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Your Phone is Ringing

"Your phone is ringing"
"I know", I said.
"Well answer it".
"Not now, we need to talk about this"
"Hello", she answers the phone.
"Is Bob there?" asks a woman.
"Yes he is, can I say whose calling?"
"It's Sheila," she said, as she hands me the phone.

I took the phone and ended the call.
"I'm not talking to anyone but you right now. Nothing of what you have said is true. I'm not seeing any other women. I'm not even interested in anyone but you."
"Then who is Sheila?" she asks. "How do you explain all these calls from other women? I'm not a fool, and I'm not going to put up with this. I'm out of here".
"Wait", I said, "don't leave; you haven't even given me a chance to explain what's going on. You have it all wrong".
"How wrong can I have it when I just answered a call from Sheila?"

"It's really very simple" I said, "My ex girlfriend got upset about us breaking up and took it badly. She decided to get revenge by writing my phone number on the wall of the ladies room in Macy's. I don't know what she wrote along with the number, but I've been getting a lot of calls. I never know who they are and I've gotten into the habit of just closing my phone like I just did with Sheila. Ok, now you know so you have no reason to leave."

"I don't believe you," she said. That's a very slick explanation. I don't know what she could write that would explain all of the calls you've been getting. Good Bye."
Michelle walked quickly out of the door and closed it behind her. I started immediately toward the door but stopped. I didn't have any proof that I was not seeing anyone else. I've had plenty of opportunities. Damn, damn, damn. I can't believe this has happened. I really love that woman.

2 days later I was coming out of Macy's with a new shirt and I ran into Michelle walking in. She had a guy with her who looked like The Rocks trainer. We came face to face and stopped.
"This is Derek" she said, pointing to the chiseled giant next to her. He reached out his hand, and like Dumber, as in Dumb and Dumber, I took it. He began to squeeze my hand like it was a bag of Fritos. I quickly responded by squeezing back as hard as I could just to hold out as long as possible. Just as the air was about to burst out of the Fritos bag Michelle came to my rescue.

"Would you two Neanderthals quick strutting like and couple of roosters."
Derek released my hand and I did a commendable job of acting like it didn't hurt.
"Oh we were just bonding, we're we Dirk?" I said
"The name is Derek," he snorted as he took a step toward me.
Michelle quickly stepped between us and put a hand on each chest. Derek was steaming.
"Was that smoke coming out of his nose?" I asked. "Shit, I think he's singed all the hairs in his nose." I say.

Derek tries to lung at me but Michelle stands her ground and I give a little ground.
"I have to go", I say, "Dirk, what is your tailors name. I'd love to know who poured those clothes on you", and as I turn and walk away Derek explains how he is going to make a pretzel out of me. Michelle barely manages to keep him in control until I'm gone.

As I walk out of the store I think back to the last glance Michelle gave me. I'm sure I saw light shinning in the corner of her eye.   Hmmm, maybe there's hope.

The following day was Monday. I had a very hard time focusing on my work and did an award-winning job of postponing and shirking as much as possible.
When I got home from work I skipped my usual workout and went straight to the wine cellar. I pulled out a bottle of Chateau Montelena and decanted it.   I then took a wine glass from the cupboard and poured out a very small amount of wine. As I was swirling the wine I heard a knock at the door.


I walked over and opened it, and there stood Michelle.
"I went to the ladies room at Macy's," she said. "I saw your phone number on the wall.
I believe you now".
She stepped through the door and into my arms. I kicked the door shut and held her tight.
"I'm sorry," she said, looking me in the face. "I should have believed you." And with that she kissed me several times, each kiss deeper than the last.


We pressed our bodies together like we were trying to become one being, and the passion was hot enough to melt wax. I was sure she could feel the bulge in my pants now.

"What did my ex write on the wall with my phone number?" I asked.
"I'm not telling, your heads are big enough already." she responded. "But it's true."
I laughed at the joke, but wondered what she could possibly have seen on that stall.

I pulled out another glass and poured her some wine. We sat next to each other on the sofa; talking, kissing, cuddling, caressing, and kissing some more. Then we made dinner together, drinking wine and talking and kissing.

We had baked fish for dinner, and I opened a bottle of Chardonnay. The food was good, the wine was good, and the company was unsurpassable.

We left the dishes and went to the bedroom, taking the wine with us. We undressed each other and we made love like we had not been together for months.
We finally fell asleep, leaving an unfinished bottle of wine on the bed stand, and many stains on the sheets.

The next day at lunch I went to Macy's and hung out outside of the ladies room. I watched who went in and who went out to gage when I thought it would be empty. Finally I had to go in when I knew there was a woman in there. I found 2 women, but both were standing at a sink. They stared at me as I went from stall to stall, looking at the walls.
When I got to the last stall I saw my name, written not on the stall, but on the wall.
Below my phone number was the words "His heart is true".

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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