Whatever You Need

“Hi…err…I’m Hunter.”
“Eric.”
I released a short breath of relief as the men shook hands.
“Listen.. I had no ide- that erm.. I should go,” Hunter babbled, dipping his hands into his pockes uncomfortably.
Hunter’s eyes met mine. I wished he could read the longing for him to stay in them.
“Don’t leave, buddy. I was just on my way out. The shower was broke at my place next door and Annie was kind enough to let me use hers while she was out,” Eric lied.
I mouthed thank you as he winked and rushed upstairs to get changed.
“Is it really alright if I stayed for a while? I feel terrible imposing like this.”
“Are you kidding? I should be preparing some coffee for you, for carrying me all the way back here.”
Hunter grinned brightly and walked over to sit by me. We just stared at each other; that was until Eric came barrelling down the stairs again to leave. Hunter jumped from the seat abruptly and waved, “See you later, buddy.”
“Catch you later, Annie,” he called.
“He seems like a nice guy,” Hunter coughed as a soft blush crept under his cheeks.
I watched him enduringly until his gaze returned to me. The back of my head was still burning from the fall, and the second I mentioned the throbbing, Hunter jumped up and leapt into the kitchen to fetch some ice. I heard a clatter as a couple of ice cubes hit the tiled floor while Hunter tried to swath them in a tea towel.
“Thank you,” I said as Hunter gingerly handed me the ice pouch.

The chemistry was instant between me and Hunter, and I was all for exploring what else could grow. The next week yielded numerous opportunites for us to get better acquainted while we trawled florists for floral arrangements and best bargains. With Hunter’s fine tastes and strange apt for various types of plants and their blooming seasons teamed with my well-honed haggling skills, we were a formidable team. In a week, we had narrowed down the pages of the yellowpages to just three possible choices. 

“Hey Annie, why have you been smiling so much? I gotta tell you, it’s a little creepy,” Theo insisted as we had lunch on the roof. I replied that I hadn’t noticed my change in attitude at all. 
“No way! You’ve been seeing someone? I’m crushed that you haven’t told me. I thought we told each other everything,” he sniffed, pretending to look hurt after he’d insinuated my entire situation.
“Oh, stop your high school girl drama routine. I’m not seeing anyone. I just happen to like this guy who’s gonna be my partner at a friend’s wedding.” 
Theo sighed, “Annie… poor sweet innocent Annie… when are you going to wake up and accept that the ‘I’m an independent woman of the 21st century’ routine isn’t gonna keep you secure in your later years. I say this because I care… boink the guy and never leave yourself wonderin ‘what if?’ when you’re alone at home… an old maid.”

Words seemed a superfulous reply when my disgusted expression said it all.
“I gotta go,” I turned on my heels to leave and I could catch Theo shouting after me.
“Just promise you’ll consider it!”

That night I received a call from Aaron, wondering if I could hold on to Monty for a few more days. He promised to prepare me a week of gourmet dinners and a few dining vouchers at his restaurant. Other than the disasterous lunch, when my head met pavement, Monty hadn’t been anymore of a problem.
“Sure Aaron, whatever you need,” I agreed.
Later Kella rang, needing help with her wedding duties. Apparently, her partner hadn’t been as diligent or as enthusiastic as Hunter. I was fortunate in that regard.
“Yeah, I’ll be there in a half hour, and I’m bringing Monty.”
“Who–?”
I had already hung up and was on my way out when Eric appeared at my doorway, holding a bouquet of cream-coloured roses. His face was sunken and his whole frame weak.
“What’s the matter?”
“Another on of mummy’s dates. She got me on three per week. Where does she find all these misfits?”
He staggered into the house while I inquired about the flowers.
“She didn’t show.”
In Eric’s language, that meant that she did show, but when he arrived, he needed just one glance before running off, tail between his legs.
“She looked like Ms. Piggy from the Muppets,” he winged.
“Good fit. From some angles, you do resemble Kermit,” I retorted, remembering what it feels like to be stood up.
“Ah… I sense the resentment… where is it coming from?”
“You shouldn’t be such a coward and stand a girl up. At least have the dinner and then part ways as aquiantences, instead of leaving her there feeling unworthy!”
“I see… I’ve stood you up before, haven’t I?” he asked with mild concern.
“Several times. Anyway, you can stay here and mope or whatever, but I have a prior engagement.”
“With the Hunter guy?” Eric shot before the last syllable rolled off my tongue.
I crossed my arms - a typical defensive pose, and asked, “Does that bother you?”
Eric dropped the flowers on the coffee table and strutted to me, like I had somehow bruised his ego.
“What you do is none of my concern,” he said curtly, ripping the door open and stomping out.
I was fuming while I lingered at the doorway watching after him. Sometimes that man truly infuriated me with his indifference and insensitivity.  

