“Michael Calante, Michael Calante, Michael Calante,” I heard being announced in unison with a cascade of chimes. What is happening? Where is this coming from? Then it hit me – my phone! Mikey was calling me! Yes, my Mikey! Those chimes are the special ringtone Lorena set for him. I rarely hear them, but when I do my entire body lights up.

Michael Calante – aka Ceski -aka Mikey – aka the man I love, was calling me on a Sunday night. This is not par for the course, okay? The Sunday part. The call instead of a text part. And guess what? Yep, I’m talking to you wise guy. Mind your own beeswax. Have you walked in my shoes? I think not. So shut your pie hole. I’m allowed to be over joyed, and I am. I am over the moon.

I was on my couch. Shorts, tank top, my dark hair yanked back in an old velvet scrunchie. My feet on the ottoman. Eczema flaring, bottoms dirty and spackled with streaks of tar and sand from my beach walk.

The room was dim. The air warm. The smell of Windex lingered in the air from my earlier cleaning spree. On the carpet I spotted one piece of my dog Dixie’s kibble. Her strange habit – placing one piece of kibble in various spots around the house.

My phone kept ringing and my heart pounded. I spotted my phone on the couch and grabbed it. I answered.

“Hello, Mike Calante.”

I wondered. Why is he calling? What could he want? Is this a good call? A bad call? I ofter wonder. I wonder a lot. I did as a kid too and not the wide-eyed magical fairy tale kind of wonder. No, my wonder is the kind that whirls stories and lies in my head. The kind that keeps me up at night spinning worst case scenarios that leave me exhausted and frozen. Stories that never come true.

“Hi there” Mike said in that tone that I love. The tone that always settles my insides. We chatted about his trip to Lake Tahoe, his daughters, the drive, getting home. Then came the first part of his colossal question…

“Hey, I have a favor to ask you.”

My mind started racing. Did he want to get together this week? No, maybe he needs a reference for an insurance agent, a dog sitter, a house-keeper or worse…maybe he knows I peek at his daughters Instagram and he’s going to ask me to stop. Maybe I was in trouble. I often feel like I’m in trouble.

Then came the question. The question I never imagined he’d ask me. The question that surprised me. The question we should all ask when we’re past 45. The question that showed his trust in me, his vulnerability. The question that made me giddy with delight.

Mike asked the question. “Would you be able to pick me up from the hospital on Thursday, I’m having a colonoscopy.”

Stay tuned…

Beep Beep