Nurse Penny

For all my addiction to men young enough to be my sons, I wasn't blind to their attributes. They were the equivalent of meringue; light and sweet and tasty, but ultimately unfulfilling as a meal. Like sugar, they had no substance. Mike, on the other hand, was a cut of prime steak. Fulfilling and best eaten slowly so as to savour.

"Who's that woman?" I hated being put in the position of having to ask but my need to know outweighed my reluctance to reveal my vulnerability.

Geoff turned his head to look at Mike and the blonde and smiled. "Oh, that's Andrea."

Again, Geoff was being infuriating, answering only my immediate question and not offering anything extra.

"Is she here with anyone? Is she married?" Hopefully, having asked two questions at once I'd get two answers in short order.

"Yes and no."

I was tired and stressed, making it even harder than usual to remain patient.

"Is that, yes she's here with someone and no she's not married?"

"Yes."

The unease in my gut grew and part of me wanted to walk away and not ask the next logical question. I was almost certain I wouldn't like the answer.

"Who is she here with?"

"Mike."

Despite having mentally prepared myself, I stumbled backward as if I'd been slapped. "Well, that didn't take him long," I blurted, pain negating my verbal filter.

"On the contrary," Geoff said, his eyes like lasers burning a hole right through me. "He's had four months to get used to being single." He looked again at Mike and the blonde and smiled. "I guess he's taken to it like a duck to water."

He returned his gaze to me, his smile disappearing. His tone cut me like a knife. "But then again, so did you."

EPILOGUE

It's been eight years since Mike divorced me and there's not a day that goes by that I don't regret the actions that led to our separation. Sure, once it became clear that reconciliation was not an option, I got to indulge in my addiction but it was a hollow victory.

It didn't take me long to discover a continuous diet of "sugar" was ultimately unfulfilling and, like a true heroin addict, there was the law of diminishing returns. I'd spent eight years seeking that elusive first high. If only I'd realised back then I was doomed to fail. I try not to think about all the flings I've had and how they seem to get shorter and shorter in duration. Even less, I don't want to think about the other taboo lines I've crossed.

Once I was a reticent lover who was scared that if I showed too much enjoyment my husband would think I was a slut and lose respect for me. Now, I've had more lovers than I can count on fingers and toes, thrice over. Now, I've done things I pray my children never find out about. My relationship with them is tenuous enough as is.

Looking around the kitchen and dining room, I feel despair. The rooms seem empty without Mike. He brought warmth and laughter. Now they are silent. Once they were part of a home, now they're just part of a house.

I guess I should count myself fortunate that Mike agreed to sell me his share in the house for less than market value, especially considering I never returned to finish the course and remained, to this day, a general nurse, but it was hard to feel lucky when I knew what lay behind his generosity. Andrea, damn Andrea, was wealthy and she wanted Mike, with or without money. I knew for a fact they were currently on a world trip. Scotland, Venice, Florence, the Greek islands, the whole shebang. I knew because they'd paid for all the kids, hers and his, as well as grandkids to meet them in Hawaii in a few weeks' time.

That meant Christmas alone for me. Again.

I looked at my watch. It was time to head in to work. I gathered my handbag and made my way to the front door. Out of habit I glanced at my reflection in the mirror. I cringed. I was fifty-six and age was catching up with me; fast. It was getting harder and harder to pull the young guys. In truth the 'young guys' were now not so young. They were in their thirties and even forties rather than their twenties.

I sighed in resignation. What else could I do? Men my own age, marriageable men, were few and far between. At least, the good ones were. And whether good or bad none wanted to marry me. My reputation preceded me. The only escape would be to move to the other side of the country and start over, but that would mean moving away from my children and I didn't see enough of them as was without putting a continent between us.

While Mike and his bloody Andrea were probably kicking back and sipping Mai Tais I was heading off to change bedpans and shove thermometers up arses. I would end my days as a general nurse, having destroyed both my marriage and my career. And for what? For nothing. For a taste of sugar. Sweet but bitter sugar. I sniffed back self-pitying tears. Why bother crying? No one cared.

THE END

NOW, TO EASE YOUR JOURNEY FROM FICTION BACK TO COLD, HARD REALITY...

THE VANDEMONIUM JOKE.YOU CAN THANK JOE FOR IT.

This morning, around 7:00 a.m., I went for my stroll around the marina. I noticed a man with a long blade knife running down the dock toward me dressed in Islamic clothing, shouting, "Allah, be praised!" and "Death to all Infidels!" when suddenly he tripped and fell into the water.

He was struggling to stay afloat because of the weight of all the explosives he was carrying, and I knew that if he didn't get help soon, he would surely drown!

Not being a good swimmer myself but being a responsible citizen who abides by the moral code that requires a person to get help to those in distress, I contacted the Police, the Coast Guard, Homeland Security, and even the Fire Department.

It is now 11:00 a.m., none of the authorities have responded and the terrorist has drowned. I'm starting to think I just wasted four stamps.

HERE'S THE CTC JOKE (Thank God Van1 has a sense of humour!!)

Van1 was bragging to CTC one day, "You know, I know everyone there is to know. Just name someone, anyone, and I know them."

Tired of his boasting, CTC decided to call his bluff, "Okay, Vandy, how about Hugh Jackman?"

"No dramas, Hugh and I are old friends, and I can prove it."

Vandy and CTC flew over to the mainland and knocked on Hugh Jackman's door. Jackman answered the door in only his boardshorts which CTC appreciated (see smiley face)

"Vandy! What's happening? Great to see you! Come on in for a beer! Deborah and I've just fired up the barby."

Although impressed, CTC was still sceptical. After they leave Hugh's house, she tells Vandy that she thinks him knowing Jackman was just a lucky coincidence.

"After all, he's also an Australian."

"Okay. Fair point. Name someone else," Vandy replied.

"Hmm, let me think. How about US President Donald Trump," CTC quickly retorted.

"Yep," Vandy says, "Not my favourite person in the world but let's fly to Washington."

The next day they were off.

At the White House, Donald Trump spotted Van1 on the tour and motioned him and CTC over, saying, "Vandy, what a surprise, I was just on my way out for a game of golf, why don't you and your ball-and-chain join me?"

Well, CTC was very shaken by now but still not totally convinced. After they left Donald at the country club she expressed her doubts to Van1, who again challenged her to name someone else.

"Pope Francis," CTC replied.

"Sure!" said Van1. "I've known the Pope for years."

So off they flew to Rome.

Van1 and CTC joined the masses assembled at the Vatican's St. Peter's Square when Van1 said, "This will never work. I can't catch the Pope's eye among all these people. Tell you what, I know all the guards so let me just go upstairs and I'll come out on the balcony with the Pope."

He disappeared into the crowd headed toward the Vatican.

Sure enough, half an hour later Van1 emerged with the Pope on the balcony, but by the time he returned to the Square looking for CTC he discovered her surrounded by paramedics after having apparently suffered a heart attack.

Making his way to her side, Van1 asked, "What happened, honey?"

CTC looked up and said, "It was the final straw... you and the Pope came out on to the balcony and the man next to me said, 'Who is that guy in white on the balcony with Vandy?'