I wasn’t much help to Kella in my foul disposition, which I could do little to hide. Nevertheless, I made a few suggestions from a list she had pulled up for me, reeling memories from the reviews I’d read about each company. It paid to be in the printed media business at times. It was nearly nine when I was done. I suddenly had no intention of going home, so Monty and I took a drive to the old pier. I strolled to the edge of the jetty and rested my elbows on the metal rails with its chipping paint. The crisp night air calmed my senses as I savoured every draw of breath. Monty settled on the concrete pavement by my heels, savouring the simple joy of licking himself. An odd sense of irony flashed in my mind. This was the exact spot Eric and I had our first date. It was nothing grand; merely two packs of fish and chips which we gobbled while sitting on the hood of his car gazing out at the horizon. I couldn’t understand for the life of me why I was thinking of that incosiderate ingrate at such a time. I let out a grumbled cry and stomped hard on the concrete, startling poor Monty.
“Sorry boy,” I cooed, scratching him behind the ears.
“What say we head home?” I asked and he was eager to oblige.

Before I knew it what with balancing work, Emma’s floral duties, and hanging out with Hunter, two weeks and gone by since my previous appointment with Dr. Emerson. Once again, I was prompt for my appointment and seated in the waiting lounge, thumbing through an old edition glossy fashion magazine.
“Miss, the doctor will see you now.”
A lady was exiting room five as I approached.
“I’ll see you next week, Ethan,” she gushed, with an obvious twinkle in her eyes.
I tried to conceal my disgust, but the death glare she shot me as she passed me was enough to make me think she was going to scratch my eyes out. I gulped and knocked on Dr. Emerson’s door. He gave me a polite reception and dived straight into his examination of my back.
“I have something to ask you,” he said once we were done.
Ba dumb…..Ba dumb… my heart pounded.
A blush was starting to creep. What was I thinking?

