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The Missing
2004-06-21 - 12:34 a.m.

Feeling: frustrated
Listening to: nothing
Reading/Watching: War of the Twins

I am in Hometown to drop off Luna for repairs and swap out cars with my mom for the week.

In the midst of good-natured ribbing to Mom about forgetting to buy Bear a birthday card, I realized aloud, "Hey, you never sent me a card."

"Of course we did, we wouldn't forget something like that."

"No, you didn't, I would've remembered that. I have all the birthday cards I received sitting on my desk. One from Grandma, one from Uncle Jim, and one from Bri."

"Well Dad put one in the mail, I'm sure of it, and come to think of it, I think it had a check for a gift in there, too. That hasn't arrived yet?"

I suddenly got a cold feeling in my stomach. "Um, no, it hasn't."

I asked my father, and in the ensuing discussion, he told me he'd left the card with the check on the picnic table at the big family party we had the day before my birthday, the one in the park in Sistertown, when mon coeur met my family and we went swimming in our clothes in the river.

I said I'd seen no such card, and he said of course I did, I had to have it somewhere (which, if you knew him, wouldn't seem so preposterous- he really is that stubborn). I insisted that no, if I had a birthday card with money in it, I would remember, because money is happy and makes Katie's day, but no, he says, surely I'm mistaken because there's no other possible explanation at all ever. I need to look again. I need to go back and look all around and make sure I didn't go, "Whoops, I think I'll drop this unopened envelope in a random place so I can dig it out in a month."

He also did that with a car-repair estimate I left in Houston, insisting that I brought it with me and that I just needed to look for it harder. I'm tempted to ask him whether he honestly thinks I'm that senile at twenty-two, to bring home important papers and promptly hide them from myself (hide them so well in my tiny apartment that I can't find them after a week of searching). But I don't say that, naturally. It's too clever, and would start an argument, and my voice isn't loud enough to win an actual argument.

I'm getting rather tired of being informed of what I do and do not have in my possession. Especially when it concerns things that I would be extremely happy to have in my possession.

But anyway, on to happier thoughts. Thirty minutes ago, it became Bear's birthday. Happy 24th Birthday, Sister Bear (doode, that's nearly a quarter of a century. You're, like, almost kinda *old* and stuff).

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