Continued from Part 3 – How Long is Too Long
It took a few days for my mobile phone to ring back, well, vibrated actually. I glanced at it and saw Nick’s number come up on the caller ID, but since I was at work and in group meeting I couldn’t take it. I felt a sense of relief that he called finally. At least I knew he was still alive. My spirits were up. Maybe Nick wouldn’t need drug abuse treatment of even medical detox. Maybe he had taken an impromptu trip to Europe again. He’d done that numerous times in the past. Although, when he did it before I always received at least an email and a picture of him somewhere by the Eiffel Tower, a camel, the Sydney Opera House, on a boat in a one of the many Amsterdam channels. Suffice it to say, I always knew where he was.
As I sat in the meeting, doing the best I could to pay attention, my mind wondered, I wondered. Where had he been? What had he been up to? I’m not 50 years, old, although I am getting there soon enough, I can image that when I reach the age, I will want to do something fun, crazy, and well something as a testament to my youth. Yes, at 46 I am STILL in my youth. Maybe Nick wanted to just cut loose, not be responsible to anyone but himself. Maybe he climbed a mountain and turned around, saw his reflection in a snow covered hill…am I quoting Stevie Nicks? I think you might get the point though.
When the meeting ended, I excused myself, and listened to the message. “It’s Nick. Call me when you get a second.” That was it. No inflections. Just flat. Nothing about why he was missing in action, or even a response that he’d received my message.
What was I supposed to do with that? Well, the only thing I could do was to call him back. So I did. His voice seemed different, but he could be at work, so I let it go.
“How was your birthday?” I asked, trying hard to sound matter-of-fact and failing miserably.
“Was good? How are you doing? How’s work?” Clearly a deflection.
There was a tinkling of glasses in the background and indistinct chatter. Noise I’d heard thousands of times before. It was a knee jerk reaction. I checked my watch. It was nearly 12:30 in the afternoon in Boston, which is where I assumed him to be. Is he in a bar? I asked myself. “Are you in a bar?” I said allowed before I could stop myself.
He snickered, paused. “No.”
My work was cut out for me.
Check out Part 5 @ More Questions Than I Started With