Page 26 of Goodbye To Tomorrow

“And?” she asked, knowing that I had not told her everything yet. Then she coughed, and I had to rush over to hand her a glass of water.

"I’m Okay, I’m Okay," she said pushing the glass of water away. "Go on,” she continued, urging me to speak.

“Although he looks a little pale, he is still very handsome, and it felt really good not seeing him with the model,” I admitted in a wry voice.

I suddenly checked the time and realized that I would be late for work if I didn’t hurry. I didn’t mind working straight through the holiday; I could use the extra money.

I let the shower cascade over my skin as I basked in the warmth of the spray. I rubbed the soap over my brown flesh and allowed my hands to graze over my skin. I imagined Jiraiya was somehow under the water with me. He stood there, smiling, and talking provocatively under the water. His hands rested on my shoulders, giving me a slow and subtle massage across the smoothness of my soft skin. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the feel of his hands on my body.

His hands started to glide down my shoulders and then, my arms, crossed over to my belly where both of his hands met as he drew me faintly towards him, merging our skins together. I moaned inwardly with my eyes still closed, my own hands already shuddering in anticipation. I was moist; even as the running water continued to wash my flesh.

I let out a sigh and my eyes parted open. Jiraiya was probably never going to see me the same way that I saw him. I probably would never even see him again. After all, he would soon be married to that model. All I had were my own thoughts and my own hands and my own mouth for moaning to myself.

I dried my body with the big towel that hung from the door and got dressed for work; I wasn’t going to miss work because of my salacious thoughts. I stared into the mirror while I combed my hair. I applied light make-up; just some powder and lipstick. Dangling green holly earrings completed the scene. It was time to go.

*****

I glared at Samantha while she checked the espresso machine; something she always did when there were no customers waiting. She had the coffee shop branded hat on and it looked ridiculous. I chuckled; making her throw a lethal frown at me. I was thinking of the right way to ask her the question that had been hanging on the webs of my mind since I resumed my shift.

I swiftly looked back when I heard the chime of the bell and a customer entering. It was an older lady. She was a regular customer who seemed always to have fur on her clothing. She once said she had three dogs who she called her babies. I wouldn’t say that I hate dogs, but I would rather have a cat than a mangy old dog. I moved close to the counter, flashed a smile and asked what she wanted in the friendliest voice I could conjure.

“What can I get you, Ma’am?”

“Whatever coffee you have that doesn’t look or taste awful,” she said in her creaking voice. Her smile revealed age lines around her mouth. I didn’t need to be told that she wouldn’t want sugar; she however would like milk. I turned, pressed her coffee and added creamy milk to it. She tasted it and exposed a toothy grin. She then walked over to one of the tables and took a seat, making herself comfortable. She must not have any family visiting during the holidays.So sad.

The peal of the bell rang through my ears once more and I turned my neck with an alacrity that almost gave me a sprain. It was a young couple; male and female. They looked so happy and so in love. And they looked good together. I probably would consider dating again if someone ever asked me out. I shook my head at the thought.

I poured two latte and creamed coffees with sugars as ordered by the lady. We had small talk and the lady joked about Samantha’s hat, to which we all laughed. I liked this couple already. The three of us turned to face the door once again as the bell made a clang.

It was a middle-aged man who seemed to be in a hurry. He wore a brown coat and a hat even more ridiculous than Samantha’s. I turned to Samantha when she was done with the customer, four slow strides; and I was already standing beside her.

“Did you, by any chance, notice a tall sexy white male with wavy brown hair come in here any time this week?” I asked in the quietest voice I had used in months.

“What? Who?” She was not even looking at me. I snatched the hat off her head and she abruptly swung into action, chasing me round the counter. We were soon standing on either side, giggling.

“Give it back,” she said, trying to force a stern look on me.

“Why do you like this thing anyway?” I asked.

“Because it-- you know what? Never mind, just ask your question and I promise I’ll answer,” she said.

“There’s this man that came in here about a week ago, you have probably seen him on TV before,” I tried to explain, but Samantha cut me off with her razor-sharp voice.

“You mean the man that you spent your entire shift staring at last week?” She asked, giving me a serious face look.

“No, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I fibbed.

“I am just kidding, ha-ha,” she started to laugh.

“You gave me a scare there. I was beginning to think I had been found out,” I threw her hat back at her.

“Ah Hah! Finally, you admit the truth, Karine. About damn time,” she chuckled and nodded her head. “Yes, he was here earlier today before you got here. He sat at the corner table for a while and left. He looked so sad.”

My heart plummeted at the news. “Okay, thanks. That hat looks ridiculous by the way,” I said again for good measure as she put it back on top her head.

*****

There was still some free time, so I decided to check the newspaper gossip column and see if there was anything new. I perused the pages and quickly skipped past the headlines that contained glints of politics or business, I did not care for those. Just as I was about to push it aside, something caught my attention; It was a vacancy.

The position was for a private nurse. It had to be good, I thought. Not just anybody has the money to place an advert in a newspaper. I looked closer and saw that it was for somebody who was sick and would need a private nurse to attend to his basic health needs. She did not have to be certified, but she needed to have experience in taking care of people and must have worked in a hospital. It just felt like the advert was speaking directly to me. I had worked in a hospital and I had experience taking care of people; not just during my time at the hospital but also with my gravely ill dad and my now depressed mom. I planned to put that in my application; it surely would give me an advantage.

I jotted the contact info down on a scrap of paper. I’d forward my resume later. Right now, I needed to concentrate on this paying job.

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