Missed Connections Read Online Free
each other, or in any way being demonstrative or affectionate. Still, Connor was pretty sure that must be Patrick. Connor stared, willing Paul to turn around and notice him, but the effort failed. Paul never noticed him at all.
Disheartened, Connor returned to his cabin and lay down for a nap. He did not spot Paul at all for the remainder of the week.
*~*~*
The rest of the week passed enjoyably, with no further mishaps and no sign of Paul, and then it was Sunday, time to go home. Connor wondered if Paul—and Patrick—would be on the same ferry again. Would Paul be in the snack bar? Would he look for Connor? Or would Patrick be with him? Perhaps Paul had forgotten about Connor already. Then again, they hadn't ever talked about how long a vacation Paul and Patrick were taking. Maybe they were staying for two weeks. He might not be on the same boat at all.
The fog seemed thicker than ever as Connor navigated cautiously down to the ferry terminal. At the slip, Connor looked around for a van with a familiar-looking occupant, but he didn't see any sign of Paul. When the gate went up, the cars drove aboard the boat, and Connor took his place among them. The warning bell sounded and Connor knew the ferry was ready to leave the slip. The boat cast off its moorings and began the slow crossing to the other side of Oguncomquit Bay. Connor made his way to the snack bar and looked around for Paul, but he was nowhere to be seen.
Ah well—perhaps it was just as well. Connor knew he still had Paul's business card, but realistically what reason did he have for calling? He headed to the counter, ordered two pizza dogs and an orange soda, then found an empty table, of which there were several this time to choose from.
He had just taken a bite of his first pizza dog when he heard a familiar voice. "Connor! There you are!" Looking up quickly, he saw Paul bounding over to him, his face swathed in a wide smile. Connor looked around but didn't see anyone who seemed to be with him. Connor gestured to a chair, and Paul sat down. "I was hoping I'd run into you!" he enthused, clasping Connor's free hand between both of his. He squeezed tight before letting go and sitting back in his chair to smile at Connor.
Warmth and excitement flooded Connor's body.
"You want one of these pizza dogs?" Connor offered, thrusting one at Paul.
"Don't you want it?"
"I can get another one."
"Let me get up and get one for myself. I want some coffee anyhow." Paul stood up, and Connor returned the pizza dog to his tray. A few minutes later, Paul was back with a pizza dog, a small bag of flavored potato chips, and a cup of coffee.
"So, how was your vacation?" Connor asked.
"Fine. And yours?"
"Except for twisting my ankle in the woods, it was good, and fortunately I got over the injury quickly."
"What happened?" Paul asked. Connor related the story of his hike and mishap.
"You're lucky nothing worse happened!" Paul exclaimed. "You could have broken a leg or something. How would you ever have gotten help?"
"I don't know. It's a scary thought. Fortunately I didn't have to find out."
"Migawd!" Paul exclaimed again, wiping his forehead with his hand.
"Well, I guess it's back to the real world and work tomorrow," Connor said, quickly changing the subject. He didn't want to dwell on the what-ifs of having a broken leg in the middle of the woods with no way to call for help.
Paul sighed heavily. "I guess so," he said.
"I enjoy my job, but I admit I wouldn't mind if the vacation had lasted longer," Connor said. "The island is quiet, as I guess you found out, but quiet can be pleasant too."
"Yes," Paul agreed. "It's kinda relaxing. It's a change from the hustle and bustle of the city."
"Do you think you'll come back next year?" Connor asked. I hope I don't have to wait that long to see you, he mentally added. Besides, what were the odds they'd book for the same week again?
"Who can plan a year ahead?" Paul answered.
Just then there was a tremendous jolt to the
Disheartened, Connor returned to his cabin and lay down for a nap. He did not spot Paul at all for the remainder of the week.
*~*~*
The rest of the week passed enjoyably, with no further mishaps and no sign of Paul, and then it was Sunday, time to go home. Connor wondered if Paul—and Patrick—would be on the same ferry again. Would Paul be in the snack bar? Would he look for Connor? Or would Patrick be with him? Perhaps Paul had forgotten about Connor already. Then again, they hadn't ever talked about how long a vacation Paul and Patrick were taking. Maybe they were staying for two weeks. He might not be on the same boat at all.
The fog seemed thicker than ever as Connor navigated cautiously down to the ferry terminal. At the slip, Connor looked around for a van with a familiar-looking occupant, but he didn't see any sign of Paul. When the gate went up, the cars drove aboard the boat, and Connor took his place among them. The warning bell sounded and Connor knew the ferry was ready to leave the slip. The boat cast off its moorings and began the slow crossing to the other side of Oguncomquit Bay. Connor made his way to the snack bar and looked around for Paul, but he was nowhere to be seen.
Ah well—perhaps it was just as well. Connor knew he still had Paul's business card, but realistically what reason did he have for calling? He headed to the counter, ordered two pizza dogs and an orange soda, then found an empty table, of which there were several this time to choose from.
He had just taken a bite of his first pizza dog when he heard a familiar voice. "Connor! There you are!" Looking up quickly, he saw Paul bounding over to him, his face swathed in a wide smile. Connor looked around but didn't see anyone who seemed to be with him. Connor gestured to a chair, and Paul sat down. "I was hoping I'd run into you!" he enthused, clasping Connor's free hand between both of his. He squeezed tight before letting go and sitting back in his chair to smile at Connor.
Warmth and excitement flooded Connor's body.
"You want one of these pizza dogs?" Connor offered, thrusting one at Paul.
"Don't you want it?"
"I can get another one."
"Let me get up and get one for myself. I want some coffee anyhow." Paul stood up, and Connor returned the pizza dog to his tray. A few minutes later, Paul was back with a pizza dog, a small bag of flavored potato chips, and a cup of coffee.
"So, how was your vacation?" Connor asked.
"Fine. And yours?"
"Except for twisting my ankle in the woods, it was good, and fortunately I got over the injury quickly."
"What happened?" Paul asked. Connor related the story of his hike and mishap.
"You're lucky nothing worse happened!" Paul exclaimed. "You could have broken a leg or something. How would you ever have gotten help?"
"I don't know. It's a scary thought. Fortunately I didn't have to find out."
"Migawd!" Paul exclaimed again, wiping his forehead with his hand.
"Well, I guess it's back to the real world and work tomorrow," Connor said, quickly changing the subject. He didn't want to dwell on the what-ifs of having a broken leg in the middle of the woods with no way to call for help.
Paul sighed heavily. "I guess so," he said.
"I enjoy my job, but I admit I wouldn't mind if the vacation had lasted longer," Connor said. "The island is quiet, as I guess you found out, but quiet can be pleasant too."
"Yes," Paul agreed. "It's kinda relaxing. It's a change from the hustle and bustle of the city."
"Do you think you'll come back next year?" Connor asked. I hope I don't have to wait that long to see you, he mentally added. Besides, what were the odds they'd book for the same week again?
"Who can plan a year ahead?" Paul answered.
Just then there was a tremendous jolt to the
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