Note to self: Get a grip

I watched the soft drizzle outside from my kitchen counter, absent-mindedly clutching my mug of steaming coffee. Aaron had dropped Monty off earlier that morning as arranged, and promised that he wouldn’t be gone longer than a week. Monty now curled atop his large cushion in a deep sleep -obviously not a morning person or dog. It was now the late morning, and I had planned to spend my Sunday thumbing through the yellow pages for potential florists for Emma’s wedding, before taking Monty down to the dvd store, and renting a flick with Renee Zellweger and Ewan McGregor about the author of Peter Rabbit. Suddenly, the door bell chimed and my mobile buzzed simultaneously. I heard Eric’s voice at the door, so I knew he could wait, and dashed to grab my mobile.
“Hi! Is that Anne?” a deep voice asked.
I replied that it was and the caller introduced himself as Hunter Elliot. All I could manage as I opened the door for Eric was a drawled and vacant ”Uhuh?”
Eric pecked my cheek before dragging himself into the kitchen for some coffee. Hunter asked if I had a sliver of time in the day to catch up with him. I had to check my schedule; by that I meant with Eric, hence, I would have to call Hunter back. After hanging up, I found Eric slumped forward across my round breakfast table, empty coffee mug beside his limp hand.
“Rough night?” I commented, plopping down in the seat across from him.
“It was wild. Should have stayed home,” he groaned.
“What did you do?”
Eric lifted his head so I could view the seriousness in his rich cobalt eyes, and moaned, “Went to the parents for dinner.”
I stifled a laugh but this was a routine thing and I should have guessed that Eric would have bore the brunt of his parents’ overbearing pushes for him to find a nice girl and settle down.
“It gets worse everytime I go. Now they’ve resorted to inviting suitable matches over for dinner and organising this whole match-making session.”
Poor Eric, I thought. He was the sole product of two country club, grassroots retirees who only wanted him to settle down because they required grandbabies to even out their oh so perfect and wealthy lives. I had the misfortune of meeting Nora and Graham once, when Eric and I had been four months into dating. Yes, Eric and I had a short stint a few years back when we were both fresh out of university and looking for our first real jobs. Eric was an advertising genius; he could sell milk to cows if he wanted to. And I got my first job for a local magazine first launching myself as the writer of a tiny column about interesting events in the community. Now I’m the editor for that column and other smaller, less noted ones the magazine puts in to gain some sponser recognition. Shamelss tactic.
“What was she like?” I thought I’d ask.
Eric groaned and shook his head, indicating that it wasn’t worth the effort talking about.

Anyways, I thought it best to let him recover from his serious parental hangover and refrain for pressing questions regarding the night before. 
“So have to come here to rent a pretend girlfriend?” I sniggered. 
Eric rested his chin on the back of his hand, “Nah. It wouldn’t work, they’ve already met you. And by the way, I don’t remember why we’re not dating anymore.” 
“So typical of you to forget that you were such a playboy when we were dating that you insisted we weren’t compatible because you wanted to date the cute blonde coffeegirl at your office. So I said fine and we split. Broke my heart Eric.” 
“Then why are we still friends?” he asked, sincerely puzzled. 
I took a gulp of coffee and shrugged, “Cause I believe you’re a work in progress and now that our friendship has killed any chance of a romantic spark, I can have the best of both worlds.” 
It took a while for Eric to digest my abstract explanation so I decided to cut in and tell him about Emma’s wedding and Hunter. 
“A date? With a psychiatrist? Just what you need,” he grinned. 
Eric urged me to call Hunter back to arrange a meeting over lunch or something. Lunch dates were always the ultimate way to hint ‘we’re just friends, so don’t expect a dinner.’ I was still unsure about Hunter, but sooner or later we would have to meet, thus, no time like the present. 
“Pass me your cell, I’ll text him myself,” Eric said, determined. 
“I can do it myself, thank you very much.” 
I snatched the mobile back. Unfortunately, the ruckus had woken poor Monty up. The old beagle stretched and yawned dramatically to alert us of his presence. It was another thing I had to fill Eric in on. 

