Once a year

   As I woke up, the first feeling I got was that he was still there. And that was all I needed. I didn’t want to think about anything or anyone else. Having him there, next to me, was an achievement I couldn’t compare with anything else. It had all happened so fast that, for a moment during the night, I thought I was dreaming every single moment. And to be honest, I didn’t care. It was the best dream in the world, if that’s what it was, and I would try to spend as much time in it as I could, enjoying myself and being happy for once in a long time.

 The thing was, he had always seemed so distant, so elusive. But at the same time, He wasn’t a stranger to me; it wasn’t as if I had met him just last night, no. We had been acquaintances for a long time, having mutual friends and meeting in several parties and gatherings in the recent years. Yes, years. When I met him, he was different. Maybe it’s because I’m falling in love or something, but back then I didn’t noticed his physical beauty, nor his internal one. The only thing I saw was this very serious guy, rarely laughing at my jokes (and I joke a lot). The only thing he did was taking his girlfriend’s hand.

 Yes, I know. She was very beautiful to be honest, with her long black hair and big green eyes. I think they worked together or something. I haven’t got to the moment where I can feel comfortable asking about his past conquests. Maybe it’s too early to do that. But she was a nice girl and I have to say that the first time I saw them I liked her better than him. He was so cold, looked so boring and simple. Not my type of guy to be honest, so I just never got close enough to talk to him.

 The next year, we met again on a cocktail party. A mutual friend of ours happened to be an artist, a photographer and we were both invited to the inauguration of one of his exhibitions. To be honest, I had not planned to go. It wasn’t like he was my best friend or anything but another person I knew was going to be there and she told me there was going to be free alcohol and lots of cute guys to look at. As I had nothing better to do, I dressed with anything and left my home.

 There, I would meet again with him. The girl with the black hair had not come with her. In her place, there was a brunette, much shorter than him and with more personality in one nail that he apparently had in all of his body. She was looking at the pictures and telling jokes, making friends all over and being, for all intents and purposes, the life of the party. Again, I talked to her a lot and I laughed with pleasure because the woman was a riot. Yet again, he was very cold, standing always behind her like a stone bodyguard, just there to take care of her. Sometimes he looked somber and that was the first time I saw a glimpse of his beauty, his mysterious tone if you will.

 But just after that, I met someone somewhere else and I wouldn’t think of him for a whole year. I got myself in a very strange relationship, with a man that had a child. If there’s something stranger than that, I would like to know. It worked fine at the beginning, I have no complaints. His little girl was very nice and he was a great guy in bed, has to be said. But it all went to pieces when we were about to celebrate our first year together. I discovered he had been cheating on me for a couple of months. From then on, I have to say it; I have never trusted people very much. He looked like a great honest guy. He wasn’t and that took its toll on me.

 It was during that period of feeling like shit when I saw him again. But this time we weren’t in any party or nice cocktail event. No. I had decided to go out of my house to buy some groceries to the supermarket. It was one of these huge markets that sell everything. I was dressed a bit crazy, as I hadn’t even showered, but in those days I wasn’t taking to much attention on anything. Anyway, I met him by the frozen foods, when I was trying to reach for the only chicken lasagna left. Out of nowhere his taller self reached it out and gave it to me. To this day I remember that moment because when I looked at him, he was smiling.

 He told me he remembered me from some parties and that he had always thought I was funny. In my head, I doubted that. Not only because I wasn’t buying anything a man said but because he had never seemed amused by me in those parties. He had to be a great actor or something. To my surprise, he wasn’t an actor but a graphic designer and he had come to the supermarket to buy some cereal, which he loved. We talked for several hours there, in the aisles filled with kids persuading their parents to buy them some candy or older men looking at how the butcher did his job. In a very strange way, it was a very nice walk. Something had happened to him that changed him but I didn't dare to ask.

 At the end of that afternoon, we separated in the parking lot. We didn’t exchange any numbers or emails or anything. At least to me, that wasn’t a priority now and maybe he had felt that or he was in a similar place. The good thing was that I smiled all the way home. Somehow, I had finally seen directly to those beautiful eyes he had and I had taken a liking of them. His face was just there, on my mind, for many days after that. I regretted not asking for a number but maybe, and this was the most likely thing, he had just been nice. I was sensitive because of my breakup and making decisions was not the best idea.

