My Dream Man

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by Marie Solka


  That was true, though she didn’t come right out and name my profession. More silence followed, then she looked at me, puzzled. “For some reason when I think of your family I see a TV show. I don’t know where that’s coming from.”

  I laughed. “There’s truth to that.”

  This lady was giving me the chills. I wondered for a second if Val or Gen had told Irene about my story but quickly dismissed the idea. They wouldn’t set me up like that.

  She closed her eyes again. “You have a younger relative who looks up to you, and you have a special affinity for the elderly. They like you and you can relate to them even though you’re young.”

  I thought of Mrs. Myszkowski.

  Irene opened her eyes and looked right at me. “You’re going to take a trip with your family. Only the women will go. This journey is life changing. Very important.”

  I had no clue what she was getting at, but I wouldn’t turn down a chance to travel. That was for sure.

  “There is a man you care for. No,” she corrected herself. “You’re in love with him. Thoughts of him dominate your mind.”

  I blushed.

  Irene regarded me. “You want to marry him. I can see you’ve dreamed of it.”

  “Yes,” I admitted.

  Irene exhaled. Then her expression grew serious. “He’s no good for you. Not suitable for marriage,” she said.

  Chapter 12

  When I opened my email Sunday night to check next week’s schedule, I saw Mr. Varo’s name back on the list and breathed a sigh of relief.

  I had spent the entire day fretting over what the psychic said. She seemed spot on about everything, so it didn’t make sense when she said Greg, someone who was genuinely sweet, was no good for me. Of course she couldn’t be expected to be one hundred percent accurate. And in the end, I decided it was really just for fun anyway.

  Valerie, Genevieve, and I had compared readings afterward at Valerie’s house. They thought her insight was uncanny. I agreed, but didn’t mention the part where she’d said the guy I was hot for wasn’t suitable for me. I didn’t want to put a damper on the evening. I kind of wanted to forget she’d said it.

  On my way to Mr. Varo’s, I dismissed what the psychic said and filled my head with positive thoughts. No need to dwell on the negative – especially when it was coming from a questionable source.

  I rang the doorbell and Mr. Varo answered. “Hey Sam. Long time no see. How’ve you been?”

  “Good. And you?”

  “I’m about the same, but unfortunately Greg is sick. He had a conference in Seattle and took me along last week. We had a nice time seeing the sights in his free time, but he didn’t bring enough layers and now he’s got the flu.”

  As I headed to the kitchen I heard coughing down the hall.

  “You wouldn’t believe the food there Sam. Boy did I eat!”

  I raised an eyebrow, then gave him an inquiring look as I pulled out my sphygmomanometer to take his blood pressure.

  “Lots of fish and vegetables,” he grinned. “No sugary stuff. Scout’s honor,” he claimed as he held up his hand.

  “Well, test results don’t lie. But I’ll take your word for it until then.” I smiled and added, “Thanks for dinner the other time too. It was delicious.”

  “Hey Sam,” a raspy voice said from behind me.

  I turned and saw Greg. He was wearing light gray pajamas. The top was soaked with sweat, and the hair on his head was sticking up in all different directions. He looked miserable.

  “Hey Greg. Sorry to hear you’re sick,” I said. I put on a professional face. “Can I get something for you? How can I help?”

  “Oh. I was just looking for the number to the pizza place. Haven’t had the time or energy to shop for groceries. Or do laundry for that matter,” he added, indicating the wrinkled pajamas. “I’m just so tired.” He began rummaging through the kitchen drawer and pulled out a menu. He stared at it for a long minute.

  “What is it, Greg?” his father asked.

  “I never thought I’d get tired of pizza. But here I am contemplating that very concept.”

  “Why don’t you let me pick up something for you two at the family restaurant on the corner? I was going to stop there on my way home,” I lied.

  Greg looked like he was going to say no, like he didn’t want to trouble me with his woes, but his dad stepped in. “Do you mean the Heartland Café? Ooh, their meatloaf is excellent. Reminds me of my mother’s. Would it be too much trouble Sam?”

