A local woman missing- Mary Kubica

dancing has made him thirsty. Our desire has morphed into
something giddy, impetuous. We giggle at one another over our
glasses.
“Should we ask for the check?” Josh mischievously asks.
“We haven’t gotten our food.”
“We could always get fast food, if you’re hungry.”
If we go home, there will be a babysitter and a dog waiting for us.
There will be kids to be quiet for. But Josh and I aren’t above taking
the car somewhere remote.
I grin back. “Let’s go.” I want more than ever to be alone with Josh.
Josh’s eyes go roving around the rooftop for our waiter.
“Hey, neighbor.” The voice is singsong when it comes. We look
and see Kate sitting at the table beside us, her smile a mile wide.
Kate and Bea are here, getting situated in their seats where the host
has just sat them.
“What are the odds?” Bea asks, reaching for her menu and having
a look.
Just then our food arrives, the waiter skirting around glasses and
silverware to deliver it.
Josh and I exchange a disenchanted glance. We can no longer
leave.
At Josh’s suggestion, we slide Kate and Bea’s table closer to ours,
make it a table for four instead of two for two. It dampens the mood.
It doesn’t kill it. The pining I feel will still be here an hour from now.
Drinks arrive for Kate and Bea. Kate offers up a toast. “For Bea.”
It’s Bea’s birthday. Today Bea is thirty years old. They came to
celebrate. Glasses rise up above the tabletop. Someone clinks too
hard, and sticky liquid spills over the edge of a glass and onto our
hands. Laughter ensues. Kate scrambles for napkins, apologizing.
Bea asks, “What are you doing out on a Thursday night?”
Josh makes eyes at me. “Do I really need a reason to spend a
night with my beautiful wife?”
The food is plentiful. The portions are large. I eat it all because the
alcohol has made me famished. Food is delivered for Bea and Kate.
More drinks, a round on Josh and me for Bea’s birthday. Someone
on the rooftop catches wind of Bea’s birthday and then everyone is
singing happy birthday to Bea. It’s cacophonous. It’s not pretty. Bea