mary van milligen

So, every good story has to have the beginnings of a relationship, right? In the following scene from my novel, The Glimpse Gift, Hope’s life takes another slight turn; this turn makes her almost run off the road.  This is the last of a series of three excerpts I’m sharing.  Looking forward to publishing it one day so you can absorb the rest. Enjoy!

My foresight gave me a little additional time to plan my response, but it didn’t prepare me for my other reaction. I look at the nurse’s aid for a moment; I think she senses my hesitation because she stares at me for a response. I slowly turn around to share my prescribed answer when I see the man that joined the conversation, and my breath escapes me.

The nice, evenly toned voice came from an attractive and beautifully built man. He had olive skin, a mixture of blue and green compassionate eyes, and brown, wavy hair that was a little unkempt and curled at the ends.  He is the perfect height.  This handsomely ideal man stands in front of me at an imperfect time.  Regardless of the difficult circumstance, I can actually feel a pulsating energy trying to pull me near him the moment I look his direction.  I swiftly turn back towards the nurse’s station and mouth the word “wow” to the young lady behind the counter.  She nods in agreement, looks down, smiles, and continues sorting through her paperwork.  The man repeats his last comment.  He tilts his head and asks “do you want me to take the flowers to Simon’s room?”

I look back at him and get lost in his magnetizing eyes for a second. He holds contact with me and creates more awkwardness for me.  He smiles, and my heart jolts. This feeling, although pleasant, makes me nervous, anxious, and distracted.  I never really react like this.  I turn back towards him again and continue to be taken with him. He’s classically handsome.  There’s something inviting about him and his demeanor. But he’s not alone.  He has an adorable companion…a golden retriever.

After staring at him for a few seconds, he interrupts my romantic thoughts and tries to ignite my speechless mouth when he asks again “Well, what do you say?”

“Hi.” I smile.  I reach my hand out to shake his.  He grabs my hand to return the exchange.  He had a nice, firm shake.

He looks at me while we shake hands, smiles again and introduces himself. “I’m Nathan. Nice to meet you.”

Looking at his four legged friend I ask “And this is?”

“This good lookin’ guy is Atticus.”

“Atticus. I love that name. Love that book.” I throw my purse up on the station counter next to the flowers and kneel down to Atticus. I put my hands behind his ears, and he starts to lean his body into mine when I do this.

“He really likes you.”

“You like me?” I ask Atticus. “You’re a good boy. You’re a very good boy”.  I keep talking and playing with the dog for a moment. The furry distraction gives me a chance to figure out how to get the flowers to the room myself.

“My mother was always a big fan of To Kill a Mockingbird, and the second I saw this big guy wisely looking my way as a pup, I thought it fit.”

“Well, it certainly does” I reply. Then I ask, “What is Atticus doing here?”

“Oh, he and I volunteer once a week to visit the patients. It’s a therapeutic program that lets the dogs take people’s minds off their problems. On your way out, there’s a line of pictures up in the hallway with the pets and the owners.  Our pic is third from the end.  This big, affectionate bum has much nicer hair in the photo than I do.   The pediatric unit requests us most of his time, but he’s developed a special bond with Simon.”

“Wow, that’s great. He’s a fun, calming distraction. I wasn’t aware that they had that program here.” I stop petting the dog and start to reach for my purse. Then, the awkward silence joins our conversation.  It forces a lot of smiling, fidgeting while running my fingers through my hair, and frequent looks down the hallway. I want to keep talking to him, but I have to get to Simon. “I should really get these to the patient’s room.”

I smile again and turn to take the flowers. The nurse looks at me and says “I can just deliver those to Simon’s room, dear.”

“Oh no, it’s really ok. I don’t mind.  What room number is it?” Oh great.  My plan is backfiring.  How do I get out of this situation? Oh yeah…I was going to tell them that I knew someone in Simon’s family.  But I don’t have to build my case for admittance at all; my schoolgirl reaction to Nathan works in my benefit.

