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English Through Stories, Missing Person - Episode 6: Kathy (Again)

I drove Bill and Anne back to Sarah and Bill's apartment building to drop them both off there. Anne had left her car there, so she could drive herself home. I told them to call me if anything new came up.

“Thanks for your help today, Dr. Reeves.” Anne said. “I know you'll help us find my sister.” She gave me a big, long hug. I didn't linger there with Anne, as much as I wanted to reassure her that things would work out. I needed to talk to an old friend, Kathy Chang, about what happened today. We were supposed to have dinner at 5:30 p.m. at her apartment, and it was already 5:20. Kathy hates it when I'm late. I drove to Kathy's apartment and I snagged a parking spot in front of her building. It was 5:45 p.m. and I was late. I knocked on the door, and Kathy let me in.

“You're late, Darren--as usual,” Kathy said. I knew I was late, but Kathy and I have known each other for many years. I didn't want to hear about all of the other times I was late, so I changed the subject. “I'm glad to see you, too, Kathy. What are we having for dinner?” “Dinner? You come late and now you want dinner?” she replied. “How much are you willing to pay me?” She had one of her inviting smiles on her face.

“All I have is yours,” I said jokingly. I think I broke the ice with that one.

Kathy and I stopped dating over a year ago, but she still likes to pretend that we're going out. I meet her every week for dinner, and I play along with the joke. Deep down, though, I think she's still in love with me. I admit I have feelings for her as well. But life keeps interfering… “Okay, time for dinner. Let's dig in.” Kathy quickly brushed her long hair back from her face, got up, and went into the kitchen. Kathy was a reporter for Los Angeles' biggest television station. She was both very smart and very beautiful. I first met her at a conference in Hawaii about six years ago. She was now my best friend in Los Angeles. One more thing about Kathy: she is a great cook.

“Let's eat, big guy,” she said. And so we did.

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I drove Bill and Anne back to Sarah and Bill's apartment building to drop them both off there. Anne had left her car there, so she could drive herself home. I told them to call me if anything new came up.

“Thanks for your help today, Dr. Reeves.” Anne said. “I know you'll help us find my sister.” She gave me a big, long hug.

I didn't linger there with Anne, as much as I wanted to reassure her that things would work out. I needed to talk to an old friend, Kathy Chang, about what happened today. We were supposed to have dinner at 5:30 p.m. at her apartment, and it was already 5:20. Kathy hates it when I'm late.

I drove to Kathy's apartment and I snagged a parking spot in front of her building. It was 5:45 p.m. and I was late. I knocked on the door, and Kathy let me in.

“You're late, Darren--as usual,” Kathy said.

I knew I was late, but Kathy and I have known each other for many years. I didn't want to hear about all of the other times I was late, so I changed the subject. “I'm glad to see you, too, Kathy. What are we having for dinner?”

“Dinner? You come late and now you want dinner?” she replied. “How much are you willing to pay me?” She had one of her inviting smiles on her face.

“All I have is yours,” I said jokingly. I think I broke the ice with that one.

Kathy and I stopped dating over a year ago, but she still likes to pretend that we're going out. I meet her every week for dinner, and I play along with the joke. Deep down, though, I think she's still in love with me. I admit I have feelings for her as well. But life keeps interfering…
“Okay, time for dinner. Let's dig in.” Kathy quickly brushed her long hair back from her face, got up, and went into the kitchen.

Kathy was a reporter for Los Angeles' biggest television station. She was both very smart and very beautiful. I first met her at a conference in Hawaii about six years ago. She was now my best friend in Los Angeles. One more thing about Kathy: she is a great cook.

“Let's eat, big guy,” she said. And so we did.