Phone Call

I learned their phone number by heart in the months after we first met. Partly, it was because I got their answering machine about as often as I caught them at home, and her voice repeated the phone number as she invited you to leave a message. Tonight, years later, I looked it up in my address book, just in case. Half way through dialing, I no longer needed the reference.

When he picked up the phone after the third ring, I instantly said, "Hi P! It's Erica." A wave of panic washed over me: Does he recognize my voice? Will I need to clarify by giving my last name? "Erica from America" is not going to work--they are IN America.

"Erica! Erica!" came his reply. A smile the color of the sunshine in the Santa Cruz sky washed over my face as we caught up on the latest writing projects, travel plans, and good health to be grateful for.

Hearing both of their voices over the course of the hour conversation was like hearing my own again, and hearing theirs for the first time once more. Being apart for so long and living abroad, the tones and rhythms and shapes were new, and familiar. So familiar I can hardly name the qualities of their voices, so resonate are they in my body. Now, I am sitting back and basking in the sunshine of the smile.