The Liming House

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“3.. 2.. 1..”
“Happy new year,” J quipped, rolling her eyes.
I quirked an eyebrow in her direction. “Oh, come on. Humour me.”
“Face it M, the phone is not going to ring. And your endless countdowns are - well, they kinda sad actually.”
“Har de har.” I tossed the cell phone onto the bed and arranged myself on the floor of the bedroom.
“He said he was going to call.”
“And God said let there be light. Get over it, he”s not going to call, you”re not going to get back together and Creationism is a charming myth.”
“You still go to church though.”
“True. Damned Catholic guilt.”