Page 70 of Coincidentally Kismet

Slipping into the booth that Rhonda directed me to feels a little different than last time. It’s not the bar, and I’m not nearly close enough to the jukebox, but it’ll do. My preference would have been the bar because it adds to the old-school diner vibe, but it’s not conducive to making date conversation.

The view of the clientele from here is also different from last time. I can’t see the tables on the other side, but the ones closest to me consist of far more families. There are kids chatting away about new toys they hope to get while running errands, a few fighting with their siblings, and the most adorable little girl practically covered from head to toe in melted ice cream. I feel for her mother, but also can’t help smiling at her precious and plump little fingers smearing chocolate in places it shouldn’t be.

Seeing these families makes me wonder if Will still wants kids. I do, though not for a while. I’m too focused on building my career right now, but one day. Picturing Will with a chubby little baby squirming and squealing with laughter makes my uterus hurt. I need to stop thinking about it, or my timeline might move up. Seriously, I can almost feel my eggs dropping, ready to rock.

Rhonda, again adorned in her vintage waitress dress, saddles up to the table.

“Can I get you anything while you wait, toots?”

“Coffee would be great. He should be here soon, we said twelve thirty and he’s never late for anything.”

“Coffee it is, sweetheart, but I hate to break it to you. It’s already twelve forty-five,” she says, pity written all over her face.

“Wait, really?” I ask, grabbing for my phone, which I’d stuffed in my purse on the way in the door. I guess I spaced out people watching a little longer than I realized.

She nods and walks off to get my coffee, leaving me with my own frantic attempts at opening my lock screen.

No texts, no missed calls from Will, only one unknown number—probably a telemarketer. What if something happened? I sent him a message to tell him I was on my way, but I hadn’t checked for a reply.

Hitting send on his number, I listen for the usual ring but instead it goes straight to voicemail. Shit! When I left this morning, I kissed him goodbye as he was half asleep and crept out. I start running through all the possible scenarios in my head. Could he have forgotten? Was he in an accident?

He couldn’t have gotten called up for work. I can’t imagine after everything we’ve been working to rebuild that he would have left without saying goodbye. He knew where I was and didn’t call, so it can’t be that.

I hit send again, just in case his phone was being weird during the first call. Voicemail again!

Okay, breathe, Cam. Everything is going to be fine.We had a perfect night. He isn’t standing me up, maybe he took a nap, or his phone died.

No, it was on the charger all night. What is with this diner and bad luck? I need to get out of here. I need to think clearly and not be irrational.

Tossing a ten on the table, I grab my stuff in a hurry and rush to my car. Settling into the seat, I scoot my chair back and makeroom. I can’t leave in case he shows up, but I can lie back and get comfortable. Maybe Lo is with Smith. They could check on him.

Scrolling to Lo’s contact, I hit send. It rings three times and she answers. Finally! Someone answered.

“H-hi. Where are you?” She’s sobbing.

“What’s going on? Why are you crying?” I ask quickly.

“Why aren’t you?” she replies, puzzled.

“What? Why would I be crying? What happened?”

“What do you mean what happened? You don’t know? Oh Jesus, God, what in the actual fuck?” Pity and pain, thick in her voice.

“Lo! No, I don’t know what happened. Can you tell me, please? I’m sitting at Patty’s waiting for Will, but he’s late for our lunch date.”

“He didn’t tell you? Oh no...no, no, no, no. This is not happening.”

“Lorraine, dammit! What is not happening?” She better start talking quickly.

“They’re gone. They got the call this morning. Smith ran outta here in a hurry, said some shit was going down and he’d contact me when he could. He gave me a few kisses, a long squeeze, and just left.”

“Wait, no. That can’t be right. Will wouldn’t leave without telling me. Why would he do that when we have been working so hard to rekindle everything? He said I could trust him this time.”

“Honey...they left. Smith only had an hour to report. He called Butler while putting his pants on and ran like his ass was on fire. Maybe Will didn’t have time?” She’s trying and failing to rationalize his behavior, and it’s making it worse.

“Seriously, Lo? He didn’t have time while driving to base to pick up the fucking phone and say goodbye?” There’s no world in which that man couldn’t have called me for a minute or two.

“I know it looks bad, but maybe there’s more to the story. I know he loves you, Cam. Come home and we can figure it out together.” Lo’s trying to sound reassuring, but the hesitation in her voice is evident.

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