My Dream Man (5 page)

I lay in bed that night wide awake. The memory of him staring at me quickened my pulse. His eyes held the promise of something more. The only problem was I didn’t have patience. I wanted to have sex with him yesterday, which made me feel more than a little ashamed. I was behaving like a man, the kind of guy women talked smack about. Had I somehow turned into a sex addict?

I quickly brushed that insane idea away. If it was only sex I wanted, I could have found that somewhere else. Who knows? Maybe Brian would still want me. But it wasn’t just about sex – it was about sex with Greg. It was about chemistry. I needed to know what it was like to be with him. I had to know.

At least I had his sweater to tide me over. Cupid didn’t hate me too much. I decided to wear it to bed against my bare skin. It smelled of his sweat and a sweet fragrance I couldn’t quite place. His cologne maybe? Or maybe it was just pheromones.

On Saturday I attended Tabby’s high school graduation. Mom, Dad, and I were filled with pride as her name was called and she walked to the stage to accept her diploma. Only my mom and I knew the truth; that she almost didn’t make it through.

Tabby was so smart she could’ve graduated a year early, but in her junior year she’d gotten mixed up with the wrong kids and started to ditch classes. One of her best girlfriends always needed money, and since Tabby babysat and rarely spent her money, she had plenty on hand to loan out. She was generous to a fault. I knew the girl was using her. But when I brought it up we got into a big fight. Tabby didn’t want to hear what I had to say, though in the end my words proved true.

Jack came into the picture shortly after our argument, and since things were shaky between us, I decided not to dole out any more negative observations that could stir the pot. I kept them to myself and figured I’d let her learn on her own, the way I did. If she needed help, I’d be there for her. I would listen without judgment.

I glanced around the auditorium and saw Jack standing with his family further off to the right. Even dressed in a scholarly robe he still looked like a punk. His parents seemed to be fawning over him though. No doubt they’d deluded themselves into believing they had a son with a bright future instead of a delinquent. He told my mom once that he was going to go to Yale or Princeton. My mom laughed after he left the room, then said, “Didn’t he mean jail or prison?”

Of course we never shared Mom’s joke with Tabby. And even though Jack was now her ex, it still felt wrong to mention our previous belittlement. I decided to consider it a bonding moment with Mom and leave it at that.

I elbowed her. “Look over there,” I said. “You think he’s headed to Yale?”

Mom laughed blackly. “Do they have a Bachelor’s in DJing?” Then she made eye contact with me. “Oh, I’m sorry. That wasn’t very nice of me. I shouldn’t laugh at him at his graduation. I mean, he’s graduating, right? That’s an accomplishment right there.”

If she knew what he wanted to do to her daughter she wouldn’t be apologizing, but I promised Tabby I’d keep that secret. “Don’t feel bad Mom. He’s still kind of a punk.”

That got her laughing again. So much so that my dad turned to see what the deal was. “What am I missing that’s so funny?” he asked.

“Nothing dear,” Mom said, waving him off.

He shrugged and continued watching the kids. Dad was a man of few words.

Later on, we all stuffed our faces with French food and pastries at Tabby’s graduation dinner.

“This would be a great place for a wedding reception,” I said to my mom.

She glanced around, appraising the room. “For a small wedding party, yes. It would be intimate.” Mom looked back at me. “Wait a minute,” she said. “You’ve got a look on your face.”

I let my smile spread wider. Then she said, “That. . . That’s what I mean. What’s that all about?”

There was no holding back once she’d figured it out. “What? You mean the glimmer in my eye. Did that give it away?”

My mom was a little tipsy, but she quickly scanned my hand for a ring. “You’re not engaged, are you?”

“No. Not even close. I’m not even dating the guy. I just like him. A lot.” I sighed, realizing how ahead of myself I was getting.

Mom grabbed my hand. “Tell me about him.”

“His name is Greg. He’s the son of one of my patients. He’s a scientist, and he’s a little odd at times. But he’s got a great sense of humor.”

My mom’s eyes were as wide as saucers. “Keep talking,” she said, then took another sip of her cocktail.

I smiled. “He’s different. He’s got this magnetism about him, and his eyes are incredible. He makes me feel so alive. I’ve never felt like that around anyone before.”

