“Ellen says she wants to see you.”
Trevor grunted, blew gray smoke toward the ceiling, tapped his cigarette on the ashtray.
“You know I’m not lying,” Ed opened his hand. “Throw her a chance, give her a call, pass the time.”
Trevor almost clenched his teeth, “Why?”
Ed’s shoulders moved forward, “Cause I’m asking. She’s asking.”
Trevor turned his jaw, “Why doesn’t she ask me herself?”
Both of Ed’s hands opened, “She is asking. She thinks if she calls you, you’ll see the number and not answer. Don’t laugh.”
The cigarette tapped on the ashtray as Trevor laughed. “I ain’t laughing. I don’t have a cell phone.”
“I know, I know. Whatdaya got, one of those things, an answering machine. Probably the only guy in the northern hemisphere.” He watched Trevor take a draw of the cigarette. “If you hear her voice, you gonna pick up? Is the gonna leave a message?”
“Either way she’s gotta leave a message, if I had a cell phone,” Trevor moved in the booth. “I see the number, I hear her voice."
“So hear her voice, Trevor. Hear her voice. It’ll do you some good.”
Gray smoke rose above the waggled cigarette, “I’m tired of hearing your voice.”