If Only She Really Was. . .

Becca’s phone began its five-tone chime. It was dark. Becca knew something was wrong. She reached her hand out from under the covers and felt around the nightstand. Grasping it with three fingers she sucked the phone into her nest.

She flicked it open with her teeth. The face lit up, flooding the covers, and her eyes with abrasive light.

MISTY

The phone number flashed. She’d missed it. The face dimmed, and ‘missed call’ showed for a moment. The digital clock returned.

2AM.

Becca sighed. At least her baby sister had gotten the time right. She needed to be at work in an hour.

Becca stretched and her feet stuck out the end of the covers. She pulled them back in from the cold. Throwing the covers back, she braced herself for the chill. The phone fell onto the floor with a soft thump.

It’s not supposed to be this cold here, she grimaced. Slipping her feet into the old, fuzzy slippers, she grabbed the phone from where it had fallen. She placed it on the nightstand again.

Misty was always calling with some new, terrible fate. “I’m pregnant.” “I lost it.” “I need money.” “I got married.”

Becca sighed again and wondered what it would be this time. It was the end of the month. She was out of money.

I bet Misty is, too, she thought as she made her way to the bathroom.

Her feet hit the tile and she cringed. She looked at the light switch and dreaded the thought. She flicked it anyway. Nothing.

Dammit. Late on bills. Wish I hadn’t sent her money last month.

Becca walked to the sink and turned on the water. It was cold, but still flowing. The moon filtered through the window as she began to brush her teeth.

What could she want this time? She knows I can’t send money at the end of the month. Maybe she’s pregnant again. Not that she’ll ever carry to term.

She spit out the paste and rinsed. The water was too cold to let her think.

I should call. Becca walked back to the phone. She stared at it for a moment and bit her thumbnail.

Do I really need the drama before work? But what if something happened to Mom or Dad or Grandma?

She pressed the button and the phone lit up. Two more times and Misty’s number showed on the screen.

Becca closed her eyes, squinting. She opened an eye and pushed the button. It rang.

Three rings. Becca held her breath. Maybe she won’t answer.

Four. I could leave a message.

Five. Yes!

“What?”

Damn. “Hey, Misty. I got your message. What’s up?”

“Not much. Just calling to see how you were.”

Liar. You never call to see how I am. You call to extract information to tell Mom and Dad. You call for money. You call to tell me how awful your life is. You call to –

“I’m fine. How about you?”

“Can’t complain. I have a new boyfriend.”

“That’s great.” Not really. I wonder if this one will hit her like the last one.

“Yeah. He’s way more mature than Billy was. He’s intellectual, too. we talk about all kinds of things.”

“Good.”

“And he takes me places. We went to the opera last week.”

“Wait, Hometown doesn’t have an opera house.”

“Oh yeah, I moved.”

“When did you move?”

“Ages ago.”

“Oh. So where are you now?”

“Dallas.”

Of course. Say it like I should know or something.

“So you’re living with him?”

“Yeah. Something wrong with that, Big Sister?”

Becca cringed. Misty called her that as a reference to Big Brother, a secret accusation between the two of them.

“Just wondering.”

Misty was silent on the line.

“Hey, how come you’re up so late?”

“Oh, I –

An awkward silence crawled over the phone-line.

“Misty, is everything all right?”

“Yeah.”

“Really? It sounds like something’s wrong.”

“No, everything’s okay.” She paused. “Except. . .”

“Except what?”

“Well. . . I’m dead.”

“You’re what?” Becca’s throat clenched.

“I’m dead.” It sounded more like a question than an answer.

“What do you mean you’re dead?”

“Well. . . You see. . . Arnold is a Vampire.”

“Who’s Arnold?”

“My boyfriend. I already told you I had a new boyfriend.”

Becca sighed and pressed her fingers to her forehead. This is just like her. It wasn’t enough to find one who would beat her. Oh no. she had to go above and beyond that. She finds one that can go ahead and kill her!

“Alright. So you’re in Dallas, Arnold is your boyfriend and you’re dead.”

“Yeah.”

“You sound mad.”

“I’m not mad.”

“You sound it.”

“I’m not.”

“I think you are.”

“Well, I’m not!”

“See, you’re shouting. You’re mad!”

“I’m not mad!”

“Dammit! I call to tell you how my life is going and you get mad!”

“I’m not mad!”

“You’re yelling!”

“So are you!”

“Yeah, but I’m not mad!”

Becca bit her tongue. The line was silent.

“You still there?”

“Yeah.”

“So how’s you’re life going?”

“Fine. I got that promotion I wanted. I work twelve hours now.”

“Good. Bet you make a lot of money.”

“Not really.”

“I won’t ever have to ask you for any again.”

“Yeah. ‘Cuz you’re dead.”

“Why do you sound all sarcastic? I just call to tell you about my life.”

You don’t have a life you’re dead. “You don’t have a life you’re dead.” Shit!

“Well, if that’s how you’re going to be I’ll just go. Talk to you later. Maybe.”

The phone went dead.

Becca snapped it shut.

I’m pregnant. I’m not. I’m married. I’m divorced. I’m dead.

She rolled her eyes. If only she really was. If only she really was. . .