  We made eye contact and I saw a twinkle in his. He was plotting again. “No. It’s no trouble at all. Like I said, I was going to stop there on my way home.”

  “Let me give you some money,” Greg offered.

  I waved him off. “No. You guys fed me last time. I got this.”

  Greg looked like he wanted to debate me but didn’t have the energy. “Thanks,” he said. “I really appreciate that. I’m going to go back to bed now.”

  “You should change into dry pajamas,” I advised him.

  He nodded and shuffled back to his room. His gait was like that of a zombie.

  Mr. Varo grinned. “I really do like the meatloaf at Heartland’s.”

  “I don’t doubt that.” I winked. “So meatloaf special then? You want the soup or salad?”

  “I’d like salad, with French dressing. Get Greg the meatloaf too, with chicken soup.” Mr. Varo tried to reach for his wallet, but I swatted his hand.

  “I told you, I got it.”

  “Make sure you get something for yourself too. That way we can all eat together.”

  “I will.”

  We resumed our weekly exam, and when I’d finished logging his results in the computer I rose to leave. “See you in a bit,” I said on my way out.

  A half hour later I returned with three meatloaf dinners, chicken soup for Greg, and a salad for Mr. Varo. Greg was in the kitchen standing by the fridge. I noticed he’d changed into a T-shirt and sweatpants, and he’d also put on his pink robe.

  My heart began to race. Then I felt bad I was having salacious thoughts when he was under the weather.

  Mr. Varo began setting the table, putting out napkins, forks and knives. “I’ll get everyone some water,” he said.

  Greg groaned. I wasn’t sure if it was because he didn’t want to drink water or if he was in pain. Then he flopped into one of the dining chairs and put his elbows on the table to support his chin. His lips formed an adorable pout.

  I turned my attention to the food, taking it out of the bags and removing the lid from the soup. “Be careful. It’s hot,” I warned Greg, as I slowly slid it in his direction.

  “Thanks, Mom,” he said, offering a weak smile. I felt like an idiot. Of course he’d know to be careful with hot soup. He reached for his spoon and pulled out some broth. As he blew on the liquid to cool it I watched his lips like a pervert.

  “Sam. Do you want real plates or are the to-go containers fine?” Mr. Varo asked.

  I looked up. I wasn’t paying attention but had heard part of it. “Whichever you prefer.”

  “The fewer dishes to wash the better.”

  I nodded, then placed a meal in front of everyone. Greg’s eyelids looked heavy, like he might not make it through dinner. We ate in silence. The only sound for the first few minutes was the half-hearted slurping of soup.

  “Aren’t you going to eat any meat or potatoes?” Mr. Varo asked Greg. “They’ve got it all separated into sections the way you like it.”

  Greg managed a small smile. Then he dug his fork in and took a bite. “It’s good, but I don’t think I can eat much right now. I’ll save it for later.” He wiped his lips with his napkin and stood. “I’m sorry, but I think the medicine I took is kicking in. I’m going to have to lie down.”

  “Feel better,” I told him.

  “Thanks,” he said, then gave me a little wave.

  In his absence Mr. Varo and I continued to devour our food. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast. I had felt funny chowing
down in front of Greg, but now that he wasn’t around, I cleaned my plate.

  Mr. Varo stretched his arms over his head. “Gosh, that was tasty. Wasn’t it?”

  “Agreed.” The empty container in front of me pretty much spoke for itself.

  I stood and began straightening up, but Mr. Varo stopped me. “Why don’t you leave that Sam? You’ve already done enough. Maybe you could check on Greg before you leave?”

  “Sure.” I still had to return his sweater anyway. I washed my hands in the sink, dried them on a dish towel and dug the cardigan out of my bag.

  When I peeked in Greg’s room I noticed he was still awake. “Hey,” I said in a quiet voice. “I just wanted to return your sweater. Thanks so much.” I set it on top of his desk, being careful not to topple the tower of magnets stationed there.

  “No problem.”