“Is he single? Does he like you?” Mom asked in rapid-fire succession.

“He lives with his dad so I assume he’s single. Gosh, I sure hope so. I know he doesn’t wear a wedding ring. I checked. His dad – my patient – noticed me eyeing him and invited me to dinner last night. Trying to play matchmaker, I guess.”

“And how did it go?”

“I had a blast. The food was delicious and Greg made me laugh. He says the craziest stuff Mom. I can’t explain it. It’s something you have to experience for yourself.”

She sat up straighter. “Well I hope I get to.” She paused, obviously waiting for me to spill more details. I just smiled at her. “So when do you see him again? Did he ask you out?”

“I might see him at his dad’s next appointment. He’s not always there though. And no, he didn’t ask me out,” I added.

“Well did he do anything to indicate he likes you?”

I thought about it. “Not really. I mean, we went for a walk and he lent me his sweater because it was chilly. That’s it.”

“Did he lend it to you or put it on you?”

“He put it on me,” I answered. “Why? Does that matter?”

“It does,” she said. “That’s a good sign. It means he’s interested.”

“You think so?”

“Trust me. I’m forty-seven-years old. I know so.”

I smiled brightly, hoping she was right. I wanted him more than anything I’d ever wanted before. The desire was so powerful it left me feeling helpless.

I glanced at my mom, remembering the day she explained how she and Dad decided on my name. And Tabby’s.

“You named us after a TV show?”

“Mostly we chose the names because we really liked them. But we loved the show, too. Wouldn’t you like the ability to cast spells with a twitch of your nose?”

An image of a shirtless Greg brought me back to the present.

Yes, yes I would like that ability.

When I woke up on Sunday I was wearing Greg’s sweater. I’d worn it to bed on Friday and Saturday night, so I decided it would be best to have it dry cleaned before returning it. I didn’t want it to smell like I’d lived in the thing.

As I puttered around cleaning the house, I had an idea. I reached for the phone to call Greg and see if he wanted to go to a movie or grab a coffee. But as I went to press the button for Mr. Varo, my fingers froze and I chickened out.

I knew it wasn’t a big deal for a girl to ask a guy out, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. So I was back to waiting, which I hated with a passion.

On the way to the dry cleaners I heard my cell phone ring. After dropping off the cardigan I listened to the message. It was Valerie. She wanted to know if I’d be interested in having a psychic reading done. Genevieve had already said yes.

I didn’t believe in psychics or any of that mumbo jumbo, but I decided to join them on a lark. Surely it couldn’t hurt.

I called Valerie back right away. “Hey there. I just got your message. Yeah, that sounds like fun. I’ve never been to a psychic.”

“I wasn’t sure you’d go for it. I know it’s not really your thing, but Genevieve suggested we do something different.”

“Well, I’m totally game. Like you said, we should try new things.” I came off sounding more excited than I meant to.

There was silence on the other end. “I’m getting the feeling this new open-mindedness to gypsies has something to do with a certain dream lover.”

“It might.” She knew me too well. There was no point in lying to her.

“Then this will be extra fun,” she said. “The woman’s name is Irene. She does readings out of her house. And she doesn’t advertise; she can only be found through word of mouth.”

“How’d you hear of her?”

“My aunt told me about her. I guess Irene totally blew her mind. But she only accepts cash, though.”

“That’s cool,” I said.

“We’re meeting at my place this Saturday at five.”

“Okay. See you then,” I said, then hung up.

Maybe having my fortune told by a respected psychic was just what I needed. Was there such a thing as a respected psychic? I guess I would find out on Saturday. Maybe she would have insight on how to get closer to Greg, or know if he really likes me or not.

Within a minute of being stoked about it, the fear crept in. What if she had bad news? Like what if I was going to die soon? I wouldn’t want to know that. The more I thought about it, the more freaked out I got. I know this was irrational. But lots of things in my life were irrational right now. I realized I’d been munching like a mongrel on potato chips. I put the bag on the table and decided to chill. It’s just a silly reading. It doesn’t mean anything. It’ll be a fun night out with friends, that’s all.

Monday morning I checked the weekly schedule and was disappointed to find Mr. Varo wasn’t on my list. I wondered if he was out of town, or hospitalized or. . .

