Saturday’s Plans

Saturday’s phone chimed softly and steadily grew louder. This particular ring was reserved for Sunday because it reminded her of him; annoying.

“What?” she answered.

“What are you doing today?” Sunday’s gruff voice said through the small speaker.

“Going out.”

“Not till tonight, you aren’t. What are you doing today?”

Saturday hesitantly opened the blackout curtain revealing the condo’s small backyard, brightly lit by the noon sun. “Sleeping.”

“I need you to help me with something.”

“How about no.”

“This really needs to get done, but you know I’m not supposed to work.”

Saturday closed the curtains again. “I planned to stay in my P-Js all day until I had to get ready for tonight.”

“I don’t care what you wear,” Sunday said. “I need you to…”

She sat the phone down on the vanity, used the toilet, and returned.

“…but if there is a racoon, I’d take that instead,” she heard Saturday say as she returned to the phone.

“Racoon, got it.”

“But only if they don’t have any cats available.”

A new alert was on her phone; a new email. The preview showed, “Dear Saturday, I can’t help but think…”

“Did you hear me?” Sunday asked.

“Sunday, I’m serious, no. I’m not helping you with your schemes anymore.” She hung up.