|
Thursday, December 02, 2004 You Can Go Home Again, Part II
Callie got into the car, pulled out of the driveway, started down the street, and reached for her cell phone. Her hands were trembling as she began to dial the number, and then she heard the phone begin to ring. After the third ring, someone picked up the phone and she heard his voice say, “Hello …” [This is part two of the story that began with the column "You Can Go Home Again," which was originally published July 15, 2003. If you haven't read part one, please click here now to read it before continuing.] The months of silent anticipation, the years of too many sleepless late-night wonderings of “what-ifs,” had now culminated into the sound of a single word . . . h-e-l-l-o, and Callie was unable to utter a sound. Again, the voice on the other end of the line, now with a bit of annoyance, said, “Hello?” Callie regained a miniscule modicum of composure and she heard herself faintly asking, “May I speak with Ryan, please?” To which the voice on the other end softened and said, “This is Ryan.” With her heart pounding, her palms sweating, and her faced flushed; she took a deep breath and said, “Ryan, this is Callie. I know it has been a long time, but …” Before she could continue, Ryan interrupted her and said, “Callie, it has been a long time, too long. I've missed you.” Nothing else seemed to matter after she heard those words – time seemed to stand still – and then she heard Ryan asking, “Callie? Are you still there?” “Yes, I'm sorry,” she answered, feeling quite foolish for becoming so lost in the moment, “What did you ask again?” “I said, would you like to meet me for lunch?” Ryan asked. “I would love to see you again, to catch up on what's been going on since we last saw one another. So, what do you say?” Callie moved the phone slightly away from her face, took a deep breath, hoping not to sound too eager, and said, “It sounds like a plan. But, I have a few errands that I really must do first. Can we meet around one?” Ryan sounded pleased by her acceptance of the invitation and said, “One sounds great. That will give me time to tie up a few loose ends here and clear my afternoon schedule so I can spend more time with you. How does Gittos sound? I'll call ahead for a reservation; a nice quiet table in the back.” Callie had always loved Gittos – the food and the atmosphere would be the perfect setting for this special reunion. “Gittos sounds heavenly. I'll see you there at one.” She disconnected from the call and glanced at her watch – eleven o'clock, two hours until she had to meet Ryan at the restaurant. Callie could think of nothing else but seeing him again. How long had it been? So much had happened; how would she even know where to begin? After her last move, they had attempted to stay in contact, but the everyday rigors of real life have a way of lying to you that one more day won't make a difference. And, then, one day turns into weeks, then months, and reaching out to re-establish that connection just keeps getting harder and harder as each day passes by. She couldn't even remember how or when they let the connection finally just slip away. Knowing that it was useless to try to think about errands, Callie decided that everything could wait until after lunch. But, since she didn't know what the afternoon held in store, she decided to call home and let her parents know that she wouldn't be home for dinner. That way, she could take care of her errands on her way back home without having to rush. Since the day was so beautiful – sapphire-blue skies, white fluffy clouds, and a nice gentle breeze – she decided to stop by the lake to relax, catch a few rays, and call home before heading to the restaurant. She dialed the number and her mother answered. “Hi, Mom. I've had a little change in plans. I'll be a little later than I thought, so don't hold dinner for me, okay?” Her mother asked, “Is everything alright?” And Callie answered, “Oh, sure, Mom, everything is fine. I'm just playing things by ear and I stopped at the lake for a while. So, instead of rushing around with my errands, I'm soaking up the sun instead.” Her mother laughed, knowing all too well how much Callie loved spending time at the lake. “You haven't done any of your errands yet, have you?” her mother asked, knowing the answer before she even finished the sentence. “Oh, Mom! It is just such a beautiful day. I got a little sidetracked, ya know. But, I'm going to make a few more phone calls, then it will be off to lunch soon, and then I'll run my errands on the way back home. I just didn't want you and Dad to be waiting on me for dinner. I'll probably just grab something quick on my way home later.” Her mother laughed again, thinking of how Callie always just seemed to never worry about plans or schedules. Little did her mother know that, behind that carefree demeanor that once was genuine, was now a