I had agreed to meet Hunter at a quaint Spanish restaurant a few blocks from my house. It was primarily so that I could walk with Monty and save on petrol cost. We sat in the alfresco area under a yellow and red umbrella. I tied Monty’s leash to the arm of my seat. I had to admit that I was anxious to see what Hunter looked like because he had a really lovely phone voice. It was shy, not arrogant, yet possessed a deep confidence imbedded in it. I was quite rivetted. Then suddenly, the image of my chiropractor flashed in my mind. They wouldn’t be the same person cause Hunter was a psychiatrist, I notioned and shook away the thought before my imagination ballooned it out of control. Finally, with my eyes shut whilst I muttered to myself to block out thoughts of Dr. Emerson, a soft ‘hello’ drifted into my ears. My eyes snapped opened and before me was a man with a golden tan and the warmest eyes you could imagine.
He reached out his hand, “Are you Anne? I’m Hunter, Hunter Elliot.”
We shook hands and he settled into the seat adjacent to mine. We decided to order some tapas for lunch.
“Is that your dog?” Hunter smiled, pointing at Monty.
“Dog-sitting, actually - for my neighbour.”
“That’s commendable. Emma told me you’re the one person she can always count on.”
I controlled a blush at his mesmerising smile, while his compliment melted my heart. Goodbye aimless thoughts of Dr. Emerson, hello Dr. Elliot! The conversation was enjoyable and then a thought popped into my giddy head. I had not even determined if this man was single. A quick glance at his fingers indicated no ring or sign of one previously. His dressing was sharp, yet not desperate like he was trying too hard for a date. It was a wonder with his physique coupled with his gentle disposition that girls weren’t tearing each other to bits for this yummy man. Then it hit me: he was gay. He read the slight dissappointment on my face and asked most concernedly what was wrong?
I tried to mask the quick stab in my heart and made up an excuse that the chillied squid was too spicy. He waved for the waiter to fetch a glass of water. “This man was perfect,” I sniffed.
“There, feeling better?”
“Please tell me you’re single and straight,” I blurted - my mouth and brain obviously out of sync.
The whole street had gone awkwardly silent. Hunter released a sheepish chuckle and racked through his hair with his fingers. I wanted to run.
Then he looked dead at me and said, “Yes, to both your criteria.”
Now I felt like I was going to faint, but instead I apologised profusely for the embarrassment. Hunter laughed in amusement and insisted that no harm was done, with a reassurance that I felt was genuine. It was just about the time that we settled the bill that Monty awoke with a start and on instinct decided to lunge for a pigeon pecking away at the pavement. For an old dog, his strength was undoubtedly remarkable and before I knew it, my legs were flying over my head as my plastic chair was yanked violently, flipping the chair back. I was out for a while, but a soothing voice called to me, urging me to open my eyes. I felt warm breath waft over my face as I tried to lift my eyelids.
“You alright?” Hunter’s voice soon became apparent as I emerged from the fog of unconsciouness.
I felt his hand supporting the back of my head while his other hand was on my back, steadying me upright.
“Good girl,” he breathed, like a father would to his daughter.
He gently swung my arm over his shoulder and hoisted me off my feet.
“You live a couple of blocks down, don’t you?” he double-checked, grabbing Monty’s leash tightly in his free hand. 
Hunter nobly carried me all the way home and even into my house so that he could lay me on the sofa.
“Hey, what happened?” Eric asked unexpectedly hobbling down from the upstairs shower in nothing but a towel.
He and Hunter exchanged astonished stares, while I tried to sink deeper into the sofa so that I would blend and not have to explain anything.

Note to self: Find out more about Hunter

The cab made a U-turn and fifteen minutes later came to a halt outside the Granville Community Centre. I pushed through the threshold to find Megan wild with frenzy organising a decorations commitee while they strung streamers and balloons around the walls of the community hall.
“Oh! You’re here. Thank goodness! It’s a disaster!”