The nurse continues and says, “Seriously, I’ll take them” and then she stops and shifts her way of thinking. “Actually, better yet, I think Nathan should walk you down to the patient advocate desk so he can tell you more about our “Pets for People” program, and on the way, he can guide you to Simon’s room.”

“What?” I shockingly look back at the nurse.

She insists “Go ahead. I’m sure Nathan doesn’t mind.  You two seem to be getting along.  It will give the two of you more of a chance to get to know one another.”

He adds “It’s no problem at all. Let me show you the way. I’d be happy to” he says as he nods his head in agreement with the nurse.

I realize what she is doing. Overall, I’m not the type of girl that would give her a sly wink and walk away with this dashing young sire and his pup. At this second, I want to yell at her. I feel like she’s intruding on my life the way my sister always does. This isn’t part of the plan today, and I desperately have to find Simon.  My gratuitous reaction to the wavy haired attraction encourages her middle school need to set up a “friend”.  I hate being forced into conversations with guys.  It’s like when my parents urged me to eat Brussel sprouts.  I know they are going to be good for me at the end of the day, but it’s an awful, disgusting tasting process.

Irritated, I turn towards Nathan and quickly remember that Nathan clearly has no compatibility with a Brussel sprout.  He’s a warm, fresh out of the oven chocolate chip cookie.  He appears to be the perfectly burnt pieces of cheese on the corner of a lasagna pan.  Either I am already unabashedly smitten with this man or I clearly didn’t eat enough at breakfast.  I make eye-contact with him, and then his glance holds mine again. I look down to the floor. I can always tell when a man is interested in me by the way he looks at me.  If he just slightly holds contact a tad longer than the average person, I can feel it.  And if I can maintain the contact, I’m toast. Around this man, I was burnt toast. He also raises his eyebrows a lot when he looks at me-another good sign.  Pulling softly on Atticus’ leash, Nathan nudges him “Come on, buddy”, and then we start down the hallway together. Our bodies only a few inches apart, we walk together in a slow, steady pace.

“How long have you been delivering flowers? Please, allow me. Let me take those for you.”  He begins to grab them before I can even agree to this kind gesture, and in a beautiful and gentlemanly way, Nathan manages to guide his dog, carry my flowers, and escort me to the patient’s room.

After a little childish gawking from me towards him, I finally answer his question. “About two years now. And I’m not usually the  delivery person.  I own the little flower shop on the corner of Third and Comet Drive downtown.  It’s called Tulip or Not Tulip?

Nathan smirks. Then he excitedly tells me, “Oh yeah. I’ve seen your place. It’s got the gigantic bright green door.  That door is a great marketing technique.  You can’t miss your shop.”

“My friend painted the door.”

“ You are pretty young to own your own shop.”

“I had a great investor that helped me build it, and my assistant   Maggie thought it would be a good idea to paint the door a bright color so it would be easy to find if the world suddenly came to an end, and we needed a safe house.”

He looked at me confused. “Interesting.”

“Sorry, it’s a long story, and you would just have to know Maggie or Mags. I call her Mags. She has a lot of conspiracy theory beliefs. She feels that an apocalypse is always plausible.  But you’re right. It definitely does catch a person’s eye easily. Fortunately, the window displays surrounding the door contain a lot of beauty to distract from the obnoxious nature of the door itself.”

“Clever name, Tulip or not Tulip?  Instead of to be or not to be?  Are you a big Shakespeare fan?”

“Well, I do seem to see my life as part comedy and tragedy just like he did. How about you?  What do you do?  Besides spending some of your days here volunteering.”

“I actually work a few miles down the way from you near Pierce and Harbor St. It’s an antique shop. It’s my parents , and I somewhat inherited it about a year ago.  Before that, I lived in Philadelphia and wrote for The Chronicle.

“A writer?”

“Well, I use to be. I used to be an investigative reporter.”

“That’s quite a career change.”

“The universe threw a curve ball and called me back here.”

“Life can do that.”

He stops, looks around, and then he points to the left. He smiles at me again and says, “Sorry. I got turned around for a second.  The room you’re looking for is just down this way.”

After that quick left, we turn right.

“So, did you grow up here?” I ask.

