Here at Last (7 page)

After the movers finished unpacking my things
and set up
my small
treadmill
in my office
, I found the nearest juice bar and fitness studio. I decided
that
it would be easier to t
ake care of
myself if I
made it a
top
priority
as soon as I
arrived in
Chicago. I didn't want to lose the good habits that I
’d
picked up in New York.

I celebrated my
41
st
birthday on November 22
by going to the Mana Food Bar
for dinner
.
Rhonda had called and left a voicemail for me earlier singing “Happy Birthday." About halfway through desert,
I got a text from
Neelie
. I so appreciated
that they each had taken
the time to
remember
me on my birthday.

A few days later, I went
to
my colleague
Margaret
Nielson
's house for Thanksgiving. She lived alone and commonly
threw holiday meals for
friends who didn't have family in the area.
Of course
, I fell into that category
so I went
. It was a great chance to get to know Margaret better
and meet some new people.

It was a small but intimate gathering. Over the course of the evening, I learned that Margaret had come from Orlando. Her father had been a colle
ge professor in physics, which wa
s how she
’d been
introduced to the field. She grew up living and breathing math and had calculus down by the time she was in the 10
th
grade. She was smart, funny, and had a dry sense of humor. Standing at about five-foot-ten, she was a full figured blonde who was probably in her mid-fifties. She was adept at her job as lab researcher and had been at Hastings for about
twelve
years.

Peter Timmins was
another interesting
person.
A short
portly man
with
a receding hairline
and dark brown hair
,
Peter
had narrow brown eyes and a broad smile and
was one of the most expressive people I'
d
ever
met
.
H
e had a terrific sense of timing and could tell
jokes and
stories like no
one
else
. He kept us
laughing
on Thanksgiving
Day
and whenever we went out after work for dinner or tapas
, which he referred to as
“speed dating with food
.
”

Georgie and Lucas were there as well. They
’d
moved
from Rapid City
to Chicago within the past year and lived in Margaret's building. Georgie taught grade school, and Lucas worked as a janitor at Georgie’s school. They
found
Chicago
too expensive and were
looking for a way to get back
to Iowa
. Unfortunately, their opportunities were somewhat limited due to the recession.

After dinner
and dessert
, Margaret
suggested that we join her in her
annual holiday tradition
of watching
Charlie Brown Thanksgiving
.
When it ended, everyone
thanked
her
for her terrific hospitality and went
home.

When I
returned to
my apartment, I congratulated myself for not having spent another holiday alone.
For the four years that
David and I had
been together,
I’d had company on the holidays
. B
efore
that, however
, I'd missed most holidays because I was traveling so much.
T
onight was different, and I was grateful to have
been in the company of others on Thanksgiving
.





On Friday, December 4
th
, I spent the morning reviewing some articles from
the latest
Science
magazine
before deciding what I wanted for lunch
. It was cold outside, and I wrapped my scarf
around
my
neck
and buttoned up my coat
. P
ulling the hood over my head
,
I walked down the street to pick up some
hot tea and
a
sandwich
.
As I walked back to my office, I headed
for
the
revolving door
when a strong gust of wind blew the cold right through me
. I
kept my head down, tucking my chin
further
into the top of my coat. I d
idn’t see
the
man walking out of the door
,
and
he was
n’t
looking, either.
W
e walked
right
into
one another
, knocking the
top
off of my tea
, which
splashed
up onto
my
scarf
and coat
and
spilled
over my hand
.

I inhaled quickly
from the burn of the hot tea
. “Excuse me,” I said apologetically.

He looked up,
mortified.
“I
a
m
so
sorry
,
”
h
e
began before cutting himself off
.
Maybe it was
because of
the look on my face
or because he knew me, too
. “Here,” he said in a quieter voice, “let’s go back inside
,
and I’ll help you with that.”

I only nodded. I don’t know when and where I had expected to meet Him, but it certainly wasn’t
this way
.
A few
step
s
ahead of me, he strode toward the
revolving door
and
pushed it
until we were inside
. We
walked
into the warmth of the lobby
and
stopped
beside
a sofa and some chairs that were organized around an oblong coffee table that was topped with a few well-ordered magazines.
The fireplace cracked and roared several feet away, and the heat
was a welcome relief
.

I placed my cup of tea
and lunch
down on the table
while he
laid
his briefcase
beside them
. He reached into my
carry out
bag looking for napkins and pulled out a handful.
After
un
wrapping
the tea-stained scarf
from
around
my neck
,
I
tossed it
on
to
the table
, and h
e handed the napkins to me
.

“Thank you
,
” I said
as I wiped my hand
and
dab
bed
an
y remaining tea
from
my coat
.

I could feel him watching me intently
. Finally, he asked, “Do I know you? I
think
we’ve met before.”

Glancing at him quickly,
I was vague. “You look familiar, too.”

“What part of Chicago are you from?” he asked.

I shook my head.
“I’m not from here.
I
just
moved here six weeks ago
.”

His
brown
eyes were deep
and
warm.
“
What
do you do?”
When he smiled, I
was sure
it was Him.

“I’m a physicist
,” I replied.
My
hand
still
hurt a little
, and I absent-mindedly reached down to touch it.

“Here,” he said, reaching
for
my hand
. “Do you mind if I take a look?”

“No
,” I replied
.
“
Are you a doctor?”

“Not a doctor,” he
smiled a little
,
holding my hand
gently as he looked at it
.
“
Just a dad.”

My heart sank a little hearing this. Though I had never seen his features clearly, I wa
s certain that this was H
im.
H
e looked the same
though his features were clearer
,
sounded the same, and
felt
about the same
. The fact that he was married and
had
a child
made me feel as though I had misinterpreted my
dreams
. Perhaps some
part
of Him had come to me just to let me know that love was possible. Maybe
it was
the kind of love that he had with his wife. Suddenly, I felt a little lonely and wondered if I would ever meet my perfect man.

“What’s your name?”
he asked, interrupting my thoughts.

“
Sophia
.”
I extended my hand to shake his.
“Blackwell.”

“Hi,
Sophia
. I’m
Nicholas
Johnson.”

“It’s really nice to meet you
Nicholas
.
Well,
” I said, pulling my hand out of his,
“
I really should
get
back to work.”
I
sounded a little abrupt, even to myself.

His smile
slowly
vanished,
and
he
nodded. “Okay
.
I’m really sorry about
your hand
. It looks like it’s just a first-degree burn
.
You might want to
try a little vitamin E oil
on it
.”

“Thank
s
.
Take care
,
” I
said
before gathering
up my lunch and
what remained of
my tea
. He
picked
up his briefcase
and headed toward the door while I walked toward the elevator
.
As
I pushed the button,
I
closed my eyes and
remembered lying i
n my bed in Las Vegas
and
telling him that I’d wait for him if
I knew
that he was real
. He
was
real, I’d just learned
, but the only problem was that he didn’t remember
,
and he was with someone else.





I spent the rest of the afternoon feeling a little sorry for myself.
Although
I tried to focus on work
,
I couldn’t
get much done so I left
early and headed home.
When I got back to my apartment,
I turned on the gas fireplace to take the chill off and readjusted the thermostat. It was getting cold
er
outside, and I wanted to be warm. I decided to draw a hot bath for myself and
dropped
a Lush bath ball into the tub. 
After a few minutes, I sank
into the water
and leaned back on my bath pillow.
T
he heat from the
water
pulled the cold out of my bones, and I began feeling better
right away
.