photo credit: flickr (creative commons)

In case you are just joining this blog, I started the first post yesterday in the restoration series. Check out the beginning here. 

I picked up the phone and said, “God, you’ve got to speak through me. I have no idea what to say.” I looked at Skeeter the dog, got the go ahead from her kisses, and dialed the number.

Don’t answer. Don’t answer. Don’t answer. I’m not ready. Don’t answer. Don’t answer. Don’t answer. 

“Hello,” said the deep voice on the other side of the phone. I immediately knew it was her dad, Don. I hadn’t heard his voice in years, but it  immediately brought back the memories of fishing with him on Sundays, and eating ice cream while I tried to avoid the psychotic bark of his tiny Chichaua Fifi.

“Is Julie there?” I asked.

“Are you here?” he asked her in the background before he came back to the line.

“She’s not here.”

I laughed and said, “Okay, will you tell her that Sundi Jo called?”

The surprise in his voice wasn’t hidden as he asked in shock, “Sundi Jo? Yes, she’s here!”

The few seconds it took her to come to the phone seemed like an eternity to me. The spinning in my head reminded me that I needed to breathe. I was exhaling just as she got on the phone and said, “hello.”

“Hey, this is Sundi Jo, how are you?” I was multitasking at this point. Trying to remember to breathe. Hold the phone to my ear. Shaking my leg 100 miles per hour. Again, remembering to breathe. Keeping a smile on my face. Always smile on the phone. I learned this from being on the radio. People can hear your smile.

“I’m good. How are you?”

“I’m doing great.” I was actually telling the truth. I was doing great. For the first time in my life I was really living. She had no idea I had been simply surviving all these years.

“You sound great,” she said. “It’s been so long.” I know in the back of her mind she was waiting for me to deliver the bad news. Why could I possibly be calling her. Who was I getting ready to tell her had died. Afterall, the last time she had heard any news regarding me was hearing the death of my father.

“It has been a long time,” I said. “I’ve just been thinking about you and would love to catch up. I’m going to be in town next weekend and would love to take you out to lunch.”

“I would love that.”

Really? I’m not sure what type of response I was waiting for. I hadn’t thought that far through. I was simply trying to have the courage to dial the phone. I wasn’t prepared for her to say yes.

We had small talk for a little bit. This is what I’m doing today. How is so and so?

My nervous meter was at full capacity and I couldn’t talk anymore.

“Well, I’m looking forward to seeing you. I’ll call you next week and we’ll catch up.”

She said in a genuine voice, “I’m looking forward to seeing you.”

And I said in a genuine voice, “Me too.” I meant it.

I hung up the phone and waited for Skeeter to pinch me. Was this real? Thirteen years of silence had just been broken. In one week I would see the woman I had once despised face to face.

To be continued…

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