Carly's Call for Help
-- A Short Story
| Carly Corinthos dabbed at her tearful eyes with a
tissue as the warm voice on the other end of the phone asked if she needed
help. Carly knew she did, but she didn't want to admit it, not again. "What exactly are you needing me to do?" asked the familiar voice. "I, I, well," Carly stammered. She cleared her throat, hoping her strained voice hadn't betrayed that she'd been crying all morning. "Yes?" "Well," Carly began again, "um, you know what? I need you, um, I need you do to something for me." "Yes. What are you wanting? What can I do for you this time?" Carly didn't respond. She was unsure of how to tell this person, who had been nothing but kind from the start, what she needed. She felt her face flush with embarassment. How could she explain it? "Are you needing the same thing you always need?" "Uh, yes," said Carly, "the same thing." She was startled with the realization that she may not have to explain things after all. She sat up straight on the couch, clenching the tear soaked tissue in her hand. Things might work out after all, she thought. "So, you'll help me then," asked Carly. "Like you did before? It was you wasn't it?" "Yes, it was me and I'll help you. It's no problem, really." The voice was so reassuring and friendly. "You have what I need?" asked Carly, her voice filled with renewed vigor. "Yes, of course," said the woman. "You can bring it?" "Yes. Today, if you'd like." "Terrific," said Carly. "Go ahead then, I'll be here." "Great," said the woman, "we'll have one set of lead crystal bar decanters and glasses delivered to your penthouse by three this afternoon. Should I just put that on your card, M'am?" LOL |
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What if We'd Always Blended Names?
