Page 8 of Tangled Up in Texas

I stuffed my hand into my pocket, nodding when my Uber pulled up, and the driver waved. Grabbing my stuff, I walked toward the car and slid in before she could come around to help me with my bag.

“Are you there?”

My breath hitched. “Oh! I’m sorry. I was getting in my Uber. What did you say?”

“I’m sure you need your phone for things, too. I’m not in a position to buy one, and—”

“Right, right.” I nodded at the redhead in the driver’s seat, confirming where I needed to go. I switched the phone to my right ear to press it against my shoulder and pulled out my wallet to ensure I had tip money. I hated paying digital tips. It felt insensitive. “I can mail it,” I said, trying to stay on track. Darlene. I needed to call Darlene. “Hey, I need you to send me a number from my phonebook...”

“No, mailing it isn’t an option. There’s a map I downloaded on there and notes I took that I’m not sure I can get back.”

“I’ll send them to you.”

“You can’t just go through some stranger’s phone!”

I started to withhold a smile, then remembered she couldn’t see me, so I breathed a laugh and rolled my eyes. “We weren’t strangers last night.”

She was silent. I wondered if I’d somehow insulted her again.

“You there?” I’d forgotten her name again. “Uh...” Crap. “You there?” I tried again. “I’ll overnight it. I promise. Just send me the address to your place, your hotel, wherever you are, and first thing I’ll do right now is mail it.”

I barely heard the sound of a soft breath on the other end of the line. When she sniffed, I realized she might be crying. What was so important for this woman that she couldn’t wait just one day for her phone? Surely, she could pull her pictures from the cloud or something. That synced automatically, right? And I’d said I would email her whatever she needed. What was the problem?

“Hey, I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to take your phone.” I laughed a little and caught the driver’s eye when she giggled softly. “I know it’s inconvenient but bear with me. We’ll work this out. I have a lot of stuff I need on my phone, too. So, let’s handle this like adults, okay? Let’s communicate, and we’ll get you your phone back.”

She sniffed, and after a long sigh, she said, “Yeah.”

“What do you need me to send you? And where did you land?” We were pulling up to the garage in the warehouse district–my temporary home. Six months, and I’d managed to lose everything.

“I’m in Dallas,” she said, and I froze.

“You’re in Dallas...” She had to be shitting me.

“Yeah, I can send you the address to my—”

“No, wait.” I shook my head. The redhead’s eyes practically bugged out of her head, probably just wishing she knew what was going on. I couldn’t blame her. I barely believed it. “I’m in Dallas, too.”

The phone line cut out. I looked down at the screen, and the call had ended. I tried to call back, but it went straight to voice mail.

“Oh, shit,” I said, remembering that my phone had been out all night. My battery life sucked because of all the crap I had on my phone, and now she was probably going to rip out her hair or something.

“Sounds like... a lot,” the woman said up front.

“Yeah.” I smiled but shook my head. “A lotis definitely what this is.”

I thanked her and got out, dragging my bags with me and handing her a few bills. The bar down the street caught my eye, and I contemplated a few beers. I wished I’d known that a night of destressing would only bring more drama. Not that it would have changed my mind. We’d connected, or I thought so. I hadn’t felt very connected during that phone call.

I needed to head to Darlene’s before she left for work, and I’d be damned if I smelled like alcohol in front of her. Hell, I’d be damned no matter what I did, but it didn’t mean I had to give Darlene the satisfaction of being right about me.

I groaned and pushed the button to slide the overhead door up. The smell of fertilizer, gasoline, and grass cuttings greeted me from the cavernous space, nearly empty now because the crews were out working. I crossed the room, weaving my way past a puddle of motor oil and stepping over some grass and leaves – I needed to get on my crew about cleaning this place. When I reached the hanging metal staircase that led up to the tiny office in the rear corner that temporarily doubled as my living space, it was a moment before I realized my phone was ringing again. I knew who it wasn’t, so I dug it out of my pocket and answered, this time with less joy since it insulted her the first time.

“Ryan speaking.”

“Hey, your phone battery sucks.”

I chuckled. “Yep.”

“We have the same phone. What is wrong with this thing?”

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