Page 125 of Untouchable

"Thank you, Mindy. I'll, uh—I'll call back if I need to reschedule."

“He wouldn’t do that, you know. Parker’s a good person. He wouldn’t just… drop off the map,” Mindy says, her tone accusatory.

"I wouldn't have blamed him," Harp says, and he nearly drops the phone when the words are out of his mouth. He's making a whole hell of a lot of assumptions about what Parker shares with Mindy, and if they haven't shared what happened eventually up on Blowjob Mountain, Harp sure as hell hopes he hasn't just gotten Parker fired somehow.

There’s a long pause, and Mindy’s voice is less icy when she replies. “Maybe you should tell himthat.”

He knows she's right. He knows it's overdue that they talk.

"Thanks for the, um. Clarification. About my appointment," Harp says. "Any chance you know when he'll be done with clients for the day?"

“Well, that depends. What are you going to tell him?”

Harp would laugh but something like a serrated edge in Mindy's voice cautions him.

"I guess I'll know when I talk to him," Harp admits. "His... what... Whatever he wants is the only thing I want. Out of... massage therapy."

There’s a long pause and Harp can hear the background noise at the Rocky Mountain office. “Well, in that case, I’d call his cell phone number, which I believe you have, and I’d call him at eight which is when he usually gets home from the gym.”

"Thank you, Mindy. I'll—yeah—thank you."

“Also—” Mindy says. “Parker’s a sucker for sweeping romantic gestures. That kind of thing goes far with him. Just something to think about when you… discuss your therapy.”

“You’re—thanks, Mindy,” Harp says, feeling dazed. He can’t believe Mindy is still willing to help him, and he wonders if Parker actually spilled the beans about what Harp had told him in the car.

They hang up and the flow of the day moves on as Harp waits until 8 p.m. to come. He feels alternately happy and anxious all day, losing track of what he’s doing over and over again because he abruptly can’t stop thinking of Parker, of the taste of him, of the sight of him arching into Harp’s hand.

The sunlight dies and it feels as if it’s midnight when eight actually approaches.

Harp has been staring at his cell phone for what feels like hours. He waits to dial until 8:02, as if the 120 additional seconds will give Parker more time to... what, get ready to have whatever conversation they're going to have? About what even?

Christ, I've never been more lost in my life, Harp thinks as he brings up Parker's contact information and taps the number.

* * *

Parker’sjust pulling on his pajamas, his hair still damp from the shower, when he gets a call. He answers without looking, assuming it’s his mother calling him back about Thanksgiving details. He tucks the phone against his shoulder and his ear as he walks into the kitchen.

“Hey, Mom,” he says. “So do you want me to make it ahead of time or wait and do it there?”

"Parker? Hey, Parker, it's Harp."

Parker’s heart just about stops. He is so surprised that his head snaps up, and his phone falls to the linoleum of the kitchen floor with a loud clatter. He scoops it up quickly—luckily the screen is okay.

“Harp?” Parker chokes out. “What—why—is Bo okay?”

He feels idiotic that that’s the first thing out of his mouth, but after his terrible weekend, he’d managed to convince himself he’d never hear from Harp again. He’d been in something close to a state of shock when he’d driven home, and Mindy had immediately hauled him into her bed, where they’d cuddled for a long time as Parker had shared the details he thought were most relevant. Namely, that they’d kissed, they’d been happy, and then suddenly everything had gone wrong.

"Bo? Bo the dog?" Harp asks. "Of course." There’s a pause. "I'm watching him dominate the dog bed while Petunia and Gunny look forlornly at him. Why do you ask?"

“Oh,” Parker says. He looks around the kitchen, suddenly lost. He’d been starving a moment before, but his appetite is gone now. He pulls a bag of frozen broccoli from the freezer. “I—I thought that might be why… why you were calling me. Um… why are you calling me?”

It’s pathetic, but the thing he feels most is the simple relief of hearing Harp’s voice, like a balm on a burn, cooling the stinging in his heart that’s been there for days now.

"I didn't realize this week was Thanksgiving. I thought you would be coming up and I could talk to you then," Harp says. "That's why I didn't call or try to follow up or—well, to be honest, I thought you might want me to just leave you alone, but when I talked to Mindy, it sounded like—"

“Oh no,” Parker says. “What—you talked to—when did you—what did she say?” He panics, wondering what on earth Mindy might have said. He trusts Mindy absolutely, but he also had spent all weekend crying in her bed, and he’d die if Harp knew that.

"I thought you cancelled my appointment," Harp says, backtracking and explaining the robocall, the misunderstanding and his conversation with Mindy. "But she said you wouldn't just do that and... I don't know, I didn't know what you told her. It sounded like I should call you—and I wanted to call you earlier—I just didn't think you'd want—after what I said—and the way I acted—"

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