soul filled with worries, doubts and fears that she tried so very hard to hide. Her mother said, “Be careful. We'll see you when you get home.” And Callie answered, “I shouldn't be too late. I'll call if I'm going to be later than seven or eight. That should give me plenty of time to get everything done and see a few friends, too. I love you. See you this evening. Bye!” She disconnected, sat back on the bench, looked out over the water for a moment, and then closed her eyes. She let the breezes blow across her face and thought about Ryan. The ringing of her cell phone startled her back into the present. She looked down to see the display and recognized the all-too-familiar number that appeared. With much hesitation, she pressed the button and said, “Hello.” Matt, without so much as a good morning pleasantry, immediately said, “I just called your Mom. She said you were out running errands and going to lunch. Where are you now?” Trying to mask the irritation in her voice, Callie paused for a moment and then said, “It is just such a beautiful day that I stopped by the lake for a few minutes before heading out to the mall.” Matt had been none-to-eager for Callie to make this trip back home. In fact, he didn't want her to come at all, but with so many things that had been happening in their lives in recent months, she needed a break and used the excuse that she hadn't seen her parents since last Christmas (which was true), and had finally just started making plans for the trip a few weeks ago, regardless of his objections. His phone call now had shattered the idyllic, peaceful feelings that she was experiencing for the first time, in a long time. He continued on, oblivious to her frustrations, “How long are you planning to stay at your parents? When are you coming back home?” At this point in time, Callie had no idea; she just knew that since arriving late last night, she could already feel some of the pressures lifting from her spirit. Now, with this phone call, the tension was once again creeping back in. “Matt, I really don't know. I just got in late last night. I hit rain halfway here and the trip took a lot longer than I expected. That's why I called and left the voice mail message at home. I had no idea what time I would make it in last night. And, this morning, of course Mom made a huge breakfast, and I dashed out right after to go shopping. I was going to call you a little later, but you beat me to the punch.” She waited to hear his response and heard nothing but cellular static. Then, his voice came back clearly on the line and he said, “Well, when you decide what your plans are, let me know. I'll be home around five, so give me a call after that.” Callie took another deep breath and said, “I was going to try to get in touch with Renee a little later. If she is home, I was going to drop by to see her before heading back home. How about I give you a call around nine or so? That will give me plenty of time to get back home and settle in for the evening.” Matt seemed a little irritated, but relented by saying, “Okay. Tell Renee that I said hello and give me a call around nine. I'm heading back to work. Don't spend too much money!” And, with that, no good-bye, just dead air as he clicked off his cell phone. With a heavy sigh, Callie shifted forward on the bench, laid her cell phone down, glanced at her watch, and then tried to erase the last several minutes with a few deep breaths. She leaned back and looked up at the clouds as they floated lazily by, blown wistfully by the wind. She looked back out over the water again and saw the clouds reflected in the water, and felt the cool breeze against her skin. She closed her eyes and let her thoughts return to Ryan. The rush of anticipation was high so, with another glance at her watch, she decided to leave for the restaurant to have plenty of time to avoid any unforeseen delays. This was one time where “fashionably-late” was not an option. She wanted to have a chance to touch up her hair and make-up, and already be seated and waiting at the table when Ryan arrived. Callie pulled into the parking lot twenty minutes early and slid into a just-vacated parking space near the door. She picked up her purse and walked into the cool, dark vestibule where she was greeted by the maitre d' with a cheerful “Buon Pomeriggio! “ She smiled and replied, “Good Afternoon! We have reservations for two at one p.m. I'm a little early so I'm going to pop into the ladies room first.” The maitre d' smiled and said, “Your table is ready and waiting. I'll be happy to show you to the table when you return.” She remembered every inch of this restaurant, and turned to go down the hallway on the left toward the ladies room. She quickly checked her hair to make sure the breezes at the lake hadn't done too much damage, reapplied her lipstick, and returned to the vestibule where the maitre d' was waiting. He gestured