I dialed my boss’s number to check in. When I asked if Mr. Varo was okay, he said he hadn’t received any news, he just didn’t make an appointment for this week. It wasn’t completely unusual. The timing just sucked.

I put on my best smile and went about my work as I always did – with efficiency and professionalism. Still, the day felt “off” to me. I found myself getting irritated at patients’ questions rather than welcoming them as an opportunity to teach.

Later that night I called Valerie. “What if Greg didn’t like me and requested his dad switch nurses?” I asked her.

“Your boss would’ve told you that.”

I sighed. “You’re right. I just really like this guy. It’s got me kind of stressed.”

Val laughed. “Sorry. I just find it funny you’re jonesing so bad for some nerdy guy. No offense.”

“None taken,” I said. “It’s weird Val. It’s like I can’t stop thinking of him.”

“You mean
lusting
for him,” she teased.

“Well if you’re going to get technical.”

“I’m still processing what you said about Brian. I would’ve dumped him too if he couldn’t make me come. What was his deal anyway? Too small? Sex ended too quickly?”

“No. He wasn’t too small. And he didn’t get excited in two minutes flat. I mean, he really did try to please me.”

“Huh. Well at least he wasn’t a selfish prick. He tried.” She paused, then asked, “Do you think this Greg guy will be like that in real life? I mean, it was just a dream after all. I’ve had dreams where I’m flying like Superman.”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s all in my head, but I have a feeling there’s something to it. I certainly hope so. And I hope I get a chance to find out.” I smiled, remembering how cute he looked the last time I saw him. “So how about you? How are you doing after breaking up with the one who shall never again be named?”

I heard Val take a gulp of her drink. “Fine. I’m doing a lot of reading. Romance novels. It’s a great way to escape reality and raise my expectations to unrealistic levels.”

I laughed. “Perhaps the psychic will know where to find one of those men.”

“Perhaps,” she said, then we said goodbye.

Thursday morning I saw Mrs. Myszkowski.

When she opened the front door she looked up at me. “What’s the matter with you? You look upset.”

I was puzzled by her question. “I’m not upset. Why do you think I’m upset?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “You’ve just got this anxious look about you. I definitely don’t want you jabbing me with needles today.”

“Don’t worry. No needles today,” I promised.

She and I went to the living room, and as I got started checking her vitals she asked, “So what’s going on? Boy trouble?”

“I don’t know,” I sighed. “Things went well Friday night. We had a nice dinner and went for a stroll afterward. He even lent me his sweater. But this week his dad didn’t make an appointment.”

“Maybe they went out of town.”

“I thought of that, but wouldn’t it have come up at the dinner? Like in conversation?”

Mrs. Myszkowski took hold of my hand. Hers was birdlike but strong. “He probably didn’t think to mention it. Or maybe something came up, like an emergency. These things happen.”

I smiled. “I’m sure you’re right. I mean, I know his dad likes me, otherwise he wouldn’t have tried to set me up with his son. Maybe he’s just feeling better this week.” I sighed. “It was just that I had Greg’s sweater cleaned and planned to return it. I hoped to make small talk.”

“You cleaned the sweater? Why’d you do something stupid like that?”

I looked at her, confused.

“You should’ve worn it, and then gave it back to him smelling like you,” she said, then put a finger to her temple. “Use your brains.”

The genius of it hit me and I grinned. “Good idea. I could still do that.”

“That’s my girl. You’re learning.” She smiled.

“You’ve got some pretty smooth moves for an old lady,” I joked.

Anna nodded at the compliment. “I was smooth long ago. That’s how I got my late husband. All the girls wanted him, but he chose me.” She raised her eyebrows and grinned mischievously. “Because I knew how to drive him crazy.”

“What? You mean?”

“No,” she raised her hand, cutting me off. “Not like that, well, like that, but after we got married. I’m talking about before, when we were courting.”

“I like the word courting. It sounds old-fashioned and cute.”

“Are you calling me old?”

“No, I mean…”

She laughed. “I was just picking on you. You’re such an easy target.”

“So you mean you knew how to keep him interested,” I said.

“Bingo,” she said. “And that’s what you need to figure out how to do.”

I contemplated her advice. “And how am I going to do that?”

“It’s different for each man. It’s something you have to learn on your own.”