 The days passed and I started working and living more normally. I even ran into my ex-boyfriend but all I could feel was disgust. Because there was no love to feel but he was still the person that had decided to lie to me, to make me feel worthless on purpose and I just couldn’t forgive that. He barely said hello but I didn’t care at all about what he said or how he said it. I just wanted to get over that time in my life and soon. So I just nodded and went on with my life. I had never seen him again and, honestly, I couldn’t care less about where or what he is doing. I think that is the right way to feel and I don’t regret a thing.

 However, I kept thinking about that beautiful guy, the guy with whom I talked nicely for what seemed know like just a moment. I wasn’t in love of course but I really wanted to see him again and find an explanation for what I felt every time I thought about him. So I just went for it, calling mutual friends, trying to get something about him. And then, one night, it hit me: Facebook. It was so obvious and yet I hadn’t thought of it. Why call people when they have their friend network for everyone to see? So I looked at the profile of the guy that had done the photography exhibition and browsed his friend’s list.

 His name was as beautiful as he was. I didn’t add him right away or anything. I was too nervous and it seemed like a very serious step to take. So I just bookmarked his profile and let everything be for a while. I finally told my friend, the one that had convinced me to go to the exhibition, about the guy and how much I thought about him and his stupid face. She was surprised and I was surprised that she was. She told me that, in her personal opinion, he wasn’t that special. She thought he had nice ears, which I found to be very funny, and that his eyes had a nice color, but that was it. She said he was too tall, too skinny and looked like a zombie.

 Somehow, I got mad at her. I didn’t screamed at her or anything but I wanted to. He wasn’t any of those things. So right after we met, I sent him the Facebook invite to be my friend. To my surprise, he accepted it just a few minutes afterwards. We started chatting and he seemed as nice as I had seen him on the supermarket. I checked some of his pictures and was glad that I could see that face for a longer while. As it was the end of the afternoon, he asked if we could meet to have a coffee and chat. Of course, I said yes.

 All of that happened about a year ago. We spent several months going out for coffee, watching movies together, having lunch and just chatting for hours on hours, no matter if that was on the phone, the computer or live. He was a nice person to be around and I could feel he was comfortable with me. At one point, he got to my place to watch a movie and he took his shoes right off, put them in the right place and sat on his favorite spot. He felt comfortable and one of those nights we felt like kissing but we didn’t.

 That happened another day, one he prepared with anticipation and that lead to this day. The day he planned started with a nice dinner, a great a fun chat and was followed, of course, by a movie. We held hands, kissed and never saw the end of that movie. We made love for hours and I have to say it was amazing. And now he’s there, breathing softly at my side and I’m already planning to serve him a big bowl of his favorite cereal, which I know from that time in the supermarket. But for now I’m just going to watch him closely, in silence, because I’ve just noticed I have fallen in love. It happens.

Aegean Cruise

   Maureen Sullivan ran to the railing and held her hat before the wind had a chance to blew it off her head. The city looked gorgeous from there and, as she soon realized, the cruiser had began to move. It was just perfect, feeling the wind on her face, the smell of the salt water and the beautiful city, which began turning on its lights for it was already late in the evening. Maureen stood there for several minutes until she heard the announcement of a special dinner to welcome all the passengers to this journey.

 Maureen then decided to go to her room and change clothes for dinner. When she got to her cabin, she went through her luggage and started hanging some dresses and taking out all the shoes she had. She loved to dress nicely as she hadn’t being able to do so for many years. The thing is that Maureen used to be a nun. Yes. She had her calling at an early age, after being a devoted catholic for all of her childhood. Now, when she thought about it, maybe she had been too young and should’ve thought this more thoroughly.