Megan had devoted her life to reinventing the Granville Community Centre because it had been where she had spent all her time as a child. Even into her teenage years, Megan would organise seniors bingo nights, dinners and dances, and every fortnight a soup kitchen  for the homeless and poor. Megan and I had a providential meeting when I was assigned to write an article about her and her community centre. We stayed friends long after the article and she had even roped me in countless times as a helper during her soup kitchen days.
“I have a high school dance in less than five hours and my decorations people have just arrived!” Megan explained breathlessly, tapping anxiously on her clipboard.
I studied the hall, looking nothing fit for a dance that evening. Walls were still bare, tables were still folded and stacked at the far end, and the music and light crews were on the stage, lost in a tangle of wires. I had never seen Megan this flustered. She was almost pale and I feared she was either about to hyperventilate or rip all her hair out from the way she was tugging at the mess of frizz nesting on her head.
“May I?” I said softly, loosening the clipboard from her deadly grip and scanning the arrangement plans.
I’d never had much experience with events planning but I knew that Megan was in no state to command such a crazy operation. I had to step up, I thought, or else this poor do-gooder would have to admit herself into a mental institution before the night could wear in. I was used to datelines anyway; all my supervisor ever spoke to me about was datelines. It was like her whole vocabulary comprised dates and times. It must have been vexing for her to order lunch or give directions - ‘4th of March club sandwich, go left at 1.45′ I imagined, allowing myself a small chuckle.
“What’s funny? Is it the arrangement? It was what the school board wanted!” Megan interrupted, panicked once again.
“No no, the arrangements look fine. My mind just drifted,” I explained soothingly.
Megan’s hand shot over her heart as she heaved a deep, relieved sigh.
“Look Megan, why don’t you go handle the stream of helpers with the table arrangements and I’ll deal with the stage crew.”
Without argument, Megan made a beeline for the table committee. It took another hour before things were moving like clockwork. Flowers had arrived, the lighting crew dangled strings of fairy lights over the main dancefloor, the sound crew were starting checks, and the tables were clothed and decorated with an array of artificial vines and confetti. My lunch dates had been ringing me non-stop to confirm how much longer I was going to be, since it was past 3pm and I was a no show. I had tried convincing them that perhaps another time would be better as I would be indisposed for a few more hours and then probably be too tired and head home. However, they were quite adament that we met. We made plans then to catch up at a cafe near my place for a quick coffee at five. I was on the clock now. But I had to stop and savour the complete and utterly spectacular transformation of the hall. I wouldn’t have thought it would look almost ready and on schedule when I first glanced the state it was in when I arrived.

By 4.30pm, all was finished, as I witnessed the final touch - the welcome banner - being strung over the main doors. Megan was completely converted from her frazzled self to one of incesssant thanks.
“Oh! It looks marvelous. I couldn’t have done it without you, Annie!”
She threw her arms around me as joyful tears left her eyes.
“Won’t you stay for the dance? You’re more than welcome to after all you’ve done.”
“I can’t, Meg. I have a prior engagement that I must attend.”
I ignore her dissapointed pout and waved goodbye to the committee before dashing into the streets for a cab.

I was exhausted as I entered the cafe where my friends were eagerly waiting. All three of them wore grins form ear to ear, hence I had to wonder if I had missed something. 
“What’s going on girls?”
 Iris was the first to speak up, as I suspected she could contain herself no further.
“Emma and Jay are getting married!” 
Emma was a sexy redheaded accountant. She and her now fiance, Jay, had been on again-off again for the last five years. I congratulated Emma, who flashed me her brilliant diamond signet engagement ring. It nearly blinded me.
“So the date’s set for August, and I want you all to be my bridesmaids,” Emma demanded, pulling out peach-coloured assignment sheets from her bag for each of us. I skimmed through mine; apparently I was the floral coordinator. Iris was entertainment, and Kella was catering. Phew, I thought, I must have scored the easiest job.

“Oh, but that’s not the only news,” Kella nudged me.
I furrowed my brow, dreading what more there could be on this happy occasion. Emma cleared her throat in an exaggerated fashion and looked at me.
“Iris and Kella already have partners to walk them down the aisle, but Annie, you’ve been single for a while now, so I had Jay pick one of his friends for you to partner.”
She stressed on the word single, but I tried to let that slide because I knew none of them comprehended the serious art of staying single. But in reply to Emma’s announcement, I simply agreed to it and somehow threw in a thanks. “His name is Hunter, and he’ll help you  out with your duties,” Emma added.
“I’m sure you’ll like him,” Kella clapped cheerfully, still trying to sell me the idea.
“He’ll call you tomorrow,” Iris put in.
This was where I began to get suspicious about everyone’s motives; and I didn’t like it one bit. Before we said our goodbyes, Emma noted one last thing, “Oh, and he’s a psyciatrist.”
“Great, just what I needed,” I said with a lack of luster, which I excuse as exhaustion when questioned.

