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Someone else is here with me.
NINA
The restaurant where Lily and I meet is one of my favorites. It has a rustic farmhouse feel to it, while still being modern at the same time. The decor is all black-and-white and wooden, with things like white shiplap walls; wide, wooden floorboards; painted, black exposed pipes that run along the ceiling. The fabric of the chairs and booths is all black-and-white, in geometric designs. It’s visually pleasing and the food is divine. A line of people wait for a table, but Lily was smart. She thought ahead. She made a reservation so that we’re able to skip the line, much to the chagrin of those who see us come in and get immediately seated.
“Thank you for suggesting this,” I say to Lily as we settle into a small table, sitting across from each other. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”
“Yes. Of course. I wanted to talk to you, just to make sure you’re hanging in there and that you’re okay. It’s so hard to talk at work, when we’re always in a rush or getting interrupted.”
I put my bag on the floor beneath me and say, “I’m sure this comes as no surprise, but Jake still hasn’t come home.”
Lily sighs, sympathetic as she reaches across the table to set her hand on mine. “I’m so sorry, Nina. Have you heard anything from him?” she asks.
“Nothing,” I say. “I spoke to his colleagues the other day and drove around looking for his car at both the hospital and his office. I don’t know where he is, Lily. It’s like he’s just completely gone.”
“I wish you would have told me you were going to Jake’s office and the hospital,” Lily says. “I would have gone with you, to keep you company at least, or to help you look for him.”
“That’s sweet of you.”
“I can’t imagine how hard this must be, Nina.” Lily offers a commiserative smile. She is a good listener. She’s always been. It’s one of the reasons I find it so easy to talk to her. Lily’s secret, I think, is that she actually listens. She doesn’t offer advice like other people feel the need to do. People always want to fix things. They want to make them better, which is sweet and well-intentioned, but not everything can be fixed. Sometimes a person just wants to find an outlet for their feelings.
“It is. You don’t even know. I can’t sleep. I can’t think. All day and all night I think about him, wondering where he is and if he’s okay, if he’s dead or hurt or if he’s just intentionally avoiding me. I don’t even know what would be better,” I admit, “if he’s hurt or if he’s avoiding me, because if he’s hurt then at least maybe he doesn’t hate me.”
“I’m sure he doesn’t hate you,” Lily says.
The waitress appears and asks if we’re ready to order. Lily asks for toast and scrambled eggs and I get an omelet. We order coffee. Lily asks for decaf.
When the waitress leaves, Lily says, “Have you heard anything more from the police?”
“I went back to the police station last night. They had told me when I filed the missing person’s report that most people come home on their own within three days. It’s now been five.”
“Do they have any leads?” she asks.
“Not yet.”
“Have they tried tracing his phone?”
Last night, I asked the police the same question. Phones can be traceable. But, from what the police told me, it can be hard to find a phone if the battery doesn’t retain some of the charge. Even if Jake’s phone isn’t somehow dead—which I’m sure it is—the carrier can ping the phone, asking it to reply with its location but still, the results are imprecise. They can track a phone to a broad area, but not a specific location.
But that doesn’t matter, because Jake isn’t a minor, he isn’t high-risk and he isn’t on my phone plan. The cell phone carrier won’t perform a warrantless search, and only now have the police issued a warrant. They were reluctant to do so because it’s not a crime to disappear, though, now that so many days have passed and Jake hasn’t once accessed our bank accounts, gone to work or spoken to anyone, the police have started taking his disappearance more seriously.
I say, “They’re working on that now. But every time I call Jake’s phone it goes to voice mail, which tells me it’s dead. I don’t think the police will ever find him that way.”
“I’m so sorry,” Lily says as the waitress drops off our coffees with a little bowl of cream and a sugar dispenser. I reach for my cup, emptying cream and sugar into it.
“I know you are. I keep wondering if something has happened to Jake or if Jake just doesn’t want to be found. He’d been so different lately, Lily. He was stressed at work, and distant with me. We’d been fighting for a while before this happened.”
“Why was he distant?” she asks.
“Because of my mother, I think. Because I’ve been spending so much time with her and not enough with him. He didn’t like that.”
“But your mother needs you,” Lily says, and I’m glad that she at least understands.
“I know. I tried to make him see that it was all beyond my control. I’ve felt torn, like I can’t be in two places at one time.”
“Have you talked to anyone else about Jake? Family or friends?”
“I’ve called his parents, his brother and some friends, but honestly, Lily, I don’t know what else to do. I feel helpless. Jake has to be somewhere. I feel like someone, somewhere has to know where he is.”
