun, staring tiredly at the pink contraption hanging on the wall. It wasn’t often the phone rang. She grabbed the curly cord hanging down like an afterthought and twirled it around her fingers listening to the shrill ring a couple more times.

She sighed and reached for the handset. “Good evening, this is Sarah speaking.”

Immediately, the husky, pleading voice she knew all too well came through the tiny speaker. “Miss Sarah, finally. I’d begun to think you’d left me to pine.”

“Goodness, Mr. Alex,” she replied, tucking the phone between her shoulder and ear as she leaned against the wall to pick at her fingernails, the pink phone cord still twisted around her arm. “One would think you’d manners enough not to call at half past six.”

Alex laughed. She did not. “Why, forgive me, my dear, but I simply couldn’t wait another moment. You know how I long to hear your voice.”

“And yet, here you are, disturbing a woman hard at work. Pray tell, what mischief compels you to call at this hour?”

“Alright, alright. I get it, but I needed to talk to you. It’s important.”

Her hand tightened around the phone. “Important enough to interrupt supper preparations for half the neighborhood? Your timing’s impeccable, as always.”

“I’m serious, Sarah. Please. It shan't take but a moment.”

“Well then, what is it? If you’re so determined to waste my time, at least have the decency to get on with it.”

A pause hummed through the line. 

“It’s about the letter,” he said finally, his voice quiet.

Her stomach tightened. “What letter?”

“The one I sent last week.”

“You mean the one I didn’t read?”

His laugh was short and humorless, a sharp exhale through the receiver. “I figured as much. That’s why I called.”

She closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Alex, I don’t have time for your games. If this is another one of your—”

“It’s not a game, Sarah.”

His interruption was sharp enough to make her stop. The silence that followed was thick, stretching out until she broke it.

“Then what is it?”

For a moment, all she could hear was the faint static of the connection, the distant hum of a car engine passing by on his end. She imagined him leaning against his own wall, head bowed, hand gripping the phone cord tightly like hers. 

“You’ll want to sit down for this,” he said at last.

She didn’t sit. “Just tell me, Alex.”

Nothing but buzzing, again. She was growing impatient. “Now then, Alex, what is it that you simply must tell me? I’ve half a mind to hang up and get back to supper preparations.”

“Ah, Sarah,” he sighed. “You’ve a way of making things difficult for me. Always have.”

“Perhaps if you’d stop circling about like a hawk over prey and get to the point, it wouldn’t be so difficult.” She scoffed.

Another sigh, softer this time, “I’ve been called up.”

That gave her some pause. Her grip on the phone tightened, her knuckles turning white. “Called up?” she echoed, though she understood perfectly well what he meant.

“You hear me, Sarah?” Alex urged. “They’ve drafted me. Next week I’ll be reporting to the training grounds. Then... then it’s off across the sea.”

You’re leaving,” she said, more statement than question.

“I am. Come tomorrow, I’ll be on the evening train. Orders, you see. The country calls, and a man must answer.” 

She closed her eyes for a moment, steadying herself. “But why call me, Alex? Why now? It isn’t as though I’m the one you’ll miss most.”

“Don’t say that.” His reply was swift. “Sarah, you’ve always been the one who understands me best. I couldn’t go without hearing your voice one last time.”

“You make it sound as if you’re bound for the gallows.”

“Well, there’s a thought. But no, I suppose I’d rather not think of it that way.” 

Sarah glanced at the clock, its hands ticking steadily onward, indifferent to the weight of each second that passed by.

“So, that’s it then? Just like that?” 

“Not my choice, you know that.” 

She pressed her lips together, breathing through her nose. “And what of the letter you mentioned? What was in it that you wouldn’t dare say to my face?”

“I wrote it for you,” he said, his voice almost childish now, as though he were a schoolboy confessing a crush. “Don’t laugh, but it took me near three hours to get it right. Must’ve ended up a thousand words. It was the only way I could think to say what needed saying.”

“Oh, Alex.” Her tone softened, the fight draining out of her. “You never did have a way with words, did you?”

“Well, not like you. Still, I reckon it’ll say more than I can manage right now.”

“And where is this thousand word masterpiece of yours?”

“Left it with your sister earlier today. Thought she’d give it to you straight away, but maybe she forgot, knowing her.” 

“That does sound like her.”

“Sarah, when you read it,” he paused, hesitant, “I hope you’ll understand. I didn’t want to leave things unsaid.”

“And what if I don’t understand, Alex?” She replied, her voice tight. “What then?”

“You will,” he said simply. “You always do.”

The silence returned, broken only by the faint static of the line. Alex reluctantly spoke into the phone again. “Look, I’d better go. Got to be up early tomorrow to square things away.”

“Right,” she whispered. “Of course.”

“Sarah?”

“Yes?”

“I—” He hesitated, then laughed again, nervously this time. “Well, you’ll see it in the letter. Goodbye, Miss Sarah.”

It felt final. She must have waited to reply for too long as she heard the receiver click too loudly in her ear. Sarah let the phone dangle down by the pink cord, not bothering to put it back up.

“Goodbye, Mr. Alex.”