Note to self: Find a florist

I live in one of those tall terrace houses with maple trees lining the pavement outside. I love my house. My grandmother had left it to me when she had passed. I used to spend many childhood years in this house with my grandmother and I love the memories the place retained.
“10 a.m., yes thank you. I’ll be there.”
I lowered the phone into its cradle, and bent back slightly to confirm the still present crick in it. I thanked the heavens that it was Saturday. No work; no deadlines. I decided a short walk to the grocers’ markets was in order, since my fridge was bare of anything remotely edible. I was a fan of take out. It seemed ideal for someone who usually had late nights in the office several times a week. The grocers was usually packed with throngs of whole-salers stocking up for their small businesses and regular people out for fresh produce.
“Hey Anne! Decided to wake up before noon?”
“Yeah, thought I’d try something new. How’ve you been, Aaron?”
Aaron Mackenzie lived a few houses away from me with his beagle, Monty. He was a stocky fellow a few years older than me, with ginger hair and a pale complexion. Unfortunately, Aaron was recently another victim of divorce; a cruel blow after a five-year marriage to his childhood sweetheart. We wandered around the markets together. Aaron was always a great conversationalist on topics such as art, music, and most of all, food. He worked as a chef in a quiant yet exquisite restaurant nestled in the expensive side of the city centre.
“So Anne, what are your plans tomorrow?” he asked while I picked some navel oranges.
I shrugged and joked, “Probably sleeping till noon?”
He guffawed so animatedly that he almost knocked over a crate of peaches. 
“Could I ask you a favour then?” he attempted shyly. 
I huffed a huge breath as I paid the vender for the oranges, “Whatever you need.” 
“I have to go on a short trip out of town tomorrow, and I was hoping someone could watch Monty for a few days. I know it’s a big ask, but he’s not going to be a big disruption.”
 Aaron was right; it was a big ask. However, one look into those innocent coffee pools compelled me to help him out and so I agreed. It seemed like a nice thought to have some company in the house.  
“Thanks Anne, I’ll bring him over at 8 tomorrow morning.”

At 9.55 that morning, I was reading a gossip magazine in the waiting room of a chiropractic clinic. 
“Ms. Wright, the doctor’s ready for you in Room 5,” the nurse behind the counter squeaked, fumbling to answer a ringing telephone. I gave a small smile and attempted to locate Room 5 down the navy blue carpeted hallway. Needless to say, I would have shot myself if I’d missed the big 5 painted over the length of the door. With a small knock, I pressed my ear against the door to listen for a ‘Come in’. I hung my denim jacket on the provided coat rack and waited while the brunette doctor with his back to me fiddled with some files.
“Take a seat on the table Ms. Wright,” he instructed, setting down a stack of cream manila folders.
“I’m Dr. Emerson and–”
There was an awkward pause as he pivoted on his heel to face me. Suddenly, I recognised who he was. The strange brunette from the night before who kept inquiring about my missing date, approached me on the table slowly. 
“Wow, this is weird,” I coughed, as he flipped opened the manila folder in his hands. I caught a distinct snort from his direction.
“I’ll need you to er… fill these forms out…Ms. Wright, because it’s your first consultation.” 
He slipped the folder into my ready hands and noticing that I was deprived of a pen, pulled his out of his clinical coat pocket and tapped it on the folder. I sensed his eyes on me the entire time I spent filling out the prying form.
“And the signature, that should do it.”
He gently reached for the folder and scanned it.
“Anne, huh?” he read cheekily, tipping his brows up.
“Look, there’s like patient:doctor privacy or something. So I’m really hoping you’re not planning to stalk me,” I said with the distinct hint of a warning in my tone.
“Stalking’s not my style. I usually start of with an invitation to dinner and if that doesn’t work out, I just send an onslaught of anonymous phonecalls and gifts.”
I was about to jump off the table, grab my coat and race out of that room cause this guy was a psycho. Change my name, apologise to Aaron that I would be moving out, and searching the newspaper for a place to rent, would be the next steps. Noticing the discomfort plastered on my expression, Dr. Emerson spoke.
“Ms. Wright, I was just kidding… about everything. And yes, we do have doctor:patient privacy so don’t worry. Now, please relax and lie down.”
I decided to take a deep breath and lower myself on the table, because my back was starting to kill me again. After a thorough examination and a few alignment exercises, tweaks here and there, I felt a sweet relief in my ailling back. For a cocky guy, the doctor did have extremely soothing hands.
“All fixed. I think you should lay off the heavy lifting for a while,” he concluded.
“Ho- how did you know?” I asked, astounded.
“You’re not the first patient I’ve had who’s done their back in after abusing their body’s lifting capacity. It’s more common than you think,” he explained, picking up my folder and clicking his pen before scribbling something onto the sheet.
“Come back and see me in two weeks. The nurses outside will set up an account for you and give you an appointment card,” he offered a tight smile as he slipped the pen back into his pocket.
“I’m sorry if I was rude earlier. But thanks, my back feels much better.”
“You’re welcome,” he replied simply and deeply.

