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“She has,” I reply, frowning. “You know what it’s like when you meet someone new. It’s all you can think of.”
Michelle sighs. “I would surely love to remember what that feels like.”
I smile. Both of us have been single too long for our comfort.
I take out my cell and write a text to Sherri.
NATALIA: You are actually alive, are you?
I send the text and then feel incredibly silly. Of course, she's alive. She's just in love with a very wealthy and successful man, who for some reason, demands that she keep their relationship private. I have a bad feeling though about the whole business.
On Wednesday, I go to my grandpa’s pub and have a beer with him. We sit at the old bar with polished brass fixtures and reminisce about the past.
“I’m really worried about Sherri and was wondering if you could do some sleuthing for me about her latest boyfriend,” I say and make a face, feeling guilty for even asking him.
“She still seeing Mr. Wall Street?” Gramps asks, his expression neutral, but his warm brown eyes are concerned.
“Yes.”
He purses his lips. “I remembered you mentioned him a couple of weeks ago.”
“Yes, but she’s been really secretive, and we’ve hardly spoken. Only texted. She has exams, and well, I feel like she’s been kidnapped or something. Invasion of the Body Snatchers.”
Gramps takes a sip of his beer and considers, nodding. “I could speak to the boys up in Midtown. That’s where he lives, right?”
“Yes, right across from Central Park near the zoo.”
“Leave it to me,” he says and pats my arm. “I’ve got some friends who know the players really well. I’ll get their take on Mr. Wall Street. See what I can find out.”
“Thanks, Gramps. I’m really worried about her. It’s not like her to be so quiet. You know Sherri. She could talk the ear off an elephant.”
“I do know Sherri. I remember a few sleepovers you two had at our place. Blab blab blab if I recall correctly.”
I nod. “Yes. I know that when you get a serious relationship, it takes precedence, but she could have texted me dozens of times during the week, but she didn’t. I don’t get it. She isn’t with him all that time.”
“I understand,” Gramps says. “Why don’t you invite Michelle to our place on Saturday night for dinner? I’ll make your favorite. Corned beef and cabbage. How does that sound?”
I laugh because my Gramps knows me so well.
“Deal. We’ll be there Saturday night.”
I go home that night, feeling somewhat better than Gramps will call his friends in the Midtown Precinct to learn if there is anything to worry about with Mr. Wall Street, as Gramps calls him.
Inviting Michelle for dinner on Saturday will make the weekend less lonely for me. I love my Gramp’s corned beef and cabbage. My grandma knew so many recipes from the Depression Era and cooked them all for us kids while we were growing up. When she died, he took up the apron and tried his best to cook them fours. While families in the depression thought they were money-saving meals, I think they’re the best.
On Friday,I send Sherri a text, even though I don’t expect her to reply.
NATALIA: Have fun, kiddo. If you can spare a moment, text me so I know you’re okay. You’re running with a fast crowd.We really don’t know anything about them. Just be safe, okay? I worry about you.
I don’t hear back from her right away, but I expected that. I figure she’ll text me when she gets home. She probably doesn’t want to look like she's gossiping about her time at the beach house.
SHERRI: We’re not at the beach house. We’re on — get this — a HUGE YACHT worth tens of millions of dollars. Will talk later.
NATALIA: Okay. Have fun! See you this week.
And that’s it. We don’t hear from her for the rest of the weekend.
Instead, Michelle comes to our place on Saturday and has corned beef and cabbage, then we sit on the patio and watch the stars rise over the city. I keep checking my cell in case Sherri texts me, but of course there’s nothing.
