My best friend Marcie said she was going to see her mom in another state, but then a week went by and she didn’t come back. Then another week and still no Marcie. She also wasn’t answering her phone and when I called her sister to see what was happening, she expressed concern but didn’t have a clue what to do. I finally managed to get her to admit that she did, in fact, know that Marcie hadn’t gone to see her mom but rather had agreed to meet a man she’d met online. I knew immediately why Marcie hadn’t told me what she was doing. I would have insisted that she not go.

“What city?” I yelled into the phone. Marcie’s sister finally mumbled Dallas. I was shocked that she hadn’t called the police. She said that Marcie was an adult, after all, and if she wanted to run off with some man, it was her right to do so. I said, “Yes, as long as she’s safe, but do you know for a fact that she’s safe?” Her sister’s response was wishy-washy at best. “Well, she hasn’t called for help.” I wanted to scream. “Yes, well, maybe she can’t call, have you thought of that?”

I phoned the Dallas Police Department who said they’d be happy to help as soon as I had a name, an address, and perhaps a little bit of information suggesting that this grown-up woman wasn’t off in the Caribbean on a honeymoon with her new husband. I was so frustrated. Didn’t anyone understand that my friend, Marcie, was not anyone who would drop off the face of the earth? She had two grown kids, for God’s sake, who had also not heard from her and who were also worried.

Finally, I decided I needed to take action. I went through every text Marcie and I had shared, specifically about this guy she had met online who she was excited about. Finally, I found his name Josh Threadgill (or at least that was the name he told her) and I looked him up online. He was one of those guys on Facebook who had four friends and had written, “Love for you to answer, beautiful lady.” on Marcie’s Facebook page. How was I ever going to find this guy with that little tiny bit of information and no access to Marcie’s phone or computer?

I finally went over to Marcie’s house (I have a key) and looked through the notes on her desk. There was a scribbled Southwest flight number to Dallas on September 20^th, two weeks before. She was arriving at Love Field Airport and she had also written down the name Budget Rental Car. I called Budget and asked if the car Marcie Dickson had rented had been returned. The young woman on the other end of the phone hesitantly said it had been renewed but not turned in. “Is there an address saying where Marcie was going?” I asked. The woman said, “Only McKinney, Texas, but no address.”

I looked up Josh Threadgill in McKinney, Texas, and was surprised to see there was an address for a man with that name living there. I decided I was going to have to risk it and go there. This was my best friend we were talking about, after all.

I booked a flight, rented my own car, then hurried to the airport. I knew time was critical if Marcie was in trouble. I could not wait.

Navigating through Dallas and then out thirty miles north was not that easy, but I finally was sitting a few houses down from the address of Josh Threadgill. I didn’t quite know what to do at this point though I had been racking my brain to come up with a strategy. I got out of the car and walked up to the house, peering through the windows. I saw a young man and woman sitting in the living room with a baby in the woman’s arms. My heart sank. This couldn’t be the right place. Still, I’d come so far.

I walked up to the door and knocked. The young man answered and I explained the reason for my visit. As I described Marcie, his eyes widened. He looked distressed, then said, “Just give me a minute,” and closed the door. I stood outside shivering as I watched the street lamps come on.

A few minutes later, the young man opened the door. He was now wearing his jacket and his wife and baby were right there too. “Follow us, please. We’ll take you to your friend.”

I ran back and got into my car. They drove out of their driveway and I followed them down one street and then up the next, finally ending at the parking lot of a local hospital. We all got out of our cars, and the young man and his family beckoned me to follow them inside. Once there, we headed to a ward and then after a short knock on a hospital room door, the young man led us all in. There was an older man in bed with machines humming all around and an IV drip in his arm. Marcie sat slumped in a nearby chair, clearly dosing.

“Marcie?” I said, and my friend opened her eyes. “What in the world, honey? What’s happening here?”

Marcie looked surprised to see me and also more tired than I’d ever seen her. “Oh, Lydia, you didn’t have to come but I understand why you did. Thank you for caring about me so much!”

She then patted the arm of the man sleeping in the hospital bed. He opened drowsy eyes and Marcie said, “Josh, this is Lydia, my best friend I’ve told you so much about.” He nodded and smiled, then drifted back off to sleep.

I shook my head, “Marcie, what’s going on?”

“Josh is an old high school friend of mine. We reunited on Facebook and got really close, really fast. That’s when he suggested I come to see him before he died. I have been here ever since. It won’t be long now, I’m afraid.”

I reached over and squeezed her hand. “Oh, honey. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“We both know what a worry-wart you are. I was sure you’d talk me out of coming, claiming he was probably lying about his health.”

My cheeks grew hot and I felt a stab of shame. That was exactly what I would have done. “Oh, Marcie, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me for turning into such a jaded human being.”

“It’s okay. I know you love me and that means more than I can say. And for you to track me down like this is truly impressive.”

The young man and his wife both leaned over and kissed Josh before heading back out of the door. They smiled at me as they passed.

Marcie sank back down in her chair. “Mind if I get just a little more sleep? Please wake me if his breathing slows down. I promised I’d be here to say goodbye.”

“You can bet on it,” I said. “I’m not going anywhere.”