I grabbed my phone, expecting messages from Jiro, but there were none. Worse—he hadn’t even read the ones I’d sent. Odd. Maybe that was a good sign. Maybe things were going smoothly with his father and he was too caught up to check his phone.
I sent another text, asking him to call when he could. If he was spending the night there, I’d tell Miki to stay.
Miki stirred, stretching. “What time is it?” she mumbled.
“Seven fifteen.”
She stiffened. “Really?”
“Day drinking will do that.”
She sat up, eyes still closed.
“You can stay here,” I said. “I don’t think Jiro’s coming back tonight.”
“Why?”
“He hasn’t answered any of my messages.”
Miki looked at me. “Is that normal?”
“No. But I figured things were going well with his father.”
“Or terrible.” Miki climbed out of bed and made her way to the bathroom.
I headed to the kitchen to make tea. When I returned, she was sitting on the sofa in the dark, lit by the glow of the television, sound turned low. I handed her a cup.
“Thanks,” she said, taking a sip. “You look worried.”
“Well, yeah. It’s a big deal for him to go there. I thought he’d at least send one message letting me know how it went. None of mine were even read.”
“That changes things.”
“What do you mean?”
“Who goes an entire day without checking their phone?” Miki cupped her mug for warmth.
“I mean, Jiro’s not one of those people who is always glued to his, but he’d check once, right?”
“Call him. Make him answer.”
She was right. I called. It rang forever.
“Maybe his battery died,” Miki said.
“Maybe.” But I’d seen him pack his charger, so…
As the hours crept ahead and the silence from Jiro stretched, my worry turned into dread. Even Miki stopped trying to spin it.
“He’s responsible,” she said. “He runs a restaurant. He doesn’t just disappear.”
“What do I do? I’ve texted a zillion times and called him, what, four times?”
“Do you have his parents’ number?”
“I don’t.”
“Okay, well… let’s not panic yet. Let’s assume he’s still there and spending the night.”
