Now I don't consider myself to be the possessive, "jealous boyfriend," which I suppose is debatable. But when the person you love, who you spend most of your life with--who you live with not to mention--goes missing for 8 hours on christmas eve, even the most sensible lover is bound to worry.
5:30pm - Text message from Emily saying [paraphrasing] "getting a bite and a drink, be home in an hour-ish." Of course my first response to this in retrospect is thats one hell of an ISH. From my understanding, an ish is give or take 10-15 minutes? For Emily, the irresponsible narcoleptic, drunken chatterbox, one must give or take (usually give) 90. So I'm thinking she'll stumble in, Dave presents a-many, perhaps 8? 9?
10:00 - Call to Emily's phone: Pointless. No answer.
10:30 - Text to Emily's phone: "Where the fuck are you? You were supposed to be home hours ago?"
I know what you're thinking; that sounds an awful lot like a possessive boyfriend to me. But it's Christmas Eve for God's sake! Have some f-ing heart! Come home to your loving boyfriend, or at least your cattle dog.
11:00 - Several more sporadic, desperate calls to Emily's phone, all ignored. "ANSWER YOUR FUCKING PHONE! ITS CHRISTMAS EVE! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU! WHATS THE POINT OF HAVING THAT FUCKING THING IN THE FIRST PLACE?!" [again, paraphrasing]
11:20 - At this point, the anger of whatever betrayal, distrust, lying, carelessness (take your pick) etc. has subsided and is replaced simultaneously with fear and/or paranoia.
Full of nervous energy, I'm up from my pissed-post on the couch and I'm pacing nervously around the first floor: Where could she be? Why on earth would she stay out so late? Did she get arrested? DUI? Was she in an accident? or . . . Is she -- no, she wouldn't. Could she be with another man? I pictured her, in that drunken chatterbox way of hers, falling all over some male friend, getting drunker and drunker, laughing and having such an incredibly sophisticated and fascinating conversation with this intellectual-type male who's vastly superior brain delivers quip after side-splitting quip--all the while, completely forgetting about her loving dope of a boyfriend at home.
11:22 - I hit the road like a father hits his sassy step-child.
I head to King of Prussia, the shopping hub of the tri-state area, which by this time is dark and deserted. All that remains is the skittering debris of a frantic day of last minute christmas shopping; a starbucks cup rolling in the Lord and Taylor parking lot; a shopping cart lazily coasting through another; a lost boy wandering near the Best Buy entrance who, through incapacitating shivers, asks me if I've seen Santa Claus. "Sorry kid, I've got my own fish to fry! I've got a missing person too! Good luck though!" I holler from my car window. But no such luck for me here.
12:00 - Next, I proceed to Emily and her friend's only known hangout; a bar on Lancaster Ave. in Bryn Mawr. The streets are eerily empty as I travel through the mainline. Keeping a careful eye out for Santa's sleigh, I illegally park on the sidewalk and jog towards the entrance of "The Grog." I stare down just about every face in the neighborhood bar, then leave. Fuck, I don't know where else to look. She could be anywhere! The city, to Delaware, home of tax-free shopping--anywhere! Suddenly, the theme song of "Carmen San Diego" crams it's way into my already very crowded head.
In all seriousness, I was really starting to lose it at this point. My heart was racing, I had to tell myself to calm down and take deep "belly" breaths, as a full-blown panic attack was imminent. I was down-right afraid of where Emily could be or what might have happened to her.
1:00 - This is when the real hoping and praying began. There was only one thing left to do: Go home, and if she's not there, call the police. Needless to say, the entire drive home, stuck behind a slow-moving Buick, I'm repenting all of the sins of this past year. Oh Santa, all knowing Santa, I'm sure your team of surveillance elves saw me stealing those Post-It notes from work, or making fun of that man's FUPA, but please, please, find a way to take me off your naughty list and bring Emily home for Christmas.
Unlike most people's stream of conscious dialogue, my thoughts occur more like a broken jukebox whose record collection consists mostly of commercial jingles and pathetically hokey theme music, because at this point, the record has switched from Carmen San Diego to All I Want for Christmas is You and then immediately to I'l Be Home for Christmas.
1:20 - She's not home. I hyperventilate. Am I being punished? Is this a test? Speaking of pathetically hokey, this is the part that, like many after school specials, I really begin to realize and appreciate the simple, yet crucial everyday things like just being able to laze on the couch with the Schmemers or cook dinner. I think of what a terribly lonely Christmas it will be without her. I think of her--possibly in a holding cell somewhere, God forbid, a hospital bed or trapped in the twisted, burning frame of her VW Golf in a ravine or some rarely traveled back road. I thought of all of this and I began drinking.
1:30 - For fear of losing my sanity, I call my good friend Tony. Remember, at this point, I still have had no contact with Emily or her shopping accomplice Brandy. I don't have Brandy's number, nor do I know anyone who might have it. Tony, whose brain is not clouded by hysteria and multiple glasses of boxed-wine makes an incredibly sensible, yet simple suggestion of looking for an address book or the such to find Brandy's number.
1:35 - Call to Brandy's phone. (I guess there is no need to mention that I try several times with no answer, both calls and texts, so I leave a voice message.) "Brandy, this is Emily's boyfriend, Dave. Emily has been missing . . . If I don't hear from you or Emily soon, I have no choice but to call the police." [something to that affect]
1:40 - To ensure my Emily doesn't get in trouble if she doesn't absolutely have to, I decide that as a very last resort, I'll drive down to Brandy's house (40 mins. away) and if she's not there, then we're calling the police. "We" at this point, is Tony, whom I recruit after his own offer, to come with me.
1:42 - I walk next door to Bobby's place. Miraculously, after knocking once, he comes to the door. I explain the situation and give him my number. I tell him to call me if he sees so much as a bird shit on our house while I'm gone.
1:50 - Tony is on his way over, so I go stand by my car, hastily awaiting him.
1:52 - My phone rings--its Emily. Half expecting a police officer on the other end, my apprehension turns to total rage when I hear her voice.
"I'm sorry babe, I fell asleep at Brandy's."
I'm speechless . . . and I tell her so. After all the mean things I screamed to my imaginary passenger while making u-turn after dangerous, high-speed u-turn in vacant parking lots and to the dog after every un-answered phone call to Emily and her selfish, careless friend, I couldn't think of a single thing other than "I was about to call the police Emily! You realize I was just about to dial them now?!?!"
She began to explain, but I would have none of it, I hung up and called Tony.
I could imagine the sight: 2am on Christmas Eve, and Dave, completely helpless, hopeless and cold, leans against his car, fresh out of answers and wits. How foolish I must have looked, how sad. More importantly though, how concerned I must have looked and that makes up for the rest; for all the indifference I must normally project; the gobbling; the complaining; the entitlement. At that point, the frantic, paranoia that wafted from me must have been obvious from miles away. I'm glad. And when they, whoever it was that might have been watching--Santa Claus?--heard me answer the phone, "You realize I was about to call the police!" they knew what a true loving boyfriend I am.
I couldn't stay mad for long on Christmas, and after much guilt, both creating some for Emily and some of my own, I thanked Santa or whoever you are for bringing my Emily home to me and reminding me that Christmas really isn't about iPods or Applebee's gift cards, its about a warm embrace from someone you hadn't realized how much you really love.