 She decided to put on a beautiful purple dress with a matching purse and green shoes. For a moment, Maureen thought she was going to look like an upside down eggplant, but then she decided to go for it. So what if people talked? That was better. This fifty two year old woman had not being able to use such rich colors back in the convent, and one of the things she looked forward as she left her former life was the use of many types of clothing and makeup. It seemed shallow but it was understandable after more than thirty years wearing always the same thing, and the same boring shoes.

 She arrived at the dining hall just in time, as every single passenger was making their way into their respective tables. Maureen thanked God she didn’t have to look for a seat but instead only ask one of the waiters where she was supposed to seat. They had electronic screens where they checked it. After receiving directions, Maureen asked the waiter where could she find one of those screens. She was fascinated by the invention.

 A few minutes later she was already siting between a Canadian couple and a lady from Moscow, who was a bit older than her. She started speaking in English to her and, to her surprise; the woman was fluent and very educated, telling her about her life in the Russian capital. Maureen didn’t want her to stop but the show had started on the stage they were facing and it was too good to miss.

 As she watched the dancers, it was almost impossible not to think what would she be doing if she had still being a nun. At this hour of the night, probably sleeping or trying to at least. She used to love knitting and to embroider to calm her nerves, which always seemed restless. The doctor, one that came to the convent once per month to check on all the sisters, had given her some pills to calm that restlessness but she had never taken a single one. Something deep inside told her that she didn’t need that because her impatience, that weird energy inside of her was what she needed to keep on living.

 Maybe it was because of this, or maybe not, but she started to have blood pressure problems just after learning that her mother and father had died. A horrible accident and half her family had disappeared, as if they had never existed. She still had a brother but he never went to the convent to visit her and talk. He had gone to college, got a great job abroad and the last thing she knew was that he had gotten married and had one child. As the dancers finished, she thought how much she would love to meet her nephew.

 Maureen went on talking to the Russian lady and learned that her name was Valentina and that she was actually from Yekaterinburg, a city located in the Ural mountains of central Russia. She told Maureen about the harsh winters when she would stay inside for many days and enjoy lots of sweets because her parents said chocolate helped resist the cold. Valentina also told her about the trips along the river in the spring, when the water was so still and the flowers blossomed all over.

 It was just magic listening to all of Valentina’s stories. She seemed like the kind of woman she would have liked to be: limitless, doing what she liked the most, enjoying her life fully. It isn’t that she had hated the convent or anything. Quite the opposite: she missed the sisterhood that she had left there. If there was something beautiful about being a nun, it was the fact that they took care of each other, every single day. But, nevertheless, she thought she would have liked to enjoy more of life, getting to do more things in life, experience new things.

 That’s why, with the money she had inherited all those years ago, she had decided to take this cruise. She knew that a trip would make her happy beyond anything she had ever known. Because there was one thing she missed the most and that was people. Yes, she did do a lot for many people on the convent but always going back to those four walls, always helping but not really relating. That was her reason for leaving. She argued that God must want more of all of us, not only helping and be good but to be interested for real, to be there for each other. And she didn’t feel that she was doing that so she left to do it on her own.

 But first, she had to do this trip. With Valentina, she toasted with champagne and was surprised at how nice it tasted. She had a couple more glasses and talked with her new friend about both their lives for hours, until the master of ceremonies took the stage to announce it was bedtime. The next day they were docking in Mykons and he advised everyone to have a good rest to enjoy a whole day in such a beautiful island. The two women complied and agreed to meet at the dock the following morning to scout the island and buy souvenirs to bring back home.

 That night, Maureen was sad. She couldn’t sleep wither so she took out a small notebook from her suitcase and a pencil. When she couldn’t sleep now, she would also draw. She was not very good and didn’t do any drawings of what she actually saw. She thought the world was too beautiful as it was to be rendered ugly by her hand. So what Maureen did was drawing things that came up in her mind. She liked to think of them as cartoons although she didn’t think any child would understand them.

 A child… Her nephew… That still hurt her so bad, being cut off from her family like that. She had called her brother after she left the convent. Her idea was to visit him first and them take the cruise but that wasn’t possible. Her brother told her she had decided to be cut off from them for a reason and now that their parents were gone, it didn’t make any sense to fuel a relationship that had been dead for so long. He argued that she had always thought of herself as special because of her devotion and that’s why she got to go away. For her brother, she had always been their parent’s favorite child and he had to live with that until he left the house.