  Even from across the room I could tell he was burning up again. I could see the sweat on his face. “Let me get you something before I leave,” I said. I went to the bathroom and ran a washcloth under cool water and rung it out. I returned, and gently placed it on his forehead.

  “That feels good,” he said.

  On impulse, I sat on the edge of the bed and gave him a sympathetic look.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” Greg whispered. Then he took hold of my hand and closed his eyes and quickly fell asleep.

  Chapter 13

  Later that night I thought about Greg. His skin had been so pale and clammy. His forehead was on fire. Granted, it was just the flu. Probably something he’d picked up on the plane, but it hurt my heart to see him miserable. It was the first time I’d felt something other than intense sexual desire for him. This time what I felt was compassion. But not just the kind of compassion I feel for patients – this was different. I wanted to do whatever I could to make him feel better.

  When I had put the washcloth on his forehead he looked so grateful. But his eyes, usually so bright and filled with life, were dim. When he reached for my hand I was pleasantly surprised. I could’ve held his all night. But he’d fallen asleep, and I thought it would be inappropriate to stay for too long, so I reluctantly let it go after ten minutes and went home.

  I wondered what he meant when he said, “I’m so glad you’re here.” Was it because he was sick and I’m a nurse? Or did he like me the way I liked him?

  I laughed out loud at myself. Over-analyzing relationships can be exhausting!

  The next day I had a couple cancellations and was able to swing by my parents’ house in between appointments. Mom had the week off work. No trip this time, just relaxing at home.

  “Hey honey,” she said after opening the door. “What a nice surprise.”

  She acted happy, but it looked like she’d been crying. “Hey Mom. I had some cancellations so I figured I’d come by and see how the ‘taking it easy’ thing was going.” I gave her a concerned look. She knew I could tell something was up.

  “You want some lunch? I just made a sandwich.”

  “Sure.”

  She poured a glass of lemonade and gave me half a ham and cheese sandwich and some chips. I kept staring at her, waiting.

  She pulled out a chair and sat down. “Your dad and I had a fight,” she said, almost too casually.

  “What about?” My parents rarely argued.

  “It’s nothing, really.” She paused, looking like she was trying to convince herself of what she’d just stated. “There’s a woman at work he’s always talking about. I took their friendship the wrong way and began asking questions.” She shook her head like she could rid herself of the memory. “He exploded. Told me I was wrong and that he was hurt I’d even consider such a thing.” She looked down. “Now he’s so upset our whole week is ruined. Well, maybe not ruined, but we’re not doing the things we’d planned.”

  I reached for her hand and squeezed it. “I’m sorry Mom.” I wasn’t sure what else to say. I hoped nothing was really going on between Dad and that other woman. I mean, I’d heard plenty of stories about people their age, but it was hard to know with my dad because he was so quiet. I brushed it off as nonsense. My parents always got along great. Obviously it was just a misunderstanding. “Maybe try to talk to him again,” I suggested. “Salvage the rest of your time off so you can relax.”

  “I’ll try.” She forced a smile, no doubt for my benefit. “So how have you been? Anything new since we talked last?”

  I tried to remember when was the last time we spoke. “Got some new patients,” I said. “And I went with Val and Gen to see a psychic last weekend. Did I tell you that?”

  “No. You didn’t.” She seemed to come to life again. “What’d she say?”

  “She was surprisingly accurate. Not one hundred percent, but still good. I don’t know what to make of it, really. I suppose I could be reading into what she said – you know, playing right into her suggestions in a way that made it seem she’s figured it all out. But it was spooky how close she got to the truth. Oddly enough, she said you, me, and Tabby were going to take a trip together. She said it would be a life changing journey.”

  My mom looked puzzled. “Huh,” she replied. The wheels seemed to be turning in her head. “Well, you never know. I’d love to take a vacation with my girls, but I hadn’t been planning anything. Life changing, huh?”

  “I know. I’m not sure what she meant by that.” I paused, imagining what it would be like to go on a vacation with my mom and sister. Then the daydream morphed into a vacation fantasy with Greg. “Oh, I almost forgot. I saw the guy I like yesterday. It wasn’t a date. I just went to his house for his dad’s visit and he was home sick with the flu.”

