Page 7 of Wrong Number, Right Unicorn

On that we were in agreement.

“Do you have the five hundred dollars?” I asked.

The guy’s face flushed, and I regretted being such a hardass, but I had to make him see sense.

“No, I… sorry.” He studied his nails.

“Grams needs the money and I’ve got it, so let me bail her out.”

“Who does that? Posts bail for a complete stranger? You’re not a loan shark, are you?”

“Nope. Just a guy at the end of a wrong number.”

He nibbled his nail. “Okay, but I’ll pay you back at the end of the month.”

I hated that he didn’t have any spare cash. No emergency fund for when the car broke down, or he needed an X-ray, or bail money for his grandmother.

“I heard what the cop was saying. Do you need any help?” I placed the money in his hand and curled his finger over it.

“You’ve done enough. No, it’s fine. I can deal with her.”

I pictured him bundling his grandma into the trunk of his car and taking her to a deserted cabin in the woods.

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. I’ve been down this road many times.”

I couldn’t barge into his relationship with Grams more than I already had, so I let it go. My mind zipped ahead decades, and I saw myself in Grams’s place. There might not be anyone advocating for me as this guy was for her. But my life choices had little to do with what was happening here.

“I’ve got your number, so I’ll text you when I have the cash.” He grabbed both my hands, his skin soft and warm. “I promise.”

“Nah, that was a landline.”

His eyes widened. “Wow! It’s rare to see anyone with a landline, except, you know…”

“Old people?”

He caught my eye, and we burst into laughter. I explained why I had one, and his eyes misted up.

“That’s sweet. I hope your grandfather is sitting beside the goddess, telling her ‘That’s my grandson.’”

Now it was my turn to get teary-eyed. That was the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to me.

“I don’t even know your name.” Taking out my phone, I had my finger poised above New Contact.

“Errol.”

“Nice to meet you, Errol.”

“Sorry, what was your name again?” He jerked his head toward the doorway. “There was so much going on in there, I didn’t catch it.”

“Davien.”

He repeated it, letting the vowels and consonants slide over his tongue. “Davien.”

We shook hands before exchanging phone numbers. I was eager to get a glimpse of Grams, but that was kinda yucky, like she was a lab specimen or a zoo animal.

I was tempted to ask if he needed a ride or money for food, but he might be insulted, and I bit back my questions.

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