Lincoln Stokes
___
For whatever reason, a smile forms on my lips as I read the message from Lincoln. When I’m done, my eyes drift to his profile bubble and I see the green dot. My heart rate quickens, remembering the conversation with the last guy, and I hesitate.
I decided to do this for a reason,I remind myself, swallowing thickly.
No one should have to be alone on Christmas, Genesis’ voice echoes through my mind.
Subject: How many messages have you received?
A decent amount. Seems there are a lot of San Diegans who need support around the holidays. Christmas Eve sounds great. I don’t have anything planned as of now.
-Holly
___
Clenching my jaw, I reread the message and feel a little remorseful at the undertone I gave it. It was a bit short…cold, almost.
“Zee?” the cafe’s barista calls from behind the counter as she places my tea in the pickup area.
Picking it up, I tell her thank you even though her back is already to me as she makes another beverage. The app’s notification signals, pulling my attention back to the device in my hand.
Eagerly, I open it and read.
Message received
Subject: How many messages have you received?
Do you mind a bit of travel? My parents live in Julian.
Lincoln Stokes
___
Stowing my phone in my purse, I leave Lincoln’s message unanswered and focus on my surroundings as I walk to my car. Holding my longest key between my knuckles, I scan the parking lot and wait until I’m standing next to my beat-up Subaru Forester to unlock it. Familiarity comforts me as I sink into thedriver's seat and lock the doors, breathing in the vanilla-suede scent of my air freshener.
It takes fifteen minutes and two freeways to get home, and another five before I’m inside, stripping away my clothes as the water for the shower warms.
Bobby pin after bobby pin, the tightness on my scalp begins to dissipate as I remove the pins and ties from my hair. Shoving my fingers into the blonde locks, I rub at my scalp, loosening it further. It feels like heaven—almost as good as it feels to take off your bra at the end of a long shift.
The water is scalding as I enter the small shower-tub combo and pull the curtain closed. Steam rises around me while I take my time washing the day away.
My thoughts drift to the messages I’ve received, the amount of responses surprising me all over again.
When I emerge from the shower, Potato is sitting on the sink waiting for me. Instinctually, I reach to pet him, and he immediately jumps from the counter and races away as water droplets fall from my skin. I think he’s still mad about his near-drowning experience yesterday. You know, the one where he didn’t actually fall into the water but acted like he had?
As I dress, the soft, buttery fabric of my favorite Christmas jammies curls around my skin like a warm hug. They’re cozy, as are my slippers as I push my feet into them and head to the couch. My tea is lukewarm by the time I pick it up again and sip it, but it’s almost gone, so I keep it in my grasp while searching for a feel-good movie on TV.
Three more notifications from the SparksFly app come through before I settle onElf, an oldie but goodie, and force myself to watch a few minutes of the movie before I read through the messages.
More of the same,I think as I float over the words these new men have sent me.
Office party.
Family dinner.
…a funeral?
