Page 133 of First-Time Caller
“Good.” He nods, holding my eyes for another extended moment before he drops them back to our interlocked feet. “That’s . . . good.”
“Aiden,” I whisper, hating whatever this is. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” He reaches for my hands, his thumbs tracing over my knuckles. “I think I got too used to you in the spot next to me. I’ll be fine. Promise.”
I squeeze. “I like the spot next to you.”
He gives me a half smile. “Yeah. Me too.”
Aiden’s melancholy doesn’t disappear when we start the show. In fact, it gets worse. He spaces out several times. He forgets half of his usual intro. He doesn’t transition us to the commercial break smoothly. He just switches the feed and presses his thumb in the middle of his forehead. I knock my knee to his and his arm snaps under the table, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of my thigh like he’s afraid to let me go. Like I might float away.
“Aiden,” I try, my voice low and my hand cupped over the microphone. “Are you all right?”
“M’fine,” he mumbles, but his eyes are still scrunched shut tight. “Just a headache, I think.”
I frown. “Do you need anything?”
He mumbles something under his breath. Jackson appears on the other side of the window with his arms crossed, a concerned look on his face. I shrug at him and his frown deepens.
“Aiden,” I say again. “Can I get you something? Medicine?”
“No.” He pokes at his keyboard without looking at me and waves Jackson off. “I’m all right. Let’s just—let’s finish the show.”
“If you’re sure,” I say slowly.
“I’m sure.”
We’re supposed to go to phone calls after the break, but I try to encourage him to just play music instead. But he’s stubborn, in addition to whatever the hell else is going on, and he turns us over to the phone lines as soon as the last commercial plays.
“Welcome toHeartstrings. You have Aiden and Lu—” Aiden stumbles over my name, shooting me a quick, indecipherable look from the corner of his eye. “Lucie here.” He clears his throat. “What can we help you with tonight?”
I’m not convinced we can help anyone with anything tonight. Not with the strange mood Aiden is in. But I unwrap a chocolate mint and place it on the corner of his notepad anyway, doing the same with mine while I hope for the best. He likes to eat his chocolate after the second caller, like he’s rewarding himself for good behavior. I eat mine halfway through the first, too impatient to wait.
The caller on the other side of our headphones clears their throat. “I’m not sure—” He laughs and I recognize the sound of it. I pause with my chocolate and tilt my head to the side, trying to place the familiar sound. “Lucie? From the garage, Lucie?”
I feel Aiden’s attention on me. “Yes,” I answer slowly. I meet Aiden’s narrow-eyed stare and shrug. I have no idea either.
A gusting, pleased breathwhooshesin my ears. “I knew I recognized you from somewhere,” he says, delighted. “It’s Colin.”
“Oh.” I’ve never met aColinin my life. “Hello.”
There’s a pause. “You don’t remember me.”
I wince. “Um, no? Not really. I’m sorry.”
Colin sighs and Aiden shifts in his chair next to me. “I thought I made an impression, but that’s okay. I’m Rosie’s dad. The guy with the Chevy.”
A laugh bursts out of me. “Oh, hi! Yes! I remember you. Rosie should be ready any day now. I was going to call.”
“Well, now I’m calling you,” he says, voice light. “Did you get my flowers?”
The pen Aiden is holding snaps, black ink spilling on his notepad. I frown at him.
“Flowers?” I ask.
“Yeah. Some roses. Same red as Rosie. About a week ago. There should have been a card.”
There wasn’t. Everyone in the shop unanimously decided to give them to Harvey. He’s a bit of a sap when it comes to decorating his workstation.
