The phone rang.
He sat on the floor, his back against another hotel bed.
The phone rang again.
His bags lay, still packed, in a heap by the door.
Miles away, in another state, someone answered.
"Hello?"
"Katie…" Wilson said, then immediately burst into tears. This was stupid and childish but he couldn't help himself, the tears came in, as did the thick horrible feeling he'd been swallowing all day.
"Oh, James." Her voice was very calm but there was sadness in there too.
"I messed up, Katie." He said. "Again."
"Where are you?"
He sniffed and wiped the tears from his face with the heel of his palm. "In a hotel."
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah." He desperately tried to control of whining pitch of his voice, but found he couldn't. "No. He won't talk to me." He sobbed again.
"James, stop crying."
He sobbed again.
"James." She said forcefully. "Stop crying."
He stopped crying. His hand moved to his face occasionally to wipe wetness from his eyes, but he didn't sob and slowly the thick feeling in his throat ebbed.
"Okay." He said quietly.
"What happened?"
"I messed up." He said.
"You said that already. What did you do?"
He rubbed the back of his neck and then craned it to stare at the ceiling. "Nothing. Not really. I mean, there was this woman."
"Oh, James."
"Would you stop saying 'oh, James'!" He said, angrier then he'd meant.
"Hey, you called me."
He sighed. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm just…scared. I'm scared."
"Tell me what happened."
"The usual. Had to make everybody like me. Had to be boy wonder. Had to…"
"James." Her voice was firm. "Stop that. Feeling sorry for yourself isn't going to make this better. Now talk to me so I can help you."
"I was out of town. I went to a bar. There was this woman there and we started talking. She'd just gotten a divorce. I bought her a couple of drinks."
"How many is a couple?"
"I don't know. Six?"
"Oh…" She seemed to bite her tongues before completing her sentence. "Did you sleep with her?"
"Oh god, Katie…"
"Did you have sex with her?"
"No." He said, very softly. He stared intently now at the nape of the carpet, picking out the paths the rooms former occupants had worn.
"Are you lying?"
"Katie."
"Okay, okay, sorry." She huffed a sigh. "I don't know what to tell you. How'd he take it?"
"I don't know. I haven't seen him."
"You haven't seen him? How did he find out?"
Wilson cringed. "He called. She answered."
"Oh, James."
He didn't say anything.
"And you deserve that too. You at least had the decency to tell me."
He didn't say anything.
"You know you have to talk to him."
"He won't!" Wilson spat. "I've called and called and he won't pick up."
"So get your ass over there and talk to him in person."
Fear numbed Wilson's stomach. "I can't."
"You can't? What do you mean you can't?"
"Katie. Stop. I can't. Don't ask me to do that. I can't do that."
"You have to do that. That's what happens now. You messed up, yeah, but if you want to fix it, you have to talk to him. You do want to fix it, don't you?"
"I don't know…" He said. "Maybe…maybe it's not worth it."
"The hell you say."
"What?"
"The hell you say. James, I've never seen you as happy as you were at Thanksgiving. The minute you walked in the door I knew something was going on. You were in love. You're still in love, aren't you?"
"Yes."
"And you didn't pick up this woman because you were lonely or bored or desperate, right?"
"No. It was a completely new fucked up stupid reason."
"So work it out. Go home and work it out."
"That's just it Katie! It's not my home. It never was my home. It's his stupid apartment. I'm afraid if I go over there…"
"What? You'll find your stuff in bonfire on the lawn?"
"That's it. There. I don't have any stuff."
She paused. "You don't have any stuff."
"Clothes. Some books. That's about it."
"James. Stop whining."
"I'm not…" He began.
"Stop. Now."
He took a breath. "I just have to wait."
"I think you should talk to him."
"No, you don't know him. He shuts down. That's how he works. When you hurt him, he shuts down. If you push him, he just shuts down harder."
"I guess you know him best."
This statement made Wilson feel just a little bit better. He didn't quite smile, but his face lost the miserable lonesome quality it had been projecting moments earlier.
"Yeah, I do."
"Are you gonna be okay?"
"Yeah. I guess so. Thank you."
"What I'm here for."
Wilson laughed to himself. "I'm an idiot aren't I?"
"Oh, yeah. Totally."
"Katie…Did you know? When we were together. Did you know?"
"That you were gay?"
"Yeah."
She sighed. "I knew…I knew that you weren't happy. I knew that…you needed something I didn't know how to give." She laughed. "Take that whatever way you want to."
"I was happy at Thanksgiving?"
"You were glowing. It was disgusting."
He nodded. "I guess I should go. Got to work in the morning." A thought struck him. "Maybe a patient of his will get cancer, and then he'll have to talk to me."
"I'll keep my fingers crossed."
"Goodnight, Katie. Thank you."
"Goodnight, James. Good luck."
Dial tone.