First-Time Caller

“His voice is low. Rough. Like the storms that come in quick over the harbor and sit there, thunder rumbling, one rolling into another until the sky vibrates in your bones. Or maybe that’s my rage. I don’t know.”

Lucie is immediately drawn to Aiden, setting up the attraction between them before they even physically meet each other. Lucie uses a weather simile tied to Baltimore’s landscape, connecting Aiden to their shared community. Her shift from simile to remembering her anger adds a humorous element while reminding the reader that Aiden and Lucie’s initial relationship is not without some tension.

“There’s a pause, a muffled thud of a pillow being tossed across the room, and then bright, bubbling laughter. A pang of homesickness tugs right under my ribs. I think of my mom with that bag of gummy worms clutched against her chest.”

Aiden listens to Lucie and Maya and is clearly charmed, as his description of their laughter starkly contrasts with his cynicism about his own life. His emphasis on the physicality of his homesickness suggests that the scene has touched his heart, reminding him especially of his fraught but intense bond with his mother. Borison establishes that Aiden is drawn to Lucie because she is a parent, not in spite of it, setting him apart from others in her life.

“How often have I felt like I’m just drifting from one thing to the next? How hard has it been for me to muster enthusiasm for…anything? I’ve been caught in a fog and I can’t tug myself out of it. I’ve been feeling small. Less connected. I know exactly how she feels.”

Aiden’s use of nature metaphors here suggests that he regards his cynicism as something he is at the mercy of, like a weather event he cannot control. He emphasizes his own powerlessness, both the impossibility of escape and his sense of loss. Aiden is able to articulate his emotional life when talking to Lucie in ways he struggles to do with Jackson or Maggie, confirming the importance of their early affinity and the role of love in providing a sense of security.

“‘I think the entire Eastern Seaboard has heard it.’ He flicks up with his thumb, and message after message with the same Heartstrings logo appears. It’s the broadcast, I realize. Shared over and over and over again on some social media site. ‘You’ve gone viral.’”

The dialogue here establishes Grayson’s penchant for hyperbole and flair for the dramatic. Lucie’s repetition of “over and over” emphasizes the scale of the shock she is experiencing. This moment also ups the stakes of Lucie’s confession: What felt personal has now become national, so Maya has already changed Lucie’s life.

“She said on the phone that she wants magic. That she wants love to find her exactly where she is. I can’t imagine that participating in a radio show where dates are lined up like appetizer options at an Applebee’s happy hour will be very magical.”

Here, Aiden recounts some of Lucie’s thoughts from their first call nearly verbatim. This establishes that he takes her needs and desires seriously, even before they know each other well. Beneath his cynicism, he is kind, considerate, and empathetic. His comparison of dates to an Applebee’s menu showcases both his sense of humor and his cynicism; he is not interested in love as a spectacle or a commodity and may not believe in it at all.

“Hugged me so tight she almost bruised a rib. She wants so badly for me to be happy, and I want so badly to be the type of parent she’s proud of. One she doesn’t have to worry about.”

Lucie’s joy in Maya’s exuberance confirms her essential selflessness; Maya’s happiness is something she carries in her body and treasures. The repetition emphasizes the strong mutual bond between mother and daughter, as they each want the best for each other. Lucie’s fear that Maya is not proud of her or that she is a burden establishes that parenthood can be a source of both joy and stress, developing the theme of Parenthood as Both Challenge and Reward.

“‘And stop all of this from happening?’ She shakes her head. ‘No, I don’t think so.’ Her lips twitch into a full smile and she grins at me. Beautiful, I think hazily, my brain clearly somewhere on the floor with the dust bunnies and the Slurpee stain Eileen left six months ago. She’s really fucking beautiful.”

In this scene, Lucie and Aiden interact as strangers, and she laughs teasingly at his awkwardness. Aiden forgets his own discomfort at the sight of Lucie’s smile. He catalogues his messy surroundings—the dust and stains—but is not dismayed by them, overwhelmed by Lucie.

“If this was all some big joke—a ploy to get me to take the job and boost their ratings—I’ll walk right out the door and keep walking. I don’t want to be manipulated. Not with anything, but especially not with this. Not with this thing that feels like cracking open my ribs and exploring all the soft parts beneath.”

In this moment, Lucie balances her worst fears against her resolve: She may doubt her ability to find romance, but she refuses to doubt her worth. She insists on her right to reject being a commodity sold to help the station’s ratings. At the same time, she is acutely aware of her vulnerability, painting her fear with a physical simile that emphasizes how perilous growth feels in the moment.

