A Tale of Two Sisters Ch. 03

I walked really fast; why, what's the hurry I wondered? I got to her front door and knocked.

Virna opened it, "What? You're back?"

"I called in sick. I never finished my pizza."

"But I have to be at the Eagles Nest in twenty minutes"

"You can call out sick too."

She pulled the door all the way open, "Go in the kitchen."

As I walked to the kitchen I heard her call the Eagles Nest. She was back in the kitchen a second later. I was sitting at the table again. She looked at me, "This better be good."

"Where's the rest of the pizza," I asked?

She went to the refrigerator, pulled it out, stuck two pieces on a paper plate and shoved them in the microwave, "It'll be a minute."

"That's not really why I'm here and you know it."

She stood beside the microwave, "You're really scaring me."

I got up and stood beside her, "I'm scared too."

I was holding her by her elbows and she had her hands on my waist. The expression on Virna's face, the adoration I saw in her eyes told the tale. She was looking at me the same way she looked at Tammy. I wondered if she realized it.

That's when Tammy walked in. Tammy just sort of walked kind of sidled over to the two of us. She put her arms around the two of us; it was a stretch. She looked up, "You like my mom's pizza?"

I glanced at Virna and her eyes were watery. I felt kind of damp too. I replied rather huskily, "Yeah, it's pretty good,"

I thought right then and there, right in Virna's kitchen something really profound was about to happen, and I know Virna did too.

But Virna cut it off; she bent down and started fussing over Tammy, "You've got tomato on your cheek, and you hair's a mess," she nervously grabbed her daughter's arm and started for the stairs, looking back she said, "I've got a problem here," here meaning Tammy, "I'll call you in a day or so. You can see yourself out," and just that fast she disappeared up the stairs.

I walked back out to my car and called work back up. I told them I'd be in after all. My supervisor said not to bother somebody else was coming in, but I should check my schedule as I'd be doing some extra hours. I agreed and hung up.

I went home, and after a cold shower I sat down and weighed my options. First there was no doubt Virna did love me; shit she loved the shit right out of me, she'd probably loved me all along. Second, I had to own up to the fact that, if I didn't love her, and I thought I did, I could never let anyone else have her, certainly not Morgan. I just didn't see her being paraded around in front of a pack of men, men all like him. It unnerved me to think of her being flaunted about like a piece of livestock. I'll say that long black leather coat couldn't have been more meaningful than if he'd locked a collar around her neck.

That gave me pause to think a little further. Would I feel any differently if it was Allen or Owen, or any of a dozen white men I knew? The answer hit home like a steely knife; I didn't care who it was. In my mind only one man was suitable for Virna, and as I stood in my bathroom looking into that frosty mirror I knew beyond all doubt who that man was.

But what about Virna? She loved me sure. She loved Marty too. She loved Tammy too. Who came first? That was a no brainer. If I were Virna the clinical logical choice would be the Hopkins cardiologist; he had his career in place, he had money, and he had status. Me, I was still an untested nonentity. Sure I had a job; a good job by most standards, and yes I was still in school. Physician's assistants made very good money, they had respect too, but they weren't doctors, and they sure weren't Hopkins men.

Now I'm not a sentimental kind of guy, but my foster parents were old fashioned country music people. When I was a tyke, maybe nine or ten my foster dad liked this music group, Shenandoah I think it was. They had this song, 'The Moon over Georgia.' It was about this country boy who had no money and few prospects, but he loved this girl. However, there was this really rich man who owned half the state of Georgia and who also wanted her. The poor boy knew he didn't stand a chance, but guess what; yeah, in the song the girl blew off the country clubs, the yachts, the race horses, and half the wealth in the state for what? She took the Moon over all the wealth in Georgia.

Would Virna choose me over fancy suits and black leather coats? Well I thought that one over. What did Hopkins have that I didn't have? OK he had money; he had trips to New York, memberships on probably half dozen country clubs, maybe a home in Florida. He could take her to Paris, London, Venice, he could buy her clothes. Tammy would get private schools and the private dance lessons. That's what he had.

What did I have; well not much here in Western Maryland, but if I got her home. Yeah, oh yeah If I got her back home on the Eastern Shore I had the ocean, Assateague Island, Pony Penning, the Sinepuxent Bay, blue Marlin, flounder, oysters, crabs, and I had my family.

I cringed, except for my family none of that meant anything. They weren't things that separated me from the doctor. Well what did I have? There had to be something.

For shit's sake was I just a pathetic nobody with nothing to show for a quarter century of hard work? No there was something, well sort of. I had my love. I could give her my love, and that came with an unequivocal no cheat total fidelity guarantee, plus a full unrequited lifetime promise of affection and devotion. I believed these were things no Hopkins man or any man could match. I had these traits because I had foster parents who; like choosing a single puppy from a sandbox full of puppies had picked me.

I wasn't born into a happy caring nurturing family I was picked out to be in one. I never earned it. I wasn't born into it. I was given it. I remembered when I was little; the group homes, the isolation, and the loneliness. My foster mom and dad didn't have to come get me, but they did. Oh it might sound stupid, but I've heard kids say stupid shit like, "I didn't ask to be born."

I was being stupid, I knew it, but I did have something. I knew the value of a loving family. I knew because I got one, and not because I was born into it, I got picked to be a part of it.

I went to bed and dreamed about Virna. I saw her in a clean spotless country kitchen. She was wearing a big colorful apron. A big table was set and four, five, no six kids were all seated around it. I saw a big no a heaping plate of fried chicken. It was flanked by massive bowls of Cole slaw and potato salad. Two, no three pies were on the counter; a big apple, a cherry, and a mince meat pie, a chocolate frosted cake hovered nearby. Out back through the window I saw a barn; there were ponies in the barn, I could hear them whinny.

I sat at that dream table and looked through the portal to the family room. Out there on the wall of the family room there were pictures; there was a picture of my foster mom and dad, and a picture of the old people, my foster dad's parents. In those pictures the people were smiling approvingly at me. I was being a good and loyal son and grandson; damn it no man could match that.

Down the road in my fantasy I saw my foster dad's truck coming up the dirt lane. It was Sunday, time for Sunday dinner. I had family. I was a family man. Virna was my wife. They were my kids. I woke up. Shit it was just a dream.

I got up and wiped the sleep from my eyes. I stumbled into the bathroom. While I stood there over the toilet, still in a half stupor draining my bladder I realized I had something to do, something important, something life changing. I was about to become a man with a mission.

*****

This is the end of part three.