He was … someone she didn’t know. A small man. An old man, maybe. In a bathrobe.

The woman looked like she had seen a ghost.

“Oh—wait—I’m sorry—you’re not— I’m … I’m so sorry,” she said, laughing a strange laugh. “Um … does Daniel Harding live here? I’m looking for Daniel Harding.”

The small man seemed surprised and deliberately asked, “You’re looking—?”

The woman finished his sentence to save time. She was very efficient. “Looking for Daniel Harding, yeah. He lives here. I thought.”

The man stared blankly at the woman. He looked quite confused. Which made sense. He probably hadn’t expected someone to be coming to his door at a little before nine on a Friday night in the middle of winter.

And he certainly wasn’t expecting someone like this woman, in her high heels and fancy coat with its large fur-lined hood.

Then the woman realized that she was so sure that Daniel Harding—the man that she was looking for—was going to be there, that she hadn’t even considered the fact that he might not be there. And she started to sweat. Even though she was cold. Because she was realizing that the man she had come to see no longer lived where he used to live. And she was completely shocked that he wasn’t there. “Oh, no!” she gasped. “He doesn’t live here, does he?”

Before the man could answer, the woman was talking again. “Oh, my God, I am so sorry!” She was frowning and smiling alternately. And sometimes laughing even though she felt like she was going to throw up.

He wasn’t there.

Oh, God.

He wasn’t there.

How could this be?

The woman turned away from the man and put her head in her hands. So she didn’t see him pull the main door to his house closed behind him—which he did to keep the heat in and the cold out. And also so that no one inside would come out and wonder what was going on outside.

“Argh, I am so embarrassed!” said the woman in a voice that made her sound a little like a chicken. She turned back to the man and asked—as if she was giving voice to his thoughts—“Who is this woman and what is she doing here, right?”

And she laughed and then suddenly stopped laughing and almost cried, but then collected herself and said in all seriousness, “I’m sorry. I just honestly thought he’d be here. I always thought he’d be here. Always.”

Then she took a few steps back so she could get a better view of the house—so she could make sure she was in the right place. And she was. She knew she was. “This is the house,” she said to herself.

And then she looked at the man and was about to apologize for disturbing him when she had the strangest feeling that he might be able to help her somehow. And she took a step toward him and asked, “Do you know him?”