Page 116 of If Looks Could Kill
Tabitha—Missing Each Other(Monday, December 3, 1888)
I had just enough time between seeing Mike through the window and his entering and making his way to my table to have a small heart attack. After last night, were we two people who now greeted each other… with a kiss? A kiss on the cheek? A hug? An awkward bashfulness that didn’t even know how to make eye contact?
I opted for the latter.
“There you are,” he told me.
I acknowledged that I was, in fact, here. “How did you find me?”
But he’d taken a closer look at my face. “What happened?” he said, pointing to my cheek. “Who did this to you?”
Oh, dear. “Miss Stella,” I confessed. “She’s… not well.”
Mike shook his head. “I knew you’d go there. I hoped you wouldn’t go alone.”
I nodded miserably. “I won’t make that mistake again.” I managed a smile. “I’ll look like me in a day or two. How was your day?”
Mike’s eyebrows rose. “I spent it combing the city for a missing Salvation Army girl.”
“What a coincidence,” I told him. “Me too.”
He pulled a face.
“I told your aunt to tell you I’d be back in the afternoon,” I pointed out.
“And then you went out into a city trying to kill you,” he said. “I looked anywhere I could think of that you might be. Lafayette Place, though I didn’t dare knock on Miss Stella’s door. Steve Brodie’s. Finally, I checked your tenement. From there, I just followed my nose to the bakery.”
“We must’ve been missing each other all afternoon.”
“I’m pleased to hear it.”
It took me a moment for his double meaning to sink in.
“No,” I said quickly. “I meant that we’vemissedeach other. That is, when I was somewhere, you were somewhere else.”
“Yes,” he agreed, with a twinkle in his eye. “I’ve missed you all afternoon.”
My face must’ve been fuchsia. I was desperate to change the subject.
“You never told me you had a test,” I said. “I didn’t even know you were taking classes.”
He looked slightly abashed. “We had a few other things to think about last night,” he said. “My algebra class hardly seemed like one of them.”
“How did the test go?”
He laughed drily. “Not my best performance,” he admitted. “But I’ll survive.”
“I want to hear about your classes,” I told him. “Where you study. What your plans are.” I remembered my breakfast conversation. “Your aunt Mag praises your ambition to the skies.” I smiled. “You come from good people.”
“Good Irish people.” Half joking, half confessing. I found it odd but let it pass.
“Your aunt is smitten,” I told him. “Couldn’t be prouder if you were her own son.”
Mike’s lips were especially interesting when they were trying not tosmile. “She’s a kind soul,” he said. “She’s been a mother and more to me.” He grew serious. “What happens now?”
“I still need to find Pearl,” I said, “but I’ve tried everything I can think of.”
“So…?”
