Putting In The Work at 1:07:00 PM

"Hello?" I said into my wireless phone that Tracy held to my cheek with a fresh mouthful of raisin specked Cherrios. I dropped my spoon onto the table by the semi-peeled banana I had planned on eating next.

"Denise. This is Dorian."

My hand came up to my mouth and my eyes poked out of their sockets as I scrambled with sections of the newspaper on the table to get a napkin.

"Hey." I chirped, hoping he couldn't hear me spitting what was in my mouth into the empty Starbucks cup. I brought my fingers up to Tracy's arm and started pinching her. She laughed at me as I slid the back of my palm over my lips and eased the phone in my other hand.

"Who's that?" I could hear Tracy asking in the background. I waved her off.

"Good to hear you're up so early on a Sunday."

"It's not early." I took a peep at the clock on the wall behind me above the stove where Tracy was bringing two eggs to a boil and released my legs from underneath my butt. "It's only..." I struggled with the positioning of the fancy Roman numerals. "A little after eleven."

"To a lot of people it's still early in the morning."

Tracy leaned over and placed her chin on my shoulder and whispered in my ear.

"Who's that?"

"Well, you're up too." I said and pulled the receiver away from my cheek and rasped to Tracy harshly, "Dorian."

"During the season I'm always up before eight. But look, what's tomorrow?" He asked curiously.

I furrowed my brow and stood up from the small square dining table. Nothing came to me. I wondered if he was trying to be sarcastic.

"Tomorrow? Monday."

"Just Monday?"

I nodded even though he couldn’t see me.

"Yeah."

I ignored Tracy’s colorless voice as she continued asking me who Dorian was. I was ready to pop her.

"Wrong."

I was amused.

"Then what's tomorrow?"

"Game night at MSG at eight."

I began to smile.

"Oh, I thought you meant---,"

"Is it still just Monday?"

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