Richard's nap had turned into a sleep, which he should have predicted. The number of late nights he'd had over the past several weeks had resulted in a sleep debt he was unlikely to pay off any time soon.

Nevertheless, he was up at the crack of dawn the next morning. The sun did not seem to rise so much as to gently illuminate the sky bit by bit from behind a veil of clouds, and as the sky lightened, Richard's heart grew heavier.

Sure enough, by 7:30 AM it was sprinkling. Richard put some coffee on to brew and checked the weather app on his phone. It looked like it would clear up by midday, and the race wouldn't start until 4:30. Most likely, they wouldn't be rained out, but as Richard peered out the window over his cup of steaming coffee, he felt very pessimistic indeed.

Around 9, Richard phoned the office at the track to ask them to hold two tickets for Garth—one for him and one for his mystery companion. Then he sat down to relax on the couch, scrolling through the tech and science news on his laptop, his favorite morning ritual.

As he was reading an article about a recently-discovered enzyme that could break down plastic, a text flashed on his phone. He picked it up and swiped to open the message without thinking, only to feel like he had been punched in the lower stomach, hard, by someone whose friends called him Butch.

[Devil Woman] Are you awake?

What the hell did Charlise want at 9 AM on a Saturday morning after more than nine months of complete radio silence? Richard stared at the screen of his phone, feeling clammy and hot at the same time. Had someone died? Had she thought of something else she wanted from him that she hadn't gotten in the settlement? Did she want to "discuss"—a term that, when used to describe an interaction with Charlise, meant something more like "monologue endlessly in a shrill voice"—something from their past?

Richard tapped to respond, choosing each letter with care.

[Richard] Good morning to you too.

An immediate response came in.

[Devil Woman] Don't be childish. We need to talk.

[Richard] Wonderful. Shall I just punch myself in the face several times and save you the trouble?

[Devil Woman] I'm calling you

No, no, no, this absolutely could not happen. A conversation with Charlise would be the cherry on top of this rainy day and utterly destroy any focus he could hope to have during the—

The phone rang.

Racked with anxiety and an intense desire to do anything but speak with Charlise, Richard stared at the phone as it rang without moving. Seconds passed, and the call ended. A missed call message appeared on the screen.

The phone immediately began to ring again.

"I really hope someone's died," Richard muttered. He closed his eyes and swiped to answer the call. "Hullo."

"You can be so immature sometimes," Charlise snapped. "I have better things to do with my time than wait for you to pick up the phone."

"Excellent. Go do those better things. It's been great chatting with you—"

"Stop. I need to know the town you were born in again."

This took him aback. "What?"

"Your place of birth! I know it starts with a D. What was it?"

"Why do you need to know?"

"Mitchell and I are getting pre-approval for a mortgage, not that it's any of your business, and I am trying to organize the accounts. You must have set up my savings account with e-bank for me because I can't remember the password and it's asking me security questions."

Of course. Mitchell and Charlise were venturing into homeownership in the dizzyingly blissful first months of marriage. That must mean that Charlise was selling the home they'd purchased together, the home she'd taken in the settlement. The home Richard had adored.

Not that it was any of his business.

"You don't remember where I was born?" he asked.

"Just tell me and I can let you get on with your day. I'm sure you have fascinating things to do."

Something about speaking to Charlise, no matter how blatantly mean she could be, made Richard feel guilty and sick. He didn't know why he couldn't just brush off her comments and get on with his life, leaving her behind.

"Richard? Hello! I have a pen ready."

A movement in the corner of his eye drew Richard's attention. He looked up to see Garth walking in carrying a mug of coffee. Garth raised his eyebrows in question, and Richard mouthed, Devil Woman.

Garth cocked his head, his thoughts clear on his face. Why the hell is she calling you?

Charlise spoke to someone in the background on the other end of the line. "I don't know, I'm trying to get it but he isn't answering. He probably can't even remember." She spoke into the phone again. "Richard, I haven't got all day."

Garth pointed to Richard's mobile and smiled.

Richard shook his head. All he had to do was tell Charlise his city of birth and she'd be back out of his life.

Garth pointed to Richard's mobile again and then at his chest.

Richard turned away from him. "I'm here. Sorry."

"Well hurry the hell up! Only you could take a simple question and draw it out into a project. What. Is. Your. Birthplace?"

Just as he opened his mouth to respond, Richard's mobile phone slipped out of his fingers. He turned in shock to see Garth looking down into the glowing screen. Garth tapped, and the phone switched to speaker.

"—so complicated! Spell it for me so I get it right and don't have to call you again—"

"F, U," Garth began in a soft, high-pitched tone. "C—"

"Shh!" Richard snapped. "It's Bricklethorpe. B—"

"K, Y, O," Garth continued.

"Who is that?" Charlise broke in.

"Just ignore it. Bricklethorpe. B, R, I, C—"

"U, Y, O, U—"

"K—be quiet, she's going to get it confused—"

"V, I—I'm helping clarify the situation here, babe." Garth batted his eyelashes and smiled.

"Richard?" Charlise's voice was less shrill now and more confused. "Are you with a woman?"

"L, E, B, I," Garth continued, still using the soft, feminine voice. "Are you getting this, honey?"

Richard sighed, but the ridiculousness of the situation had finally struck him. He cracked a grin.

"T, C, H. Do you need me to repeat that for you, Charlise?"

"Who is this?" she demanded.

Richard snatched the phone back from Garth, trying to smother his laughter. "My birthplace is Bricklethorpe, Lancashire. If you can't spell it, look it up. I think you can afford the 30 seconds it'll take you to Google it; if you can't, you should have paid attention at some point during the 10 years we were married. I have lots of very interesting things to do with my Saturday now. Don't call again."

He hung up.

Garth pumped his fist. "Yes! Oh my God, if there were ever an argument for old-fashioned phones, it's this moment, right here. That finger-tap would have been so much more satisfying as a receiver-slam. Why is she calling you about where you were born?"

"Security questions." Richard laid his phone on the end table and picked up his coffee again. "You know, when you get married, it's a mess to combine two lives. You both have your own physical stuff, your own accounts and finances, and you have to find a way to integrate everything. But getting divorced and undoing all that is a much larger pain in the arse."

"Let it be a pain in her ass. You don't owe her anything. She could have just called customer service and spent 45 minutes on the phone with them instead."

"I'm a merciful man, Garth. I like to think I was a hero today. I saved a customer service representative 45 minutes in hell by spending three minutes there myself. And it was only three minutes thanks to you."

"She's currently picturing you with an extremely attractive super model. I have an exceptional super model voice."

Richard laughed. "Yeah...right. I'm just going to leave this at 'thank you.' Hey, by the way, I had the office hold two tickets to the race for you."

"Excellent! I'm going out for 'brunch' with the prospective candidate. What do you eat for brunch? I hope it isn't salad."

"Wait, you have a date?"

Garth wiggled his eyebrows with a secretive smile. "Hopefully he isn't related in any way to Charlise. I'm gonna go shower. If she calls again, don't pick up. You gotta get in the zone for the race, man. Don't let her throw off your groove." 

Well, this wasn't a very nice way for Richard's Saturday to start off, was it? At least he had Garth there to save him from a tough phone call. I like to think that Charlise is not truly a bad person, but oooh, she makes it tough to be on her side. 

Oh, well: this is Richard's story, so we get to root for him.