So, my neighbor, Lynn, who was also my best friend, was murdered by her ex-boyfriend on the sidewalk in front of her house. I guess maybe because she was my best friend, even after a year had passed, I couldn’t make myself delete her number from the contacts list on my phone. Every so often, when I deleted people I no longer wanted to hear from, or no longer needed to call, or couldn’t remember who they were, I would think about deleting it, but I could never go through with it. I don’t know, the idea of “deleting” her just seemed like too much.
So one day I scrolled past her name looking for somebody else’s number and wondered what would happen if I called her. The phone rang twice, and she answered. I thought I was going to faint from the adrenaline shot that exploded in my head. I said, “Lynnie, is that you?” She said, “Hello?” and I said, “Lynnie, can you hear me?” She said, “Hello,” again and I said, “Hey, Lynnie, it’s me.” Then she hung up. I thought about calling our other friends and telling them, but I realized how crazy I would sound, and how much I might upset everybody, so I didn’t.
The next day I called the number again and she answered again, and once again she couldn’t hear me. I called her eight or ten times over the next few days before she finally stopped answering the phone. I kept calling–I’m not proud of it, but there you go–but after that the calls went straight to voice mail. I would’ve left a message, but the box was full. I finally decided, OK just one more time, and this time she answered. She said, “I don’t know who you are, but please stop. You’re scaring me.”
I felt like the biggest jerk in the world. I mean, in her last minute alive she was afraid. Of a man. And I certainly didn’t want to be the guy that frightened her after she was dead. That broke my heart to even think about. I wished I could’ve apologized, but that would’ve meant dialing that number. I didn’t call her again, I didn’t try texting her, but I also didn’t delete her contact. I just couldn’t.
A month or so later, when our friend Betsy mentioned Lynn one night at dinner, I asked her if she still had Lynn’s number on her phone. She did. I said, “I wonder what would happen if you called it?” She pulled our her phone and called. She listened for a minute and then and shrugged. “It’s been disconnected,” she said. “What did you think was going to happen?” I kind of halfway laughed and said, “I was hoping she would answer.” Betsy said, “I get that, but, seriously, that’s a little messed up,” and that was the last time we talked about it. I haven’t tried to call Lynn again, because I don’t want to scare her, but I still wish she would call me.