Page 45 of When I Had You

“That’s all our conversations mean to you? Come on, Warren. Work with me here.” I like the way she’s taken up calling me by my last name. I won’t tell her that, but it’s not bad hearing it from her. She says it like it matters to her, like I do. Dumb, I know, but it feels personal with her.

“What do you want me to say? I like that you can’t stop calling me, like I’m now on speed dial as your late-night, run-through-the-day friend?”

“Yes.” She laughs right before the sound of a large crunch.

I crack up. “I’m good with that.” Getting up, I carry the phone into the kitchen. I’m not usually a snacker, but hearing her eating has made me hungry. “I just meant that I like our calls, Marina.”

“No babe or sweetheart tonight, huh?”

Chuckling, I grab the milk and set it on the counter. “It’s been a long day. I’m off my game.” I grab a bowl and fill it with granola before adding milk. Asking her out seemed to be the magic to building a friendship. I wasn’t looking for one, but I’m not upset about this direction. “Catch me tomorrow, though, and I’m all over it, babe.”

* * *

Wednesday . . .

“Hello?” 11:19. I’ve been lying in bed waiting for her to call for the past hour. I was starting to believe she wouldn’t, so I’m glad she did.

“What do you do all day?” Marina Westcott is the nosiest person I’ve ever met. And I don’t mind one bit.

“Sim driving.”

“What’s sim driving?”

Propping my pillow up on the headboard, I sit up. “Simulated. The tracks, the—”

“You fake drive when you’re not actually driving? Why don’t you just go drive a real car instead?”

“There are too many rules in place. We can’t be on the tracks except for qualifying and the race. Otherwise, we’d have an advantage.”

“Interesting.” The sound of snoring hits me.

“Brutal.” The woman gives no reprieves. “Sorry for keeping you up,” I tease.

“I’m kidding. I’m kidding.” She laughs, then asks, “So your life is all about driving? Nothing else? For fun?”

“That is fun to me.” I take a sip of water. “What do you do all day?” The quizzer has rubbed off on me. I don’t mind answering all her questions, but she has me curious about her day-to-day.

“Ah.” She perks up instantly by her tone. “If I’m on set, it’s all day. I could be there for twelve hours or more. If I’m not required to be on set, it’s a free day, though I have to squeeze in rehearsals at some point to be prepared the next day.”

“So work? That’s it?”

“Sadly, yes. Not so sadly, I have an audition this week that I’m excited about.”

I love how joy takes over her tone. She’s complicated to figure out but not when she’s happy. She exudes it from two thousand miles away. “You like auditions?”

“No, it’s not the audition. It’s the potential of where it could lead. Excitement captures her breath. She releases it and says, “Musicals and plays are fun for me, so best of both worlds.”

I understand the feeling well and grin. “That’s how I feel when I get behind the wheel on race day. Like a kid doing what he loves again.” I get up as she starts munching on chips and head into the kitchen. “You’re going to cause me to gain weight and get disqualified.”

“Sorry, it’s dinnertime here.”

“You’re having chips for dinner?”

“Well,” she says, taking a sip of something. “We also had tacos, but that was at happy hour. It’s worn off now. What’s your favorite food?”

“I’ll show you next time I see you.” Wondering who she’s happy-houring with, I ask, “Who is we?”

“If we keep making all these plans, we’ll be too busy to enjoy them. Me and Poppy. I’d say you’d like her if you met her, but do you like anyone?” She punctuates her question with a lighthearted laugh.

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