Hell, it hadn’t even begun.
* * *
Holly looked at her watch. Eight fourteen a.m. Not even a minute had passed since she’d last looked. Was it too early to call Mark? It was Monday, but it was a holiday. He’d given the students his cell number, but he might not appreciate such an early call on a holiday.
Frantically, she picked up her own cell and dialed. Her heart beat like a stampede of buffalo. She’d risk Mark’s wrath. She needed to talk to Jack, to tell him how she felt, and why she’d left.God, please let him understand.
Five minutes later, Jack’s number programmed into her cell, she listened to the ringing on the other end. It wasn’t ringing, actually. It was Glen Campbell singing “Rhinestone Cowboy.” She couldn’t help but smile. Jack hadn’t even been alive when that song was popular.
“This is Jack,” came his whiskey-smooth voice.
“Jack? It’s me.”
A pause. A long pause. A pause so fucking long Holly thought for sure the earth had revolved once around the sun already.
Then, finally, “Holly.”
She sighed. “Yeah, it’s me. Listen, I want to apologize for—”
He cut her off. “Was it an emergency, Holly?”
“Well, not exactly, but—”
“Is someone dead?”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“No. Of course not. No one’s dead.”
“Anyone in the hospital?”
“No. Jack, just listen—”
“Then there isn’t any reason why you couldn’t come tell me before you left. Hell, I’d have driven you home. I’d have done anything for you.”
Her heart skipped, and tears blurred her vision. “Oh, Jack. Please. I do have an explanation.”
“Not one I care to hear.”
“But I—”
“Goodbye, Holly.”
“Jack!” Had he hung up?Damn these cell phones! They won’t even tell you when someone hangs up on you!
“Jack! Jack!”
No reply.
A sob broke through, and she threw her cell phone against the wall. It clattered to the ground. She ran to it, relieved it was still intact for the most part. She slid the battery cover back in place and hit redial.
More Glen Campbell.
He didn’t answer, and it didn’t go to voicemail.
Damn! She tried again. Still no answer.