Eloisa and George drift into Dreamland (Part 7)

By Marivir Montebon & Mona Lunot Kuker

Marivir: Five a.m. The alarm clock on night table rang.  Eloisa reached out to put it on quiet mode and buried her face on the pillow, wanting to sleep some more. But it’s time to get ready for her 7 a.m. shift. She showered fast and wore her purple scrubs and checked everything inside her back-up: water bottle, wallet, keys, Sky Flakes, Chocnut, baby wipes, and the hand-sewn mask given to her by George.

Eloisa headed out of her apartment and found George at the hallway. “Eloisa, can we talk please? Stop avoiding me please. I can explain everything to you.”

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“I have to go to work now. I am not going to see you anymore. We’re done, George,” Eloisa said as she hurriedly went out of the building.

Elmhurst Hospital is a 12-minute walk from Eloisa’s apartment. This time, she made it to the hospital in 7 minutes, as she had mixed feelings of doubt and anger.

During the routine huddle of nurses and their supervisor, Eloisa was assigned to handle eight cases of COVID-19 positive patients. Eight, tabang Lord!, she screamed silently. Supervisor Charlotte Smith assured them that they have enough N95 masks and gowns to use for their shift, this after the union pushed for adequate supplies following the death of a nurse supervisor on the 7th floor.

Mona Lunot Kuker & Marivir Montebon

“Here, keep this,” said Michael, Eloisa’s half-Filipino, half-Italian nurse colleague, as he handed to him an N95 in a sealed plastic bag. “I have more than enough.”  “Thanks, Michael. So thoughtful of you,” Eloisa said as she wore her gown and mask.

“Let’s have lunch later together, if that’s okay,” Michael said. “Ha? oh okay. Surely,” she said as she entered into the isolation room, dressed like an astronaut, to take care of her first patient for the day.

Mona: In Cafe Buunni near Elmhurst Hospital, Eloisa was seating anxiously across George. She might lose this charming hunk guy that now she’s deeply fallen  in love with.  She needs to confront him, something that bothered her immensely.

After her friend Crystal told her eventually the incident in Barcelona, she was appalled and disgusted. It looks like he was involved with a  rich woman. Is he  a boy toy? she thought. Trying to compose herself, she drank the latte to clear her throat, and she wished  it was vodka instead. 

She’s so depressed. After all,  what had happened last Sunday when George and she had a few drinks in her apartment after dinner. George played a romantic music, held her hands and started dancing. They were both tipsy and getting silly, laughing, swinging, while George held her closer to him. Their eyes locked up like they were in Dreamland.

Now George’s handsome face is one inch away from her. His face is pinkish and lips is so red from the wine they drink.  She felt those tiny butterflies in her belly. Eloisa closed her eyes,  she was too weak to refuse and her knees trembled in excitement.  They fell into the soft, velvety red couch.  There’s a fire between them and it’s unstoppable.  It’s so intense, and they are lost in Nirvana.  

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To be continued

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