ANDY FITCH'S APARTMENT
Andy steps out into the bedroom.
The air is cool against his naked upper body, still steaming from the heat
of the bathroom. That shower felt wonderful after the night he had ...
What a night. He hasn't had one like
it since college, as far as he can remember. Certainly not one as completely
exhausting and yet totally invigorating all at the same time. He can't
quite figure out how he feels: The feeling of sorrow that his mother actually
married Nick is great, but it is being blanketed by a different feeling,
a lighthearted one--
The phone tears him from his wandering
thoughts. He makes his way across the bedroom and picks up on the second
ring. "Hello?"
"Andy," comes the familiar voice
on the other end.
"Claire. What did you wind up--"
"Have you seen Tim?"
"What?"
"Tim," she repeats. "When did you
see him last?" There is a frantic note in her voice that sets Andy on edge.
"At the pier," he says. "Why? What's
wrong?"
"He never came home last night, as
far as I can tell."
"What? I had to leave the pier before
Nick showed up, but Tim stayed behind to see what would happen--"
"So you don't know what happened
to him after that?"
"No."
"Dammit ... All right, I need to
keep searching. I'll talk to you later, okay?"
"Okay. Good luck."
There is a click in Andy's ear. He
hangs up his own phone and places it back on the receiver, turning the
strange conversation over in his mind. Something didn't sound right with
Claire.
She's just worried about Tim,
he reasons as he strips off his towel and begins getting dressed. I
wonder what happened to him. I should have checked back in -- but I was
so preoccupied ...
With Maggie. Even though he
knows it shouldn't be happening right now, a smile curls his lips.
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