Beach Day

33: Family History

She sets the phone on the table while it rings and flips through a few more pages while she waits, breath caught in her throat. Notes scratched on overcrowded paper, between quick sketches of diagrams in these pages— it's a symphony of madness and disgust, and it doesn't have a part for the French horn. There isn't a convenient breath mark or a quarter rest to utilize, so she chooses to just hold it.

The other end picks up after a few rings. Denny's voice comes through all the interference, groggy and gravelly. "Tiff?"

"How'd you know it was me?"

"I finally put your contact in my phone."

She titters nervously. "Took you long enough."

"Tiff, it's—" She can hear skin against skin, like Denny is rubbing from her eyes to her nose. "It's so early."

She checks the time. Somehow, the night crept on from midnight closer to four and she didn't notice. "Shoot. Sorry. I didn't realize— time isn't real for me. I rejected the gnome. I— I'm sorry. I'll call back in the morning. If that's okay? If you don't hate me forever?"

Denny sighs. it comes through like a groan in the noise. (Maybe Tiff shouldn't have made this call under a garage in the middle of nowhere in Florida.) "It's way too early for any of this. It's... it's close to two. Isn't it almost four out there? Why are you up?"

"Couldn't sleep." She turns in the chair a little, reaching for another journal. She might be too deep to stop now.

"It isn't your parents, is it? Because I know I said I wouldn't, but I will come out there—"

"No. No need. My contact with them has been... minimal. I'm fine."

"Are you?" Denny hesitates, stammers, "Do you need to talk about it?"

"No," Tiff frowns, realizing her mistake and the intrusion of doing anything more than existing. "I didn't mean to bother you. I forgot about the time difference. I'll call back at a normal time—"

"I mean, I don't mind. I just need to get out of bed without waking Jessie."

"You're at Jessie's and you took my call?"

"I mean— yeah. I care about you. Just— give me a minute. I'll call back in a minute. I need to turn off the TV and do the dishes anyway."

"I think dishes take more than two minutes."

"Oh, shush up."

"Sorry."

"Stop apologizing. I wouldn't have picked up if I didn't want to talk."

Another voice comes through on the other end, muffled by what is probably distance from the speaker. "Who're you talking to, Den?"

"Tiff— She's in Florida, still."

Jessie groans gently, muffled by both a pillow and her distance from the phone. "Why's she calling at two?"

"I don't know. I'm going to talk to her outside.

"Don't do that, it's raining."

"A little rain never hurt anybody."

"It makes you smell weird. I'll make you sleep on the couch."

"Hey," Denny laughs, "I'll leave if you make me, I don't have to be here—"

It's the last thing Tiff hears before Denny finally does what she said she would and hangs up the phone.

Tiff puts her pen cap in her mouth. She doesn't chew on it. It's just nice to have something to remind her she exists and is more than a disembodied brain whirling in a blender.