I got the call very early in the morning and I only half understood who was on the other end. By the time I was able to fully comprehend who it was, I was almost in tears by what they were saying. It was Mr. Granola. I hadn’t heard from him in a few months. While dating Frank, I had received a few emails and drunken phone calls; nothing out of the ordinary.
The news on the other end of the phone was what I had secretly always worried about. Mr. Granola had been in an accident, a bad one too. The car was totaled. The drunken idiot drove his car into a tree. I wasn’t sure why exactly he was calling me. The conversation only lasted a few minutes which was a mixed blessing because I could go back to sleep but I couldn’t really after that phone call.
I called him the next day when it became a more reasonable hour. It wasn’t much of a conversation, just clarifying that he was in fact alive and not in the hospital. He told me he was a bit cut up from glass but would fine overall. He just needed some R and R and he would call me in a few days.
It took him about a week to get back to me. He was dealing with the implications of the accident meaning insurance companies, getting a new a car, and most importantly, dealing with the parentals. But he wanted me to come over so we could catch up. He told me he would cook some dinner.
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