I had a lunch appointment with a few girl-friends that afternoon and after the check-up, hopped into a cab and hurried to meet them. I jolted when my mobile chimed; it was Megan.
“I’m having an emergency, Anne. I need some help. Could you swing by my place?”
Times like these I wished these people would call Dr. Phil or Oprah instead. But in the end, I said, “Sure, whatever you need.”

Note to self: Make an appointment with a psychiatrist.

The alarm buzzed… I knew I had to get up, but my aching body wouldn’t budge as I rolled over on my back. I quelled a cry as a snap erupted from my back. I heaved a heavy breath, almost regreting having helped my good friend, Eric, move into his new apartment the night before. Hauling up that oak cupboard had truly done my back in. As I lied in bed contemplating a possible excuse to stay home from work, my mobile phone chimed. I looked at the caller’s name flashing on the phone’s face; it was my friend Theo. 
“What’s up, Theo?” I slurred tiredly. 
“I need some advice, Annie. What time will you be in?” 
He spoke faster than a bullet train. Hence, I knew there could only be one thing he needed my advice for. ‘Women Trouble’. 
“I’ll be in soon. Meet ya at the usual spot,” I finally replied. 
After a hot shower and a bowl of Fruit Loops, I was out the door and in my car, joined by fellow commuters racing down the freeway to the city.  
I found Theo on the roof of the building where he and I worked.
“Here,” I said, handing him a grande machioato.
“Thanks,” he answered shakily.
“You gonna jump or what?”
“Don’t tease, Anne. I’m really having problems. Chick I’ve been on like two dates with won’t stop calling,” he growled.
“Who? Mimi? I thought you liked her?”
“Yeah, I did. But she’s just way to boring for me, Anne. I gotta cut her.”
“I can’t believe you. But, honestly. This is so like you.”
Theo nodded, “So what’s the plan, Anne? You always find a way to bail me out.”
“Let me think about it, but you know that all it’s gonna take is for you to call her and break it off.”
Theo nodded again, but he wore an unconvinced smirk.
“So will you help me?”
He uttered every word with a hint of guilt that I couldn’t quite fault him for his predicament of being trapped by a clinging woman. Nevertheless, when it came to my friends, the words that usually sealed the deal for my participation in their hair-brained schemes escaped my mouth, “Whatever you need.”
By lunch we had concocted a brilliant plan to invite Mimi to dinner and if Theo couldn’t break it off by himself, I would pose as his pretend girlfriend and hopefully, Mimi will have to dump Theo on the basis of infidelity. 
I was about to leave work after a hectic day of networking and finishing an editorial I’d been working on, when I received another call. It was Eric. 
“Hey, what are you doing tonight?” 
“Helping out Theo with a break-up.” 
“Awesome. Can I join in?” 
“Shouldn’t you be unpacking in your new space?” 
“Nah. Save that for a weekend when you can help out,” Eric laughed. 
“Har har. In that case I’ll just have to avoid your calls. Anyways, I have to do this thing with Theo, so we’ll have to catch up some other time.” 
“Okay… Gosh, you’re flat today.”
“Yeah, I’m flat out, more like it.”
Eric said a quick goodbye as the doorbell chimed in the distance and hung up. 

