This vignette was included in Vine Leaves Literary Journal Issue #2
This photo seemed perfect for sharing it again.
Left Behind
Theresa Milstein
Jen’s
fingers trembled as she dialed the phone. If her friends could see her now, they’d call her pathetic. But she had to speak to him.
“Hello. This is Michael. Please leave your name and number at the sound of the beep and I’ll
return your call as soon as possible.”
Jen
hesitated before speaking. Too
long. The receiver beeped and she
jumped in surprise. She
disconnected the call. Hit speed
dial.
“Hello. This is Michael. Please leave your name and number at the sound of the beep and I’ll
return your call as soon as possible.”
She
spoke quickly so the machine wouldn’t cut her off. “Hello,
Michael? This is Jen. I just wanted to hear the sound of your
voice again. I miss you.” She inhaled. “Can you hear me?
Where are you?”
A
beep signaled the call had disconnected. Although her heart rumbled like an engine, she couldn’t stop
now. Had to say it. He had to hear it.
“Hello. This is Michael. Please leave your name and number at the sound of the beep and I’ll
return your call as soon as possible.”
“Michael, it’s me
again—Jen. I know I shouldn’t keep
calling. But what choice do I
have? What you were thinking when
you drove away? Do you even know? Did you give me a second thought as you
flew out of my driveway? Your mother used to say…”
The beep signaled.
She’d taken too long this time. Jen growled in frustration, stabbed the redial
button.
“Hello. This is Michael. Please leave your name and number at the sound of the beep and I’ll
return your call as soon as possible.”
His voice taunted
her, mocking her sorry state. This time, she didn’t bother introducing herself. “This is all your fault. Did you think I’d lose it like
this? We had plans, Michael. Do you remember them? You’re so selfish. How could you do this to me?”
Jen sobbed into
incoherence before the machine cut her off. It took her a few minutes to calm down enough to dial. She couldn’t leave things like this.
“Hello. This is Michael. Please leave your name and number at the sound of the beep and I’ll
return your call as soon as possible.”
Now his voice
sounded like velvet—all animosity gone. Jen’s words cracked with sorrow and defeat. “Remember that day you made the picnic spread and surprised
me with the ring in my fruit salad, and it was all sticky when you tried to put
it on my finger? I can still hear you
say, ‘This ring is a promise of forever.’ I trusted you’d keep your promise. I never needed a man to validate me. But after we fell in love, you became my present and my
future. I don’t know who I am
without you.”
This time, Jen cut
the call. She closed her eyes, inhaled
and exhaled. And redialed one last
time.
“Hello. This is Michael. Please leave your name and number at the sound of the beep and I’ll
return your call as soon as possible.”
“Michael, I placed flowers on your grave
today.”
