“No, he’s uhm…” Gwen schools her face, her voice tinged with disbelief. “He’s working from home?”
“From home?”
“Yes, that’s what he said. Maybe something’s going around.”
I eye Gwen, my heart pounding in my chest. “What do you mean?”
“Well, with Carl being under the weather and Kayden calling in sick, too.”
“Kayden called in sick?”
Gwen’s eyes soften, her expression filled with empathy. “Yes. Well, I mean, Vivian did. Just now.” Gwen points at her headset. “Must be some virus or something.”
“Or something,” I mumble.
“You feeling okay there, hon? You’re not looking too peachy yourself.”
“Gee, thanks, Gwen,” I offer her a half-assed smile.
Gwen winks at me. “Awww, will you get over yourself? Even looking like something the cat tried to drag in, then left for the rats, you take an old woman’s breath away.”
“You’re not old, Gwen.” I don’t disagree with her on the cat part because she’s probably right. I slept for shit, and today I’m really feeling all of my forty years and then some.
“You’re a sweetheart, but also a liar, Caleb Morgan. Why don’t you take a day off, too? We’ve got everything covered here. We can manage a day without the suits,” she chuckles.
“I’m not a suit.” I look down at myself; my usual gray office pants and white shirt the only things about me that don’t look disheveled.
“Potato-potahto,” Gwen sing-songs, then gestures at me with her hand in a shooing motion. “Get outta here, boss. I’ll give you a call in case we need you.” She lifts an eyebrow at me when I’m about to protest. “Which we won’t!”
I give in and salute her, knocking my heels together. “Yes, ma’am!”
“Don’t you ma’am me, young man.” She laughs, about to say something else, when the phone rings again. She gives me a quick wave, then greets the caller in her usual fashion, “Barnacle Cove Boatworks, Gwen speaking, how may I help you?”
I walk backward toward the exit. A weird feeling comes over me, a strange foreboding. Neither Sal nor Kayden came in today. What if Sal has managed to convince Kayden to break it off with me? What if he doesn’t want to see me? The thought alone makes my lungs struggle for air. I can’t let that happen. I love him. He ismine. Fuck, I’ve never planned a single thing in my life, but now, it feels like I have no future if Kayden isn’t in it.
I call him again, but he doesn’t pick up. My fingers fly across the screen as I type out a message.
Baby, please pick up
I just came into work, and you’re not here. Neither is your dad. I’m coming over
I get in the car and drive through town over to Kayden’s place. Twice, I get so caught up in my thoughts that I don’t realize the lights have turned green until other drivers honk at me impatiently. When I reach the apartment building, I park Marilyn in my usual spot. I can’t see the company truck Kayden uses, which unsettles me a bit. Then again, he could’ve parked it somewhere else. Or he’s at… Fuck, if he’s at Sal’s place… yeah, I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.
I press the intercom, but no one answers, and at this point, I’m close to losing my shit. I try calling Kayden again, but it goes straight to voicemail. I wait around, pressing the intercom again at the odd chance he was still asleep the first time or maybe in the shower. There’s still no answer, and just when I’m about to leave, the door to the apartment building opens, and a young woman with a baby in a stroller walks out. I hold the door open for her, and she throws me a gratefulthank you, then disappears down the street. I slip inside and take the stairs two at a time, my lungs screaming at me, but now I can’t get the image out of my head that Kayden might have slipped on the wet tiles on his way out of the shower.
I knock on the door to Kayden’s apartment, then lean my head against the surface, trying to make out something from the inside that tells me he’s there. Everything is quiet, except for the sound of my rushed breathing. I knock again, this time pounding against the door, the sound echoing off the walls.
“Kayden? Baby, please open!” I call through the door, tears pressing behind my eyelids. I don’t cry. I never fucking cry, but now I feel like sinking to the floor and just howling. It’s a physical pain unlike any other to not know where he is and if he’s okay. I pull my phone from my pocket and beckon the screen to light up with a message from him, or a call, but nothing happens. I tap the screen, then type out yet another message, my fingers shaking.
Kayden, please. Just let me know you’re okay
If you’re home, then open the door, baby
I wait for a few moments, but it’s like I’m sending my messages out into a bottomless abyss. I type again as determination rises in my chest.
Okay, I’m heading over to your parents’ now
“Caleb.” Vivian opens the door for me, her expression indecipherable as she steps aside and lets me in.