  “Awww,” my mom cooed.

  “That was my reaction, at least on the inside.” I smiled. “I got to play nurse for a while though. He had a temperature so I got a cool washcloth for his forehead. Then, as I sat on the edge of his bed, he took hold of my hand.”

  My mom’s face lit up. “Ooh, that’s another good sign. I’m positive he likes you. When do you see him again?”

  “Not until next week. But maybe I could give his dad a call on the way home to see how he’s feeling. You know, out of professional concern.”

  “That’s a good idea. Follow up.”

  I got up to check the time, then turned back to my mom. “You gonna be okay?”

  “I’m fine,” she said. “Don’t worry about me.”

  I hugged her. “Thanks for lunch. I’ll call you tomorrow to see how you’re doing.”

  She nodded. “What’s the boy’s name again? The one you like?”

  “Greg.”

  “I have a good feeling about him,” she said.

  I smiled. If my mom thought he was worthy, then he was. End of discussion.

  After finishing with the rest of the day’s patients, I called Mr. Varo. “Hi there,” I said. “This is Sam. I just wanted to call and see if Greg is feeling any better today?”

  “Well hello, Sam. I think he’s still sick, but he went to work. That’s all the boy does. He’d never missed a day in his life until this week.”

  Hmm. So it was meant to be that I was there that day. “Well I figured I’d call on my way home to follow up.”

  “Thanks Sam. I appreciate it. I’ll let Greg know you called. I think he’d like to know that.”

  I pressed the end button and drove home. Part of me was sad Greg didn’t need my help, but part of me was happy he was well enough to leave the house. Another part of me felt disquiet over what my mom and I had discussed earlier. I didn’t like the feeling lingering in my gut.

  That evening, while I napped on the sofa, I thought I heard the doorbell. I shook my head a little, disoriented. I hadn’t been getting enough rest and was in a deep sleep. I heard it ring again and I got up and went to the door.

  “Hey,” Tabby said. “Hope you don’t mind I stopped by. I just want to see as much of you as possible before going to college.”

  I yawned. “That’s cool. Come on in.”

  Tabby came in
and took off her jacket.

  “So what’s new?” I asked.

  “You won’t believe it, well, maybe you will. I found out Jack got arrested for shoplifting. He spent the night in jail before his mom bailed him out.”

  “Yeah, not all that surprised, Tabby. Sorry.” I thought about making a joke about prison being the perfect place to enjoy anal sex. But I could tell my sister wasn’t in a joking mood. “Still, that’s gotta suck.”

  She sat down. “I know. What an idiot. And to think I’d been feeling sad over our break up.” She looked up at me. I raised an eyebrow. “Of course I don’t want to get back together with him, but I stopped by his house before coming here, just to see if he was okay.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me either. I know you still care for the idiot.” She opened her mouth to argue. “Sorry again. Geez, I should just shut up and let you talk.” I slid down onto the couch next to her.

  “He looked pretty shaken. I think whatever stunt he thought he was going to pull backfired and now he knows that shit’s not cool.”

  “Let’s hope so. I’d hate to see him waste his life.” Admittedly, I didn’t hold out a lot of hope for Jack, but maybe he could change. Maybe.

  Tabby sighed. She looked pretty worried. I was thankful she was going a couple hours away to school, that way there was little chance she could do something stupid like get back together with him.

  “Jack said something I thought was strange. He was out to breakfast with his parents and saw Dad there sitting across from some lady who wasn’t Mom. He must have been mistaken. Could have been a work breakfast, I suppose. Or maybe Jack was stoned and just thought the guy looked like Dad.”

  Chapter 14

  The next day my thoughts were focused on what Tabby had said. I walked around the block a few times after work, trying to burn off the fatty meal I’d just consumed, and tried to clear my mind. It was usually filled with daydreams of Greg. Today it brimmed with worry.

  I pulled out my cell phone and dialed my mom. “Hey Mom. How’s it going?”

 

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