 Maureen knew that, on the phone call, Brian had tried hard not to be rude because it wasn’t in him to be like that. But he stated clearly that he couldn’t just forget all about his past to rekindle a relationship with someone he was sure he didn’t know well. So she would never meet her nephew or at least not very soon. She drew at least three pages until she realized it was past 2 AM. She left her notebook and pencil on the bedside table and forced herself into a restless sleep.

 The following morning, she put on a nice flowery dress and sandals with a white hat and sunglasses to go down the dock and meet Valentina. She had not rested a bit but decided she couldn’t spoil her holiday just because of one bad night. The two women walked together along the beautiful streets and up and down stairs. They separated from the main group fast and explored many shops by themselves. They bought some presents and Valentina asked Maureen why she was taking so few. Maureen answered she was by herself now so it didn’t make any sense to buy many gifts.

 At lunchtime, Valentina decided to stop walking around and invited her new friend for brunch at a nice café overlooking the bay of Mykonos. They had all the entrées, as a way to taste the most of the local food. They had fun asking what it all was and, afterwards, going to the archeological museum were they discussed art and politics. It was fun for Maureen because she had so much in her mind about so many subjects but she had never been able to talk to anyone about it. She had a lot of fun with Valentina and when it was time to get back to the boat, they decided to have a few drinks at the cruise lounge on the top deck.

 When she got back to her cabin, Maureen had also decided to call her brother again. She did so disregarding any special fees. She didn’t care about prices or times. Maureen had to ask for forgiveness and try to get her family back to her because, if there was something to learn about her day with Valentina, it was that people are very important in everyone’s lives because they are the ones that make us feel alive. And who better to share your life with than your own family?

My Right Toe

  Stupidly, I had bumped my foot into a chair. By night, my big toe was a big red ball throbbing and hurting horribly. My beautiful partner helped me a bit but he was too grossed out by it so I had to take this matter into my own hands. Resisting the pain, I tried to make the blood and pus that had formed when the nail got stuck right into the flesh.

 After along time of moaning and panting, I dried my wound, cleaning it with all kind of products and then putting a bandage al around my toe to keep it free from infection. My sleep was not very good and, the next morning, I saw it still hurt a lot. Before leaving for work, Patrick told me to call Laura, a neighbor that happened to be a nurse. Mondays were her day of and she might be able to help on what to do with my toe.

 I called her on the cell and she came right away. We had helped Laura moving in after divorcing her husband and we had become great friends. Also, she left her daughter with us when she had to stay too late at work and her sister wasn’t able to babysit. The little one was adorable and we liked to have her in order to watch a lot of children movies and give her all kinds of bad and good food.

 After examination, Laura told me to call the pharmacy and ask for something to reduce the swelling of my toe that should be good if I stayed a couple of days at home. It would heal eventually but not if I worked too hard on it, and as my work consisted on walking a lot, this meant I couldn’t go anywhere.

 After Laura left, I called my office in order to tell them I wouldn’t be able to go for a couple of days because of an accident. My partner there got very worried and threatened to come home later and, before I could tell her it was all ok, she had hung up. The drugs from the pharmacy took some time to arrive and it was odd, for me, to receive the deliveryman wearing my pajamas barefoot. I didn’t really like not wearing socks or footwear but Laura had been adamant about it. The man warned me that the pills made you sleepy, which I loved instantly.

 When the man had left, I took one of the pills and swallowed it with a big gulp of water. I had never been very good at taking medicine, even the simplest ones. Maybe it was because my mother was so overprotective when I was little and she kept trying for me to take vitamins and codfish oil. She forced me so often; I think I created an utter dislike for anything that comes from a pharmacy or from a doctor.

 Patrick called shortly afterwards to check on me. I told him I couldn’t move a lot, only applying some hot water on my toe every so often. He sent me a kiss and promised to be there as soon as he could, which I knew was not very soon because he was an assistant in a sports team and those people loved to stay in one place talking and arguing for hours and hours and even if they didn’t have an incoming match, they would discuss all the games they had seen during the weekend, which could take some time.