toward the entrance to the dining room and led Callie through a maze of tables to a secluded table in the rear of the restaurant. As they approached, she saw a table which stood out from all the others – two tall, flickering tapers were placed on either side of a vase which held a large bouquet of apricot-colored roses and an abundance of baby's breath, with a card conspicuously tucked inside. Sitting to the side of the table was a wine cooler with a bottle, already chilling. The maitre d' turned to her and smiled, pulled out her chair without a word, and simply walked away. Callie looked around and suddenly realized that she was the only one in this entire section of the restaurant. She reached over and pulled the small envelope from the bouquet of roses and saw her name written across the front. She smiled and turned it over, opened the flap and, as she slowly removed the card, she looked up to see Ryan walking toward her . . . [to be continued . . . ] Originally published Friday July 25, 2003 (bw) 2003 © Copyrighted Materials - All Rights Reserved. Susan Reno-Gilliland A Southern Belle's Life # posted by Kitty : 3:34 PM
|
Comments:
Post a Comment
 
   A very special THANK YOU to coolmattyg for making these wonderful banners for me! The ads that appear through this ad-exchange do not necessarily reflect the views of the author of this page. Promote your blog for free
READ.THIS --  Skin created by Tuskudrusla. Skin slightly "tweaked" by "A Southern Belle's Life" author. |
About Me
"a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma" --- Miss Kitty, an Irish lass, a true Southern Belle; writer, photographer, artist, interior designer, animal-lover, dreamer, stargazer, cop-groupie, 70's junkie, cbc, slightly obsessive iNFp with stories to tell! ... (fascinated by forensics, human behavior, pushing all the right buttons of men she finds interesting, and seeking utterly-sweet revenge without any repercussions. ) --- "Darlin', don't ever take a Southern woman for granted!" [tm] Feeling the uncontrollable urge to shower me with gifts?!? Check out my Amazon 
Friday's Child is loving & giving We've been accepted by Chase's Calendar of Events to promote the annual event each April for Southern Belles' Month! A Southern Belle's Life "Darlin', don't ever take a Southern woman for granted!" (tm)                          ![[ Registered ]](http://www.diarist.net/registry/button3.gif){kind=small}
  This Writer's Works
~ A Southern Belle's Life e-mail me either at:  or the address we are using for all of our activities for the upcoming annual Southern Belles' Month event each April  
Feeling generous? Donate through Your donations are GREATLY appreciated! Thank you for reading my blog. ♪ 51313 Harbor Street ♪ All About Amber ♪ An American Housewife ♪ Bad Monkey No Banana ♪ Coffee Table Declarations ♪ Fractured Somehow ♪ In High Cotton ♪ I Wasn't Always Like This... ♪ Knight Writer ♪ Nickle Annie ♪ Patricia Paris ♪ Sigmund, Carl and Alfred ♪ sugarfused.net ♪ Trixie's Home ♪ Unexpected Liberation ♪ War Child ♪ Why Not - Right? ♪ World According To Tish, The Blogroll Me! ♪ IMBd ♪ PostSecret ♪ Urban Legends ♪ Wish Jar Journal ♪ Breast Cancer Research Foundation ♪ Elizabeth Glaser Pediatric AIDS Foundation, The ♪ Leary Firefighters' Foundation, The ♪ Michael J. Fox Foundation ♪ National Center For Victims of Crimes, The ♪ Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network (RAINN) ♪ Red Cross, The ♪ Victory Junction Gang, The  "Blonde" I May Be Blonde, But ... (don't let that fool you!) Many of the entries you will read in this blog were originally published under my alter-ego (pictured above) during the last eighteen-plus months. Sometimes we realize that what began as one thing mutates into something else entirely. Therefore, I wanted to salvage my previously published works on a site that was strictly controlled by me. I hope you will enjoy at least some of what you read, and will leave your comments along the way. Thanks for your indulgence. When a Writer’s integrity and a Site’s standards ultimately end up at diametrically opposite ends of the spectrum, it is time for the Writer to sever the association if the Writer hopes to maintain their reputation as a legitimate Writer. "To live a creative life, we must lose our fear of being wrong." ~ Joseph Chilton Pierce "Art, like morality, consists in drawing a line somewhere" ~ Gilbert Chesterton (1874-1936) "This kind of certainty comes but once in a lifetime." ~ 'Robert Kincaid' [TBOMC] "Love that we cannot have, Is the one that lasts the longest, Hurts the deepest, And feels the strongest!" ~ Unknown And, on that final note, I will (once again) leave you with a very wise quote from Oscar Wilde ... "Do you really think it is weakness that yields to temptation? I tell you that there are terrible temptations which it requires strength, strength and courage, to yield to." Archives |
