New York City
April 18
The next morning, Calliope sat in her cubicle at The Harlem Sentry gossiping on the phone with Twitch like they were high schoolers in the cafeteria.
“Nine?”
“Nine. Plus he ordered a side of bacon and three over-easy eggs. By the sixth pancake, the owner was sitting in the booth with us with his jaw on the table. He paid for our lunch and jokingly told Tox to never come back.”
“What did Tox say?”
“He asked him what kinds of pies they had today. I’m telling you Twitch, I’ve never had a you-had-to-see-it-to-believe-it moment like that in my life.” Through tears of laughter, she absently added, “Did they not feed him enough as a kid?” Then remembering Tox’s story of his childhood, she instantly regretted her words.
Sensing Calliope’s perceived misstep, Twitch was quick to reassure her. “He ate just fine as a kid. He told me once, Barb, that’s his foster mother, converted their mudroom into a pantry. I mean think about it. He’s actually slimmed down over the past year. Imagine feeding that guy as a teenager. It’d be like living with a T-rex.”
That sent the women into another chorus of hushed giggles, prompting Calliope’s cubicle neighbor and friend, Terrence, to pop his head over the divider.
“Do. You. Mind?” he huffed. “Some of us are trying to eavesdrop. Speak up or hang up.”
After confirming their plans for the following evening, Calliope ended the call and directed her attention to Terrence.
“What’s all this pssst pssst pssst? Did someone meet a boy? Did you pass him a note in study hall? Are we expecting a promposal?”
“Oh my God, stop. I didn’t meet a boy,” Calliope laughed. “I already knew him.” She rested her chin on her palm. “And he’s a man. Definitely a man.”
Terrence disappeared and reappeared in her cube, sat in her guest chair, and set his elbows on her desk.
“What’s the dope Cally-ope?” Terrence took great pleasure in mispronouncing her name knowing how much it irritated her. Of course, when he wanted something, she was once again Cal-i-oh-pee.
“Okay, something’s up. You’re pink as a poppy and your voice dropped an octave. The last guy you dated, you forgot his name.”
“Oh yeah. He was a nice guy.”
“Josh! His name was Josh.”
“Josh. Right.” She knocked her forehead with her palm.
“He played for the Mets!”
“Meh,” she shrugged.
“This new one must be Captain America or The Hulk.”
“He’s kind of both.”
Terrence gave her a probing look then sat back in his chair. He steepled his fingers, pressing both index fingers to his lips. “It’s the Colossus.”
“Hmmm?”
“Coy doesn’t suit you, dear.”
“Fine. Yes, it’s Tox.”
“Who?” Terrence put a hand to his ear as if he hadn’t heard.
Calliope put her face in her hands as she recalled their drunken conversation on the ferry back to Cape Cod after Emily’s Nantucket wedding. “Helios, the mighty sun god, The Colossus of Rhodes.”
“I really hope you shout that out when you’re in bed with him. You’d do wonders for the man’s ego.”