“That’s why we keep the wine chilled, dear girl,” Gram said, taking three glasses from the cabinet and filling them all.
“It’s not even noon,” Katie protested insincerely, and then took a big sip. “There’s actually a tasting at the zoo tonight, if you ladies want to come. Wild About Wine, they’re calling it. There’s live music.”
“Sounds fun,” Violet said.
“I’ve got plans to go salsa dancing, but you girls have fun,” Gram said.
Violet opened her mouth to make a joke that it was supposed to be the other way around, them going out dancing and Gram wearing linen and heels to the zoo’s botanical gardens, but thought better of it. Katie could be a little sensitive about these things.
“So. I’ve got news.” Katie looked excessively proud of herself, like a precocious child who was going to make them guess and guess at the answer.
“You met someone?” Violet had learned that almost all of Katie’s news revolved around meeting or failing to meet someone.
“Not me,” she said slyly, walking Violet’s glass over to her. “But you really won’t believe it. I was on Craigslist reading the Missed Connections—”
“And what are the Missed Connections?” Gram asked, sliding gingerly onto a counter stool.
“Oh.” Katie’s eyes were bright. “They’re these postings, kind of like a modern twist on those old personal ads, where people write things like, ‘I talked with you one morning while we were both waiting for the bus. I didn’t have the nerve to ask for your phone number, and now I regret it. You were wearing a yellow skirt and knee-high riding boots and I would love to see you again.’”
Gram lifted her eyes to the ceiling. “You young people these days. You don’t talk to one another. It’s all those ridiculous devices you’re always playing with instead.”
“The real question isn’t the societal decline evidenced by the Missed Connections,” Violet said, laughing. “The real question is, what were you doing reading them? Did you meet someone? Or—miss someone?”
“I wish! No, I just think they’re romantic. I mean, a lot of them are actually pretty stupid—but they give me hope that people out there believe in … I don’t know, something.”
Violet slipped a slice of apple into her mouth. “This makes me think of an article I read the other day. Did you know that in the 1930s, most couples lived within ten blocks of each other when they first met?”
“Is that a fact?” Gram asked. “You know, it doesn’t really surprise me.”
“Well, in your day—” Katie began.
“Watch it, young lady,” Gram teased, swatting at her with a tea towel. “I may be an antique, but the ’30s were not ‘my day.’”
“I don’t even know anyone who lives within ten blocks of me,” Violet said. “Except you, Gram.”
“I don’t know,” Katie said. “Isn’t that kind of sad? That everyone would just pick the best available option within reach? Although if things were still that way, maybe we’d both be married by now…”
“Maybe you would,” Gram agreed, and both women shot her a warning look. She raised her hands in surrender. “Sorry. Anyway, back to these missed chances.”
“Missed Connections,” Violet corrected her.
“They sound like missed chances to me. I wouldn’t want to hear from a man who didn’t have the guts to talk to me right off, anyway.”
“What if it didn’t have anything to do with guts?” Katie asked. “What if there was some reason beyond his control that kept things from moving ahead?”
“Such as?” Violet said.
“Such as a woman going into anaphylactic shock on the beach.”
“Very funny. No one went searching for a Missed Connection there.”
“Oh, but he did.” Katie’s eyes twinkled. She extracted a piece of paper from her pocket, unfolded it, and smoothed it on the counter next to Violet. “He just took his sweet time getting around to it.”
“‘You on the beach in the Camp Pickiwicki shirt…’” Violet read aloud. She clamped her hand over her mouth. “Oh, my God.”
“What does it say?” Gram asked, sitting up straighter.
“It’s one hundred percent him!” Katie squealed. “He says his name is Finn. You know his name is Finn, Vi.”
“What,” Gram demanded, “does the damn thing say?”
Violet swallowed the lump in her throat. “‘If you’re reading this, the third coincidence is the charm. Care to pick up where fate left off? My name is Finn, by the way. It’s pretty obvious by now that I should have told you that.’”
“What were the first two coincidences?” Gram asked, puzzled.
“That they both went to Camp Pickiwicki, and they both live here now but met in Florida,” Katie answered for her. “Or, wait—is that three coincidences?” Her brow furrowed. “Well, so what if he can’t count. It’s him. It’s so him!” She downed the rest of her wine in a big gulp and clinked the glass down.
Violet read the ad again. “I don’t get it. After all this time—two years?”
“You don’t know that he didn’t try to look for you before. This might just be the first note you’ve seen! Imagine: There could have been flyers on buses—you always drive!—and messages on the scoreboard—you never go to Reds games!—or ads in the Enquirer—you never read the paper! Even this, you didn’t see—I just happen to have seen it!” Katie’s excitement bubbled over into a full-out squeal, and Gram laughed in spite of herself.
Violet raised an eyebrow. “There’s also the small detail that he was engaged.”
Katie was undeterred. “So they called it off! And he thought about the one possibility that got away. You can’t hold it against him when it’s so positively perfect.”
“So what am I supposed to say—that I actually happen to know his name and that he was engaged because he canceled a job interview with me? Supposedly because he was going to relocate, though obviously he’s still here?”
“That was a year ago. He might not be still here. He might be back here. All that matters is that he’s here. And you’re not supposed to say anything. You know nothing.” Katie waved her fingers in front of Violet’s face like a deranged magician.
“You know I can never keep a secret,” Violet said, laughing. “I tell everyone everything. And even if I don’t, they read it all over my face.”
“Keep this one,” Katie said firmly. “I’m sure he’ll tell you on his own, answer all your questions then, and the two of you can have a laugh about your near misses before fate finally brought you together.”
“I don’t know if the Missed Connections page qualifies as fate.”
“Sure it does. What are the odds of someone taking the leap of faith to post something after all this time? What are the odds of you seeing it? What are the odds of you still being available and interested?”
“And when he asks if I’ve thought about him at all for the last two years?”
“Be honest. I mean, he placed the ad looking for you. He’ll be glad to hear you’ve been thinking about him.”
“Honest except for the year I was thinking he was engaged?”
Katie shrugged. “Be honest and play dumb.”
“At the same time?”
“Well…” She smiled. “Yeah.”
20