36,200 ~ 37,000

Sam was about forty miles outside of Cedar Rapids, Iowa when she missed the call. Her phone lay in its usual spot in the console near the gear shift, but it was nattached from the MP3 player. Sam had grown tired of her music stored and switched to repeatedly hitting the ‘seek’ button on her car stereo in search of more interesting listening options. She’d listened to part of a Chicago Cubs game and managed to catch the ninth inning of an Iowa Cubs victory over the Round Rock Express, the Texas Rangers’ Triple A affiliate based north of Austin. She skimmed past ‘Delilah’ several times; she couldn’t stand her romantic bullshit drivel. Sam was happy and dismayed to realize that Central Iowa had more country stations than Central Texas. At the time the call came in, 96.5 KISS Country was playing Sam’s favorite Brantley Gilbert song and the volume was cranked up to 28. She seldom exceeded level 25 but it was late, she was tired, and it was a good song. 
 

For awhile, Sam had set the phone in her lap hoping she’d feel the vibration if it rang. Time had passed and when it got to be 9:00pm, Sam set the phone back in the console and focused on the road. She didn’t hold out much hope that she’d hear from Dr. Miller until morning, if she even heard from her at all.

Sam saw a light out of the corner of her eye. The screen on her phone flashed a message and then went dark again. It said ‘Missed Call and Voice Mail’ and listed the 507 number Sam knew belonged to Jordana.

“Fuck, Kate! Fuck. I missed it. I missed her call!”

Sam swiped across the face of the phone and clicked on the green ‘Phone’ icon. She quickly selected ‘Voicemail’ from the choices given. Her hands shook as she pressed play and held the phone up to her ear.

“Sam, Jordan Miller. I’m sorry to call so late, but I just got out of class and didn’t want to not get back to you. I’m headed home now but I have office hours tomorrow morning eight to 9:30am and again after 1:00. If I don’t answer, leave another voice mail and I’ll call you back. Have a great night!”

Jordan. So, she went by ‘Jordan’ rather than J.J. or Jordana, thought Sam. She played the voice mail again and listened intently for what she didn’t know. The voice was pleasant and upbeat. Sam couldn’t detect a regional accent so apparently her Kentucky childhood hadn’t impacted her speech in adulthood. Of course she didn’t have the long nasally vowels that were so common in Minnesotans. Her sister, even though she was raised in Southern California, had the tell-tale accent, just like Sam’s voice could go ‘country’ when she was excited or tired or just wanted to fit in. Sam wondered where Ruth and Jordan had gone after they left Kentucky.

Sam checked the missed call log to see when the call had come in. Ten minutes had passed since Jordan had left the voice mail. Assuredly, she’d have left for home immediately especially if she had to be back so early in the morning. She would have to call her back in the morning. Or would she? Jordan said that she would be in her office after 1:00pm. Sam could be in Northfield well before that. Instead of calling her back, Sam could show up at her office. Yes, that’s what she would do. Just showing up had been pretty effective this entire journey. Why stop now?

 

~

 

“I think I found her. I miss u.” The text hung on the screen unsent. Too much? Too little? Too late? Or should she just call? Malin had hung up on her the last time they talked. Or had she hung up on Malin? Sam couldn’t remember. When had that been? Monday? Tuesday? What was today? Wednesday? The week seemed long and short all at the same time. When had she seen Holly? Tuesday? Yesterday. It was yesterday. She and Malin had fought about Holly Tuesday afternoon.

The facts were clear, though - Sam thought she had found Ruth and she missed Malin. Her text spoke the truth. She rarely lied; Sam preferred sins of omission to outright untruths. Sam knew this about herself. She’d rather not speak, not call, not text if it meant she might have to lie or at least tell a not-so-exact version of the truth. Now, though, Sam hesitated not because she thought she might have to lie. She hesitated because she might have to tell the truth.