The Way We Feel

Chapter 22

I grabbed a water bottle just as my phone sounded behind me, and I quickly tried to negotiate the water bottle and my crutches before deciding to just leave the water on the counter and hurry back to the couch where my phone was sitting on a cushion.

I was pretty certain it would be Mads to ask me if we needed any more of this, or if I wanted any more of that, so I was surprised when it wasn't, but even more surprised to see who it actually was.

"Hey," I said, that surprise in my voice evident.

"Hi," Emily said, sounding just as surprised—like she wasn't the one to call me.

"How are you?" we both asked at the same time, which had each of us chuckling.

"How's the ankle holding up?" she asked then, forgoing anymore awkwardness.

Not that talking to Emily was awkward. It had just been a while since she'd called me. Typically, we found out about each other's lives through Mads.

I glanced down at said ankle and cursed it mentally once more. "Er... s'alright," I said, negotiating my crutches so that I could sit on the couch again. "It's only driving me slightly crazy."

"It doesn't still hurt, does it?" she asked, sounding only a little amused and a lot more like a doctor.

"Not so much, no," I said once I was settled and hoisting it back up onto a pillow where I could continue to stare at it with disdain. "Only when I put a good bit of my weight on it, but I'm hoping that goes away over the next couple days."

"Sounds like it's getting better, so I'm sure it will. Just keep resting it."

"Yeah." I blew out another breath, glancing around at the empty house from my spot on the couch—the same spot I'd been sat in for the last four days. "That's the plan."

"Good."

"So, what's up with you? How's Mark?"

"He's good, we're good, uh... both busy, obviously, but good."

I nodded even though she couldn't see me, then glanced down at my shorts, toyed with a loose thread. "That's good."

"Yeah," she said, and I could sense her weighing her next words even through the phone. But then they blew out on a gust of air. "But listen, the reason I called is, um... what's going on?"

I pressed my lips together, felt my eyebrows shoot up as I considered that question. "What do you mean?"

"With Maddie. What's going on with Maddie?"

A latent sense of alarm seemed to lift its head in response to her question.

But still... "I'm gonna need you to clarify."

Emily sighed then like she was frustrated with me, but I didn't care. "She's not answering my calls."

"Well, she's at the store with the baby, she's probably just—"

"No, she hasn't answered my calls in days."

She let that hang there. I let that hang there. And that sense of alarm was well and truly awake now.

Mads and Emily spoke at least every couple days. And when they weren't talking on the phone or FaceTiming, they were texting. It was a given. When I came into a room or walked into the house to find Mads on the phone, I knew it was either Emily or her mother. I didn't even have to ask.

"Have you tried texting her?"

"I'm only getting very brief responses. Like she's doing me the favor of letting me know she's alive."