“She says the name of the city in the way that all locals do. Slippery sounds that slot themselves into two syllables. Bawl-mer.

I smile. ‘Would you like to introduce yourself to our friends at home?’

Lucie takes a deep breath and lifts one shoulder. ‘It’s Lucie.’ Her eyes slant to mine and hold.”

Aiden takes in Lucie’s voice, immediately noticing her regional accent. This sets up that a shared sense of place is part of what draws Lucie to Aiden; love has found both of them where they are, even if they do not yet realize it. That she has no one else to seek reassurance from but Aiden helps establish the forced proximity of the radio booth as key to their relationship.

“‘Fine. You tell him what my face looks like.’

‘Well, you have a nose.’

She huffs.

‘And two ears. Those are nice.’

‘There you go,’ she says to the guy on the other side of the headphones. The one I forgot existed.”

Aiden preserves Lucie’s privacy—and shields her from those who might only be interested in looks—by avoiding describing her appearance; her mock-offense at his words adds humor to their dynamic. Aiden also admits to himself that he nearly forgot the original purpose of their exchange, telegraphing that he is becoming smitten with Lucie. The banter here confirms Aiden’s essential decency and protectiveness while adding to the romantic tension.

“I want someone to ease the ache of loneliness pressing down on my chest. I want a connection with someone that feels real, and I can’t do that if I keep sitting here in the booth with Aiden, talking to people on the phone. This whole thing is about being brave, taking chances. I’ve gotten comfortable with Aiden. I need to get out there.”

In this scene, Lucie describes her desire for connection with physical imagery, locating the pain and isolation in her body to stress its overwhelming nature. She sees Aiden as a kind of safety net, another way to choose retreat rather than connection, so she resolves to let go of her fear and choose risk, demonstrating that going viral has led to personal growth.

“He told me he knew he could get me on a date if he just fed me all the right lines. That women like me were predictable. That I was self-important and unrealistic. That someone who had a kid should be grateful for any attention at all.”

Lucie’s date essentially confirms her worst fears: that her search for love will be met with judgment and mockery. She feels reduced to a misogynistic stereotype, as the man suggests that single mothers have no right to real partnership. This moment confirms that Lucie’s anxieties stem from real pain.

“Somewhere in the hazy in-between, a hand slips under my hair and gently squeezes the back of my neck. His thumb traces the ridges of my spine, and my whole body gets heavier. ‘Nah, Lucie.’ In my dream, he brushes a kiss against my forehead. ‘I think you’re the magic.’”

In this moment, Lucie feels safe enough with Aiden to nearly fall asleep, in contrast to the pain of her failed date. Aiden is gentle and loving with her, belying his usual gruff exterior. He tells her that she is magic, assuring her that she is valued exactly as she is and should not change for anyone. His words hint at the two characters’ evolving attitudes toward epic romance: Where Lucie needs to learn to ground her fantasies in self-confidence, Aiden needs to learn to open himself to idealism, which he does largely through Lucie’s influence.

“This guy with the questionable jokes and the affinity for Shania Twain and the name that starts with an O that I’ve already forgotten again. He might be an idiot, but he makes her smile. And Lucie deserves someone who will make her smile. Not a grumpy asshole who makes that smile disappear.”

Aiden’s catalogue of traits establishes how jealous he is that Lucie may have found someone to date, as he disparages Oliver’s humor and refuses to try to remember his name; he even questions Oliver’s intelligence. However, it is telling that Aiden castigates himself even more harshly, insisting that he is a “grumpy asshole” who could ruin Lucie’s happiness. At this stage in the narrative, Aiden wants to be with Lucie but refuses to accept that he deserves her.

“But I’ve never claimed to be all that good to begin with, and I’ve been on my best behavior for weeks. Lucie’s mouth forms the shape of my name and my restraint crumbles, reduced to dust at her feet. I don’t want to fight it anymore. I can’t.”

Here, Aiden compares himself to someone breaking a rule, no longer able to be “good” or on his “best behavior.” This suggests that he sees being with Lucie as a kind of temptation he can no longer resist. His moment of surrender marks a turning point, as he finally has to confront the feelings he previously denied.

