Glimmer

I

"You're about to ruin a perfectly good friendship."

Her last comment to me before she took her fourteen year old daughter with her on vacation. She was headed south, Atlanta, Georgia, to visit family. No one has heard from her since.

After three days, the police went through their procedures. Both Georgia and New York states had been notified. The school had been asked by the police to make certain that they be informed the moment that the daughter was seen.

A week turned into two weeks, then a month, then two. Each time I speak to any of her friends, they have no new information to add. Her family down south said that she stayed for a week, then that she was driving back to New York; sight seeing along the way. Her work by now must have been distributed among the people that she manages.

Life continues in the way that it does. Soon, she would become a memory. People have to get on with their lives.

I thought that we were better friends. What a selfish thought on my part. We never discussed dating exclusively. That was a conversation on reserve for when she got back from Georgia. I honestly felt at the time that we had a chance at being happy together.

Her daughter and I seemed to be getting along. I remember vividly the look on Genevieve's face when she had mentioned wanting to go to that restaurant that serves the four hundred dollar stakes, how Amada looked at her mom and exclaimed, "Four hundred dollars!"

I had tapped Amada's shoulder and said, "For a piece of meat."

We paused then. Burst into laughter and leaned on each other for support. Genevieve had stared, not knowing how to react.

I can only imagine that she felt happy that her daughter and I were getting along. Confused that it had happened so quickly. Afraid because the possibility of permanence with our own relationship was becoming more of a probability. Afraid as well because both she and I had been in prior relationships that were supposed to be permanent, but ended.

Our first coffee date had been a blast. We talked for three and a half hours. The only reason why we had to stop was because her daughter called her, reminding her that she had to go home.

"I didn't know that you have a curfew."

"Apparently, I do."

We had laughed at the notion that the tables had turned. The teenager scolding the mom When I suggested that we get together again soon, she replied with, "Definitely."

Later that evening, when I had returned home, just before I took off my coat, I received a text thanking me for "an awesome date."

Three other outings later, we were still talking for hours at a time. The excitement of the new? Had we really connected so deeply, so quickly?

"Where did you go?" I stare out of my window at the night. Eleven storeys below the traffic on the parkway flows steadily. A horn blares; her face disappears. I sigh and notice my own eyes staring back at me in the reflection on the window.

I need a distraction. All of this not knowing isn't good for me. I need to exercise.

What if you're hurt or trapped? What are you doing to keep yourself and your daughter safe? I'm too distracted to exercise. I'll go for a run.