My phone ringing Monday morning woke me.
I reached out blindly, knocked it off the nightstand, mumbled, “Damn, shit, fuck,” as I pushed to hang off the edge of the bed and grab it.
I remained hanging over the edge of the bed as I looked at the screen telling me it was just after six and the number calling was local but not programmed in.
Damn these mountain folk. With all that quiet and nature and peace, why did they get up so fucking early?
I’d programmed in Max’s number. Jim-Billy’s. Krystal’s.
This one…whoever it was, I didn’t know.
I took the call and put the phone to my ear.
“’Lo,” I muttered.
“Jus. Deke,” his deep voice reverberated in my ear.
Sleepily, and agreeably, I felt that reverberation in my *.
I was enjoying that as Deke’s alert, attractive morning voice kept coming at me.
“Max got your text about the glaze you want. He’s got shit on today…”
Deke continued speaking about picking up materials, the fact I needed to select a color for the paint for the utility room, how Max couldn’t get the supplies to the house until Tuesday afternoon, and other stuff about Deke having more than enough to do in the meantime but my utility room was going to have to be delayed. This information coming at me included the option of Deke going that morning to pick up the stuff, which would mean he’d be late getting to my place.
There was also something about Bubba coming to help him on Wednesday when he was going to blow insulation into the rafters so my heat didn’t escape out the roof, something he stated was priority.
It was a lot of words, especially from Deke. And I liked listening to them, especially the way his voice sounded and the fact it was sounding over the phone in the morning after he’d called me.
But unfortunately he stopped talking.
Though I’d find he didn’t stop talking.
I’d just let his voice lull me back to semi-sleep, hanging over the side of the bed.
“Yo! Jus! You there?” I heard him bark.
My body jerked, I blinked and put a hand to the floor to push myself up into the bed.
“Yeah, I’m here. I’m listening.”
Nothing from Deke and I thought I’d lost him right before I heard him mutter, “Jesus, the gypsy princess fell asleep fuckin’ talkin’ to me.”
“I only fell semi—asleep,” I corrected. “I’m fully awake now,” I shared (partial lie, I was only mostly awake).
Another mutter of, “Jesus.” Then, “I’ll let you get your beauty rest and go pick up the shit.”
“No,” I said, this part groggy, part desperate. “I like progress. You’re so fast and so good, four hours of lost progress could mean anything. You could have the kitchen done in four hours.” That was an exaggeration, but whatever. Slightly groggy thoughts of a kitchen were dancing merrily in my head as I finished, “So no way I wanna lose four hours.”
“Be at your place at eleven, eleven thirty and you’ll get progress,” Deke replied, obliterating my merry kitchen thoughts.
“How about you be at my place at the normal hour, tell me where to go to get the shit and then I’ll go pick it up so Max doesn’t have to waste his time to see to that errand.”
“So she did hear me,” Deke replied, though he did it like he wasn’t actually talking to me.
“Like I said, dude, semi-asleep.”
“Whatever.”
I lounged on my side on my bed but I did it feeling the amusement laced in his one word not only in my *, but also several elsewheres and those elsewheres were not (all) erogenous zones.
“Deal?” I asked, doing my best to pay no attention to those elsewheres.
“Deal,” he replied then, not surprising with Deke, he offered no words of farewell.
He just hung up.
Me being me and way too into Deke, I grinned at my phone thinking that was hot.
*
I stood outside my truck on the side of the road, the wind picking up, so much of it that it was blowing even my heavy hair in my face as I put the phone to my ear.
“Yo,” Deke answered.
“Houston, we have a problem,” I shared.
“You got lost,” he guessed.
“I can read directions, Deke, even in your handwriting, which, by the way, is a little scary,” I told him.
Deke ignored my assessment of his handwriting.
“Then what’s the problem?” he asked.
“I have a flat. I also don’t have a spare. And I further don’t have AAA. Though I do have a bunch of stuff in my truck and some of it’s back in the bed.” I looked to the heavens. “Last, I’m no meteorologist but I think in about five point two seconds, it’s gonna start raining.”
“Where are you?”
“You know that road off the main road into town that you turn off to before you turn off on the road that you then turn off on to finally turn onto Ponderosa?” I asked stupidly, not having memorized the road names (some of them being county road numbers) that led to my house.
Deke did not confirm he knew that road.