I do a quick sweep of the rest of the house.
No London.
Where the hell did she go?
Pulling my cell phone out of my pocket, I realize I’ve missed a text from her.
London: Had Jos pick me up. Needed to get home.
I quickly text her back.
Me: I wish you had waited for me.
It shows read almost instantly, as if she were actively waiting for my response.
London: Have you spoken to Cat?
Why the hell would I speak to Cat? I think to myself.
Me: No. Why?
Again, her response is almost instant.
London: You should. Then we can talk.
My confusion grows.
Me: Why would I need to talk to her and why can’t we talk now?
London: I’m sorry. I need a little time. Talk to Cat. She’ll explain.
Scratching my head, both literally and figuratively, I exit out of our text thread and pull up Cat’s number, then send her a quick text.
Me: What’s going on and why is London telling me I need to speak to you?
Nothing.
I wait five minutes and then text again, the message saying almost the exact same thing.
I try calling London, but she doesn’t answer.
I call Cat and she answers on the first ring.
“Why aren’t you texting me back?” I fire off without so much as a hello, my confusion growing to an anxious knot in my stomach that feels like it’s eating my insides.
“Sorry, I didn’t realize you texted me.”
“Why is London saying I need to speak with you?”
“We do need to talk, but I don’t want to do it over the phone. Are you home?”
“I am.”
“Give me ten minutes.”
I end the call without a response.
What the hell could she need to talk to me about? Why is London somehow involved? And why is no one telling me anything?
