Almost Missed You

He’d been so optimistic. But he suddenly felt certain that she wasn’t coming. Damn. Damn, damn, damn. There was always the more direct Camp Pickiwicki ad—he could try that one. But if the woman from the beach ever looked at the Missed Connections, she would have surely recognized their meeting in the ad he had placed. For the thousandth time, he cursed himself for not getting her name while he had the chance. And then he vowed that this would be the last time he’d what if the whole thing, period. It had seemed so meant to be—if anything was meant to be, wasn’t that it?—but clearly he’d been wrong. He’d tried. There was no forcing these things.

A server carried a tray of sweating, foam-topped pints through the outdoor seating area of the Rock Bottom Brewery behind the fountain, and Finn eyed them with a sudden and intense thirst. He wasn’t above sliding onto a barstool alone as long as a baseball game played on the flat-screens suspended behind the bar. There was just the small matter that if the woman from the beach was not here, that meant someone else was probably here in her place. He had two options: He could slink away and wallow in his disappointment, or he could figure out who else in the square seemed to be waiting and give her the apology he owed her.

Finn had noticed the beautiful figure seated on the far side of the fountain right away, but now he did a double take. She was wearing a sleeveless dress in a large black-and-white floral pattern, a thin red patent leather belt fastened snugly at the waistline, and shiny red heels extending her shapely petite legs. The dress and the way she sat perched on the edge of a stone bench, leaning delicately to the side, all her weight on a slender arm, with her head tilted ever so slightly up, reminded him of a Baz Luhrmann reimagining of a classic film starlet. Her long, dark curls were so glossy they were actually gleaming in the sun.

But she wasn’t entirely picturesque. Each time he sneaked a glance at her, she was looking more and more annoyed. Some women might have busied themselves with their cell phone while waiting, but not this one. She wasn’t a pretender, he could see that. Still, so intent was she on glaring at the people turning the corners and stepping into the square that she didn’t notice his approach.

He stood just to the left of her bench and cleared his throat. “I don’t suppose you’re here in response to a Missed Connections ad about meeting on vacation,” he said to the fountain, being careful to avoid looking in her direction.

“Oh, hell. Seriously?” She got to her feet, scowling. “You know, maybe you could have been more specific.”

“I’ve been standing here thinking the same thing.”

“Well,” she said, “better luck next time.”

She started off across the square at a surprisingly brisk clip given the height of her heels. “Wait—” he called, surprising himself. She turned and raised her eyebrows. He faltered. “I mean … is that it?”

“What, are we supposed to small-talk now about the people we were hoping to meet?”

He cocked his head. “Kind of. Maybe.”

“No, thanks.”

“I’m sorry.” The apology caught her just as she was about to turn away again. “I feel awful, ruining your night—”

“Forget it. You didn’t ruin anything. It’s not even seven thirty.”

“Well, wasting your time, I mean.” Her anger was making him feel worse. Like he needed to fix it. “Why don’t you let me buy you a drink?”

“Are you seriously taking this opportunity to hit on me?” She squinted at him with exaggerated suspicion. “Did you even meet a woman on vacation at all? Is this, like, your thing? Placing vague ads and waiting to see who shows up?”

“If that were my strategy, it would be a pretty painful one. I can see that it doesn’t work.”

“It does not.”

He gestured across the square with his arm. “All I’m saying is that we’re here—” She was right. It did sound pitiful. He didn’t really mean it, anyway. This woman was way out of his league. And she was missing a certain faded mustard yellow T-shirt. He let the arm drop to his side with a clumsy slap. “You know what, never mind.”

“Excuse me?” Finn turned to see a well-dressed older woman smiling at them. “I hate to see such an attractive couple argue. Would the two of you happen to like some LumenoCity tickets? It might brighten up your night. You know, literally!” She giggled at her own joke.

Finn was about to politely decline when a voice at his side spoke up. “LumenoCity? They ran out of tickets months ago! I entered the lottery over and over, but I never win anything.” Finn stole a glance at his companion. She was smiling angelically at this random stranger and seemed to be emphatically avoiding Finn’s eyes.

“Oh, me either,” the stranger said, fingering the sheer wisp of a scarf tied at her neck. “I mean, does anybody win those things? But my husband got a four-pack through his company, and the couple who was meeting us here to come along just bailed. It seems they got in an argument on the way.” She smiled. “Must be something in the air tonight.”

“I can’t even begin to thank you,” said the woman at Finn’s side, looping her arm through his. “We were just trying to decide what to do with ourselves tonight. We would love to go. In fact, you’ve settled our argument!”

Finn looked down at her, bemused. The stranger extended her arm with two tickets fanned out. “My pleasure. When my other friends find out about this, they’re going to be sick that they missed out. Sick! But there’s no way any of them could get down here in time. Traffic is slow clear to I-275.”

Finn felt an elbow jab him in the ribs. “Well, thank you for your kindness,” he said quickly. “We promise to enjoy it on their behalf!”

As the woman waved and headed off, Finn noted that the arm looped through his did not take the first opportunity to move away. “What,” he said under his breath, “is LumenoCity?”





7

AUGUST 2016

Bear clung to Caitlin with his full body, legs and all, the way her own boys did when they were hurt or scared. She tilted her head to get a better look at his face. He did not look like a boy who had been sleeping well. His eyes and cheeks had the same puffy look as Violet’s when she’d last seen her. And even though he was smiling bravely, she sensed that if she said the wrong thing, he could dissolve into tears. She thought of how Gus would go silent when he was confused or unsure about something. About how Leo would get that wide-eyed, innocent look.

“Is Mommy here?” he asked, looking at her expectantly.

“Not right this minute, sweetie, but if she knew you were here, I promise you she would be.”

“Is she going to be here?” he asked.

Caitlin could feel Finn’s warning look without even glancing at him. “I sure hope so,” Caitlin said carefully. “Your mommy misses you so much.”

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