“Yep. I went away to school, but after my father passed…”

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear about your father.”

“He was sick for a long time.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, too. Was that the curve ball?”

“Mostly, I went to school out east and then after Dad died, there was kind of a force let’s say that brought me back to this area and encouraged me to stay. What about you?  Are you from this area too?”

“Somewhat. I grew up a couple of hours away from here. My sister lives close by.”

“What about your parents?”

“My Mom is still back home.”

“And your Dad? Does he live near you and your sister?”

“Nope. You and I seem to have something in common.”

“Sorry. How long ago did he pass?”

“You know. If you don’t mind, I’d rather not talk about that right now.”

I shouldn’t have made him feel bad for asking. He apologizes “No, sorry.  I get it.”  We turn left again.

“That’s ok” I say.

As we come to the end of the hallway, Nathan starts to tell me more about his shop.

“If you ever get a chance, you should swing by the store some time. It’s Charlotte’s Antiques.”

“Oh Yeah. I know that place.” I smile and tell him “I’ll think about it. I definitely have interest in one item, but I don’t think it’s for sale.

“Well, I hope you do.”

Atticus briefly halts our walk when he sits down for a moment to scratch the back of his left ear.

“How’s business?”

“Decent. When I took over the store, I started to write short stories about the pieces. Buyers seem to enjoy reading about the history of the owner of the product. Since we have a pretty strong inventory of local connections to the pieces, it’s actually made sales increase. It personalizes it. It’s definitely making my work there more meaningful as well. How about you?”

“Great. People never seem to not want flowers.  There’s always some type of situation or occasion when they need them.”

“Like today” Nathan points out as he nods his head towards the vase holding my newest creation.

Grinning, then quickly turning my head, I affirmatively agree, “like today.” And before I know it, we approach the hallway to Simon’s room. I don’t really want the conversation to end.  When I look up at Nathan, I notice him start to get a little nervous, and then I do too.  Then he adds, “Look”. He smiles again and darts his blue/green eyes away from mine for a moment.  Then he starts, “I know we just met, but I was wondering if…”

Before even thinking, I rudely cut him off and say, “oh my gosh. What time is it?”  I rummage through my purse and immediately grab my phone. Then I stupidly explain,” sorry to cut off our conversation, but I should probably get going.  I completely forgot about my next delivery, so I better get a move on. I’m sorry.  So great to meet you, Nathan.”  I kneel down towards the darling dog and whisper, “Nice to meet you, Atticus” and rub the fur behind his ears.

Then Nathan reciprocates, “You too, I’m sorry I don’t think I ever caught your name.”

I smile and say, “I’m Hope. Hope Dempsey.”

“Well, Miss Hope Dempsey” he repeats. He looks down at the floor for a second and reveals “I enjoyed talking to you.”

“Me too.”

“I wish that I could…”

Then, I quickly interject, “You know what. I really got to get going right now. Again, it was so great to meet you.”

“Oh yeah, I totally understand. Sorry. I understand. Maybe I will see you around again sometime. By the way, the room you are looking for is 437.”

“Thanks so much, Nathan.”

“Sure.”

And then we keep looking at each other. Finally I state the obvious, “The flowers?”

“What?” he asks. He forgot that he’d been carrying them for me.

“The flowers? Oh yeah…yeah, the flowers” and he starts to laugh.  “ I suppose you need to have the flowers in order to deliver them.”

I laugh and say “that’s usually an important component.”

“Probably the most important component.”

“Right.”

“Right.”

He makes me lose my breath a little when I catch eyes with him one more time, and the only thing I can do is repeat the last word I utter, “Right.” What is happening?  Why did I have to meet him right now…in the midst of my saintly assignment?  I don’t want to leave him right now.

But, I have to walk away from him. I turn towards him without really looking at him, grab the flowers, and walk away.  Actually, I think I almost run away from him.  When I pull the flowers away, I accidently cover my hand over his hand, and I move it away so fast. Each step becomes packaged and wrapped with tiny regret. I feel a burden of sadness as I depart. I am clearly drawn to him, but right now, I am being drawn to something else that needs my full attention