ROMANTIC TAIL

He enters up center  through my front door (left ajar).
My apartment is feeling (more and more) like a stage set.

"Mister Roberts?"

"I'm over here by the plant!"

I want whoever it it to play out to the house.

He strides past Mary at the door, past the broken scooter, and down to me at the end of the room (near the foot of the stage).

He's been trying to reach me, he says,  he called twice this morning, he says.
"Is this your cell phone number?" he asks.

Oh.

This is today's visiting nurse, it dawns on me, and this going be good because Francisco (his name I later discover) has a thick European accent, bare muscular forearms, an athletic broad-shouldered frame, blue eyes, wide cheek bones, and a Prince Valiant ponytail.

He wears the "visiting nurses association" badge but the rest of him is more relaxed and urban than Miss Bessie was. Which leads me to conclude that Miss Bessie's girl scout uniform was self imposed. (We all like to dress up and play out our roles with costumes and props).

Francisco and I make small talk and grin at each other. I'm still bleary with coffee. The scene feels deliciously absurd - (Who are these strangers in my apartment, stirring oatmeal, shaking thermometers?)

We get down to the business of my bloated feet. In short, Francisco can find nothing wrong and is charmingly baffled as to why is he is here.

He grins, seductively looks me in the eyes and says,

"Pffttt! - there is nothing here. I don't know what they see but I see nothing."

I resist swooning a little mostly because when Francisco beams, his smile says, go ahead, swoon! everybody does, I enjoy it - so swoon!

I call Mary over and ask her to describe to Francisco what Miss Bessie had shown her. Mary and Francisco examine my feet like they're staring down a deep dark hole trying to make out if something's actually down there.

Mary passively points to a few places but looks uncommitted.

I look ahead of me at nothing, as if my feet had little interest to me but if they do for you, I'm willing to let them out.

"I see nothing"  Francisco repeats -  but he says he will return one more time, next week.

Before he goes, I can't help it, I gotta know where he's from.

Francisco releases the grin and says, "Brazil! But many people guess Sweden- the cheekbones. "
He's loving the attention.