 I personally didn’t like sports that much but when I met Patrick he tried to make me be a little sportier. He failed tremendously although now I can watch a whole football game without the need to check my phone every five seconds or pretending to go to the bathroom. I do get bored still but I guess love can conquer all differences, if one is committed enough.

 It was funny that when I turned on the TV, a tennis match was on. Then the doorbell rang and, slowly, I walked to the door. Strangely, my foot felt heavier, more swollen even. Didn’t the anti-inflammatory work? It was Laura and her little daughter. The little one was carrying a green backpack and a doll in her arms. They both came in and then Laura started talking fast: apparently her sister had a problem with her car and she had to go and help so she wondered if I could take care of her daughter Amanda.

-       Sure.

 To be quite honest, I don’t really get children that much. I mean, I like Amanda a lot but Patrick is always around when she comes in and he’s such a good guy with kids: he knows lots of games (or maybe his improvisation is really good) and kids like him a lot because his funny and just great.

Me, however, not so much. I mean, I can be creative because it’s part of my job but being a only child and having no close relatives younger than me, I never had the experience to take care of any of them.

 My first idea was to change the channel and put on some cartoons. I had no idea what kids Amanda’s age liked to see. Actually, I realized I had no idea how old she was. So I asked. She was so interested in the cartoon that she only put one hand up, with all her fingers stretched. Then I saw one more on the other hand, that she hadn’t put up. So seven years old.

-       I haven’t had breakfast. Are you hungry?

 She nodded, not really paying attention to what I had said. I went, slowly, to the kitchen. I almost hit a counter in the kitchen with my feet and had to cover my mouth to curse. The kid, luckily, didn’t turn to look at me. Apparently cartoons were much more interesting than the limping man in the apartment.

 After a fast look, I realized we had nothing good for a child to eat. Both Patrick and me ate granola for breakfast and I was sure kids didn’t like that. But I did so I poured some on a bowl with almond milk, because I’m weird that way. I found, at the back of a cupboard, a few cookies covered in chocolate. Was she allowed to have sweets this early in the day?

-       Amanda?

-       Yeah?

-       What would you like to eat?

-       Mm…

 She took quite a long time to say she was rather thirsty. Luckily, we always had plenty of fresh orange juice so I poured some for her on a small glass, which I thought was best for a child. I put it in front of her, in the coffee table, but I didn’t know if she had seen me. Her eyes looked as if she had been hypnotized or something. Then, the doorbell rang again.

 Apparently the doorman let anyone in, as it was a man handling pamphlets for a new Chinese restaurant. I told him we only needed one menu but he forced a bunch on my hands. As I couldn’t move, that was most probably a crime, or so I thought. I closed the door but then it was the intercom ringing. My toe was throbbing more than ever when I answered: we had bought a new dining table and I had totally forgotten about it.

 So for the following thirty minutes, I had a child drinking juice and watching TV, two men trying to get everything in the tiny elevator and then out, a bunch of useless restaurant menus and a toe hurting like mad. I was already cursing my luck when an older lady, a neighbor, came to complain about the noise the guys from the furniture store were making. I tried to be nice but then the old bat put her cane right on top of my foot.

 I don’t know if it was on purpose but I pushed the lady aside and made her fall on a chair by the door. Then the man in the living room dropped the table heavily, scaring the life out of Amanda, who screamed loudly and starting crying noisily. The man dragged the chairs in, as I helped the old lady up. I then screamed at them for damaging my floor and the lady fell again and I almost fell with her but apparently faith hates my foot as one of the guy’s dropped a chair right on it.

 I cursed so loud and hard everyone stopped making a noise and just stared at me, like I was mad or something. Then, I saw Patrick’s face and he was visibly confused by everything.

-       I got the day off… What’s going on?

 Behind him was Victoria, my partner at the office. She looked worried.

 Done with the world, I just decided to fall onto the sofa and let him deal with everything. Finally, with a huge pain on my foot and the sounds of people crying and screaming and talking again, I fell asleep. The medications had kicked in.