Just Say

or

Other Things To Think About

Tom

It's been three months.

Three long months and now I'm back home. Home, back to Frances and my parents, back to school, back to my friends.

I've been home for nearly a month. Three weeks, three days, and twenty-one hours, to be exact.

Rose still hasn't called.

She knew I was going to be gone. She knew when I was coming back. She knew I'd miss her just as much as she'd miss me.

So why hasn't she called?

XXX

Rose

Tom's been back from South America for more than three weeks now. Three weeks, three days, and twenty-two hours, really.

So why hasn't he called?

Maybe he met one of the pretty girls I know live all over South America. Maybe he fell in love with one of them and has forgotten all about me. Maybe she is so much better than me that he wants to forget all about me.

That must be it.

Why else wouldn't Tom call? He knew I would miss him lots. He knows my phone number, my mobile number, my address and my email. He knows how to talk to me.

So why hasn't he?

XXX

Tom

I haven't talked to Rose in months. What if she's different now?

When I am away from Rose I worry that she will change, but when she is within reach I know that I am stuck with her the way she is. Permanently perfect Rose.

But what if I am wrong? What if Rose has changed? Or worse, what if someone else has got to her first? What if Rose has a boyfriend?

That must be it. She's got a boyfriend and has forgotten all about me. She doesn't even want to think of me anymore because she has a boyfriend and that's why she hasn't called.

I want to rip my hair out at the thought of another boy with my Rose. My Rose.

XXX

Rose

Three o'clock in the morning here is only late evening in New York. It is also the time when my resistance is at its lowest, and I think the most. It's been three months and one week and three days since I've talked to Tom and I'm going crazy at the thought of him with some other girl, some of the girl with my Tom and I feel like I'm going to die and I need to know if we're still friends before I do. Die, that is.

So I creep downstairs to the telephone, careful not to wake Saffy or Indigo or David or especially Buttercup, and I dial the number I know by heart.

XXX

Tom

No, no, no!

What am I talking about?

Of course Rose doesn't have a boyfriend. She's mine and we both know that. Have known it for years.

I'm going crazy.

I knew this would happen. I knew it would. This is exactly what happened last time I didn't talk to Rose for months. I kept waiting for her letter and when it didn't come I convinced myself that I had been forgotten. And Rose was waiting for my letter, feeling like she had been forgotten.

Oh god.

What if that's why she hasn't called?

What if she's waiting for me to call her?

I rush downstairs, making sure not to wake up Frances or my parents, and pick up the phone to call Rose and then I pause, remembering it's three o'clock in the morning there.

Just then, the phone starts ringing in my hand.

I answer on the first ring.

XXX

Rose

He answers on the first ring.

"Are we still friends? Are we? Or not?"

"Hello?" he says, sounding hopeful but a bit resigned.

"Just say."

"Rose?" Now he sounds much more alert, almost excited, even.

"Tom oh Tom oh Tom. It's three in the morning and everything's awful and I need to know before I die."

"Permanent Rose. Permanent Rose." His voice is deep and comforting, just like I remember it. "Permanent Rose," he says again, and sighs.

XXX

Tom

Rose has called. Finally, at long last, I can hear her voice again, soft and low (Buttercup must be sleeping), just as I remember it.

"Tom oh Tom oh Tom. It's three in the morning and everything's awful and I need to know before I die." She sounds panicked and unhappy, and I feel the immediate need to calm her down and reassure her of whatever she needs to know.

I sigh, beyond glad that the period of no contact is over, at last.

"Permanent Rose. Permanent Rose. Permanent Rose. I missed you. So much. So much more than I ever want to feel again. What's wrong, sweetheart?"

"Tom." She's nearly sobbing now, and I ache to hold her in my arms. "Tom, I missed you and I thought you had forgotten me and run off with a pretty girl from South America and were ignoring me. Are we still friends?"

"Of course we are friends! Just because I went away for a while and because I was stupid and didn't call you doesn't mean we're not friends!"

She hiccups, they way people do when they've cried too much, but doesn't say anything.

"Rose," I sigh. "Rose, darling Rose, don't ever think that I've forgotten you. I don't think I can. I'm moving to London this spring, so that I won't have to be so far away from you anymore. Just wait until spring and then you can come see me whenever you want."

"You're moving to London? Here?"

"Yes, I am. I will be in England right near where you are and I will see you every weekend and I won't ever leave for so long again. Don't worry."

"Tom? Will you play me a song?"

I smile. Rose loves hearing me play; it's no surprise that she missed it enough to want to hear it now. I grab my guitar and go outside into the cold, cold air and adjust to speakerphone and settle down to play.

I play and play until I have gone through all of my songs for Rose and then I start making some up, humming and murmuring because I can tell she's nearly asleep. And when I start to hear soft snores coming from the phone, I pick up the phone and whisper something softly, then hang up.

XXX

Rose

Tom plays his guitar for me for ages. And after a while I'm nearly asleep and then I am asleep, but I hear Tom say one last thing after the music stops. He whispers it so softly I don't think he meant for me to hear it, but I did.

And I slip into my dreams, a smile on my face and Tom's words echoing in my head.

My Rose, my darling Rose. I love you.