Whenever You Call Read Online Free PDF

into the internet Wiccan channel, which usually broadcast the kind of hypnotic, rhythmic music that sounded like the earth’s heartbeat, or something equally bizarre. I recognized that I rather looked down on the Wiccan movement, not to mention its music, but hey, the beat worked for meditating.
    Since I was at the computer, I clicked on the Mail icon, expecting no answer from Mr. Sky Rabbitfish. Yet there was. I swallowed with excitement and tried to remind myself that I was forty-eight years old, far too mature for these kinds of love palpitations.
    Playing hard to get, are we?
    I jumped out of the chair and paced up and down, aware of the way my breasts bounced around. This guy made me very conscious of my body’s many parts, especially since I was naked. A quick half-dozen retorts popped into my mind and I almost typed one of them right away, but in a show of self-control, or maybe fear, I walked back into the bathroom, calmly switched off the overhead light, and climbed into the tub. Because it was such an old bathtub, and located below ground level, it reminded me of a sarcophagus. In a good way, of course.
    I sank beneath the hot water, all the way up to my neck, which meant I floated slightly. At five-five, I was almost too short for my toes to touch the far end of the tub and there was always a moment when I felt like I was in my own private swimming pool, about to sink beneath the surface of the water. I lay still, thinking.
    Basically, I had to conclude that something quite weird was going on. I didn’t actually know that this man was The Sky, with whom I’d briefly corresponded through Match.com. Just because he’d answered my post on the Missed Connection board, and commented that he’d seen my former husband sit down with me, also didn’t mean anything. Maybe I’d been wrong when I was so sure that the man at Au Bon Pain was The Sky. Or maybe I was right, but the man answering my MC post wasn’t the same man. Not only was this weird, it was complicated. Some other guy could have seen me at exactly the moment when Isaac sat down.
    I kicked my legs and paddled my arms, keeping afloat. Finally, the confusion became too much for me. I sat up in the tub and reached for the soap. After a thorough scrubbing, I scooched down in the water again and used the washcloth to swish off all the soapy residue. I heard the music from the Wiccan station, a plaintive weeping sound like a wild cat stuck in a tree. Finally, I turned sideways in the tub, sitting up with my legs folded beneath me and my hands together in my watery lap. I closed my eyes.
    Playing hard to get, are we? Playinghard toget arewe, playinghardtogetarewe, playinghardtogetarewe, playinghardtogetarewe?
    So much for emptying my mind.
    My eyes flew open and I stared at the candle flickering across the room, where it balanced on the sink. Sometimes, when I had trouble getting into a meditative state, a candle’s flame could help me go into a trance. I watched the flame without blinking, until my eyes watered. The wailing wild cat music kept screeching, coming perilously close to making me screech along with it. Resolute, I closed my eyes again.
    You, sir, are the one playing hard to get.
    I don’t play games.
    Are you The Sky from Match.com?
    I’ve been married three times; what’s your grand total?
    I quit being a writer. I am, therefore, no longer too too.
    For some reason, I appear to have fallen in love with you.
    For some reason, I appear to have lost all reason.
    For some reason, I appear to be alone in my bathtub.
    I gave up on meditating. I rose to take the rather daunting step up and over the bathtub’s rim, grabbing a towel as I made the maneuver. I dried off quickly and wrapped my white terry-cloth robe around me. I practically ran into the next room to turn off the damn Wiccan music. Then, naturally, I clicked on the e-mail from Rabbitfish again.
    There were many things I wanted to write him, but I knew I was scared of what was happening,