“There’s something about her hands and the heavy machinery, I decide as I wait for her on the sidewalk. The confidence with which she maneuvers around my car. She’s quick and efficient, practiced and smooth. She hops back into her tow truck and backs it up to the bumper, one hand braced on the passenger head rest, her neck tilted gracefully toward the back window.”

This scene marks a key shift in Aiden’s sense of Lucie, as he sees her in her professional element rather than his. He focuses on her skill and ease, captivated by skills that he lacks. Aiden’s focus on every detail of her movements further telegraphs that he is falling in love with her; even in a stereotypically masculine job, Lucie strikes him as “graceful” and lovely.

“‘I remember all the things you’ve said,’ he grumbles, voice low, and I’m not sure I was supposed to hear it because he rubs his free hand over his mouth and continues to stare at the fort. Meanwhile I’m practically bursting next to him, champagne bubbles of happiness rising in the center of my chest.”

Lucie’s focus on Aiden’s tone and volume harkens to the motif of their voices, which brought them together in the first place. His building of the fort, and his admission that he remembers everything she says, is a kind of confession of love. Lucie compares her joyful reaction to champagne bubbles, creating a celebratory mood commonly associated with weddings, engagements, etc.

“‘I don’t want something perfect; I want something honest. Something that can be mine.’ I reach for Maya’s hand with mine and she twists our fingers together, squeezing. ‘I think it’s time I make my own magic, kiddo.’”

This scene re-establishes that Lucie’s love for Maya has always informed her feelings about romance, bringing their journey full circle. She tells Maya that authenticity matters more than perfection, reclaiming her role as the one to offer romantic advice rather than receive it. Their linked hands confirm that Lucie’s romantic journey has brought them closer together. Lucie’s final declaration reveals that Maya’s call, which brought her to Aiden, has restored her confidence and belief in her own agency.

“‘It won’t hurt if you don’t care, right? How many lies have you told, Aiden?’

His face is guarded. An animal backed into a corner. ‘I’m not lying about this, Lucie. I can’t give you what you want.’

I shake my head. ‘I’m the one who decides that. Not you.’”

Lucie’s pointed questions illuminate how well she has come to know Aiden, as well as her growing confidence. She demands answers from him, insisting that she deserves more than cynical platitudes. Her metaphor comparing him to a trapped animal confirms that he is operating on instinct, driven by his refusal to accept emotion as part of his life. She refuses to accept his authority to choose for her, demonstrating that while she doubts their future as a couple, she no longer doubts herself.

“If I stay here, I don’t have to acknowledge the last couple of hours. If I stay here, I can trick myself into believing that Lucie will walk back through the door. If I stay here, I can keep everything exactly where it’s supposed to be.”

The repetition (specifically, anaphora) highlights Aiden’s sense of despair and powerlessness; he is afraid to enter a phase of his life that lacks Lucie. He is torn between denial and hope, desperate to avoid confronting his own choices and equally desperate to see Lucie again. Though he is too fearful to admit it to her, Lucie has become a core part of Aiden’s world that he hesitates to lose.

“I pick up the tiny airplane again. ‘Okay.’ I let it fly across the room. ‘Then, yes. It has to do with her.’

My dad hums. ‘Tell me what happened.’

And for the first time in a very long time, I do.”

In this moment, Aiden finally accepts vulnerability. His use of the paper airplane that Lucie made as a touchstone renders her influence tangible, illustrating that she has made him want to pursue authenticity in his other relationships. Aiden’s choice to accept love forces him to reexamine all his relationships, and he goes on to admit his fears to his father.

“‘Long-time listener, first-time caller,’ he says over the line. There’s a reluctant grin in his voice. It twists his words up at the edges, just like his smile. ‘I was hoping you could give me some advice.’”

Aiden brings his relationship with Lucie back to where it began: with a phone conversation about feelings. However, Aiden intentionally reverses their original roles, showing Lucie he understands that she is the real expert on love and that he respects her agency. Lucie is attuned to the emotions that his tone suggests, continuing the motif of sound and voices as part of their relationship.

“I want to hold her hand. I want to have pancakes at her house on Sunday mornings and I want to help with Indiana Jones costumes. I want her people to be my people too.”

Aiden’s repetition as he lists his wishes demonstrates his newfound certainty and commitment to Lucie. He references his first breakfast with her, as well as Maya’s cosplay hobby, proving that he loves Lucie as she is and that he wants to be a part of her life. This open, vulnerable confession reveals Aiden’s commitment to recognizing his own emotions and sharing them.