On the last day of the last month she called. Happy for a reason to stop the lawnmower and sit awhile, I took her call and settled in for a long chat about kids, marriage, work, neighbors, and all those other things women have to say. At the 45 minute mark of the conversation, my ears burning from the heat of my phone, I began to make my conversation-ending summation when she asked:
"Why don't you ever call me?"
My answer was completely truthful! I'm not a phone talker. I rarely call anyone. I'm an emailer and texter and face-to-face talker. And I sounded entirely defensive and completely unbelievable.
As I struggled to find a way to leave the conversation without sounding even less sincere, she asked one last question:
"I tell you my problems. Why don't you tell me yours?"
The only thing I could think of as an answer was, "Because I really don't want to."
But since I couldn't really say that and because I couldn't think of any other reason, I blamed Checkered for needing the phone and I hung up.
I still can't think of a better answer. Can you?