Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron’s Guitar Chronicles.
At eleven a.m. the phone began to ring and I wondered why I was getting a wake up call when I didn’t remember asking for one. I reached for the phone to shut it up and my hand collided with another hand on the receiver. Ziggy stared at me with wide, unseeing eyes.
“I got it,” I told him, and waved him back.
The prerecorded wake up droned in my ear. I hung up on it and lay back in bed. Belle said a driver was coming for us at noon. That made it my job to make sure everyone was up. Maybe I had asked for the wake up call. Or maybe Ms. Super-Competent did.
I wished I could go back to sleep, or at least pretend I was. Anything to avoid Ziggy. Potential conversations echoed through my head. In one version I told him I was sorry I shoved him like that. In another he told me he was sorry, yeah, sorry he forgot I was such an uptight prick.