A quick shower, my cocktail dress, a light gloss and powder and out the door again. I flagged a cab and was at the restaurant a half-hour early. I waited on a bench outside and watched as Theo and Mimi strolled passed me and into the restaurant. 
“Hi miss, did your date stand you up?”
I looked up from my bench to find a tall gentleman standing beside me. He was a gentle-faced brunette with an adorably charming grin. My heart skipped a beat as I tried to maintain my focus on Theo’s situation. 
“Erm… look, I’m waiting for someone, so if you wouldn’t mind…” my voice trailed off as I craned my neck to spy Theo. 
“Are you a jibbed girlfriend or something? You seem to be eyeballing that guy in the a blue shirt in there? Your ex?” the stranger asked. 
“Look buddy, I’m kinda busy here. So maybe you might want to interrogate someone else,” I replied vacantly. 
The stranger appeared to take the hint at that point and moved off. The scene in the restaurant had suddenly escalated and I noticed Mimi shouting hysterically and Theo staring straight at me to jump in. I rushed in, hoping to calm the situation. The maitre’d and a few puzzled waiters hovered around the scene. 
“He’s dumping me. After the best dates of my life!” Mimi screeched. 
Theo could only brandish his open palms in surrender while coaxing her to control her nerves. 
I pushed past a waiter and right beside Theo.
“Who’s this?” Mimi sniffed. 
Theo gasped for an explanation and looked to me for assistance. 
“Oh, I’m just a friend passing by. What seems to be the problem?” 
I hadn’t taken Mimi for a dense individual but she didn’t ask me any further questions about my odd presence and the offering of help. Instead. she bawled her sorrows of her sudden dumping and before anyone said another word, she was darting out of the restaurant and into the streets wailing. Before the shock had worn off Theo and the restaurant staff alike, I picked up the menu and seated myself. 
“So Theo, you’re off the hook. The least you could do is buy me dinner,” I said. 
“Phew, that was easy enough. And you didn’t even have to kiss me,” Theo finally said as he settled back into his seat. 
“Gross, kissing you would be like kissing my brother, Theo.” 
I decided on ordering a salad as a starter and the poached salmon as a main course. 
“I’m definitely having something chocolate for dessert on your tab.” 
“Hey, I don’t mind. I’m a free man.” 

After a great dinner, Theo decided to hit a new night club for a fresh date, and I ambled down the street to catch a cab home. My back was still killing me.

Note to self: Fix an appointment with a chiropractor.  
 

I feel every drop fall over me 

Nature’s miracle yet mystery

Coming clean under the sky

Blazes of lightning start to cry

I begin to dance to the rhythm

Washed and feeling forgiven

Redeeming myself simple and pure

Still searching for what I was made for

Let go and soak it in

All the sins lost in solemn apology

Made my peace with patient respect

Let’s leave the past at that

Walk on and feel whatever I want

The rain will go and come

I will always have that one last dance

But now I will catch every new chance

One smile and I smile

One laugh and I laugh

All it takes for me to have fun

Is to be one

Sometimes it’s like dancing on fire

Sometimes it’s walking on water

Sometimes I just want to run

But then I’m not one

All I know is my heart yearns

And my mind aches

 I can’t find the sun

Until I am one

Two divided, unable to touch

I fall further, reaching for freedom

Only then have I begun

I can become one.