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“Then we should keep the lines of communication open with the parents. I told my mother something that made her extremely happy.”
“Can you tell me?”
I looked at him sidelong, sizing him up. He was fiddling with something on his kitchen counter, watching me.
“I’m going to take the boards.”
“Wow.” He smiled, and I could tell he was trying not to show how excited he was.
“Yeah, I have to take it soon. If I wait much longer, three years after graduation, I’ll have to take a refresher course. I just found out I can take it a couple more times.” I barked out a laugh. “If it comes to that, we know I’m not meant to practice nursing.”
He took a step closer and reached for me. “This is great news.”
“Then, if I pass, you said you’d train me.”
“I will personally train you. You’ll come as my assistant. That way, you won’t have to apply.”
“What are they looking for?” I asked, my interest growing. I didn’t have any experience, so I figured that was the reason I wouldn’t be applying directly to the group who sponsored the trips.
“Speaking Arabic or French helps.”
“Ugh, I don’t speak either.”
“I’ll teach you,” he said. “Lebanese isn’t Arabic, but there are enough of the same words that you’ll pick it up fast.”
My nerves skyrocketed. This might be something I could actually do and be successful at, and it thrilled me. “Can I use your computer?”
“Of course.”
“I need to do the practice tests. There are several free sites.”
“Perfect. You study, I’ll cook.”
“What are we eating?”
“Falafel in pita. Is that okay?”
“It sounds wonderful,” I said.
He grabbed his laptop off the counter and pushed me to the couch. He repeated, “You study, I’ll cook.”
We ate dinner sitting on the couch, me asking him questions about his trips and him focusing on the information that would interest me. He took my plate, and before he could leave, I took the plates from him and set them on the coffee table. With my hands on his chest, I pushed him down against the back of the couch.
Monday at ten o’clock, he called me between patient visits. I hesitated when I saw his number, embarrassed but relieved that he was still talking to me.
“I’m glad you aren’t holding last night against me,” I said, snickering.
“Last night was wonderful,” he said, his voice husky, sending shivers down my spine again.
“I guess I’m jumping in with both feet,” I said, wincing.
“It was definitely both feet for both of us. Believe it or not, I rarely move so fast.”
“You didn’t. I’m the one,” I said. “I saw the opportunity to show you what you mean to me, and I took it. I have zero regrets, and if you knew me, you’d know that my middle name isI regret that.”
He let out a boisterous, contagious laugh. That was another thing about Flynn Safadi; he made me laugh.
“We’ll have to talk about it tonight,” he said. “I mean, rehash how wonderful it was and what it meant to me. I really like you, Bella. I mean, really.” He snickered.
