Voicemail

Glenda sat on the beach, sipping a mojito. In the past six days, she had probably blown all of her savings from the past nine months, but at least she was less stressed. Unfortunately for Glenda, to interrupt her relaxation, her phone had been ringing incessantly for the past hour.

"Are you going to answer that?" the waiter asked as be brought her another mojito. Glenda reached for the mojito, lifted her sunglasses off of her face, and shot him a smug smile. "I think not," she said. She knew that she was coming off as a pretentious bitch, but she hadn't been able to live so gloriously for at least a year, and she missed her former life. Glenda reached for the phone and flipped it open. 23 missed calls, read the screen. Ugh, thought Glenda. I told everyone I'd be gone for at least 10 days, why are they calling me? She was about to turn it off to avoid it all-together when it rang again. This time, it was a number she didn't recognize. Ignore. And with that, Glenda turned the phone off and dozed off into a lazy slumber.

That night, as she climbed into bed, she turned her phone back on. Whoever had been trying to call her must have given up, because only 24 missed calls appeared on her screen. Oddly enough, however, she had only one voicemail, and it was from the number she didn't recognize. Hmm, thought Glenda. I wonder who this is...


"Hi, Glenda. Or, well, I guess I should say Mom. My name's Caitlyn and –" The phone dropped from Glenda's hand. She stared at it, in shock. Well, she thought, I guess the decision has been made for me.