"Meara, you don’t have to do this,” Mom said for about the fifteenth time that morning.
“I know, Mom. I want to. Honest.” I was driving her to her first chemotherapy appointment. I didn’t know how she’d feel afterwards, and I didn’t want her driving home by herself. My grandmother offered to drive her, but she had her monthly garden club meeting. She would have missed it and all the fresh gossip. I insisted that I drive. I didn’t have anything going on, and she was my mother.
“Maybe Ula will be there,” I added. I told Mom about Ula after the last appointment. I had so much fun the last time when I met her. I was looking forward to hanging out and getting to know her better. I was nice to have someone my age to talk to that understood what I was going through.
“That would be nice,” Mom said. “I’m glad you met a friend.”
When we got out to the car, I opened the driver’s door and Mom gave me a strange look. “I can drive there, Meara.”
“It’s okay, Mom,” I said. “I’ll drive.”
When my mom drove to the clinic last time, I paid attention. I knew the way there. Within a few minutes, we were out of Peggy’s Cove and on our way to Halifax. I decided to tell my mom about my dreams. I was thinking about them often. I had never seen a picture of David and that was bothering me. Did he look like the man in my dreams? They were so real. I’d never had dreams like that before, the kind that gave me goose bumps. I took a deep breath.
“Mom, I dreamed about David.”
She patted my knee. “That’s natural, honey. Peggy’s Cove is where I met your father, and you know that. I’m sure it’s stirred your imagination. Besides, you used to dream about him when you were little.”
“I did?” I only remembered the one time when I was about seven.
“Oh sure. All the time.” She smiled at me briefly, and then turned to look out the window. Was she nervous?
“What did he look like?” I asked. “Do you have any pictures of him?”
She bit her thumbnail, proving that she was either nervous, worried, or both. “No, I never took any. I didn’t have a camera, and when we were together, I wasn’t thinking about capturing memories or anything like that.”
“Can you describe him?” I asked. “How tall was he?”
“Over six foot. My head only came to his shoulder.”
“And his eyes?”
“Blue.”
“His hair?”
“The same color as yours. He wore it a little longer than most men, and it curled slightly.” She smiled at the memory.
“How old was he?”
“A few years older than me. Maybe twenty-three?”
Everything she described sounded like the man from my dreams. The man who called himself David. How could I dream about my father exactly as he looked when Mom dated him? How would I know that?
“Well? Does that match your dream man?” She tried to make a joke, but her voice shook a little.
“It does. In my dream, David looks about twenty-five. How can I dream about a man I never met?”
“They’re just dreams, Meara,” Mom said. I could tell that she didn’t believe that by the way she worried her lip. That left me with another question, one that I wasn’t ready to ask her. Why did my dreams bother her? “But, you’ll tell me if you dream of him again, right?”
“Sure, Mom,” I obliged, although not sure at all. “Of course.”
We arrived at the clinic, and I found a parking spot near the entrance. We walked in together, dropping the subject of David. The waiting room was full, but I didn’t see Ula.
“Is your friend here?” Mom asked.
“I don’t see her,” I said.
Mom looked disappointed. She wanted to meet her and had hoped to see her here today. “You brought some things along?”
“Of course. I’ll be fine.” I had my backpack slung over my shoulder. This time, I packed snacks, a drink, a book, and my laptop. I wasn’t worried about being bored.
The same nurse called Mom back a few minutes later. Not wanting to stay in the waiting room, I walked outside. It was sunny and not too hot. A light breeze blew my hair. I headed straight for the park, my destination was the secluded spot Ula had shown me.
As I was walking down the path, I noticed someone wearing a baseball cap already sitting there. I thought about turning around and heading back up, but then I noticed the curly ponytail sticking out of the back of the hat. Ula.
She turned at that moment and smiled at me, gesturing for me to come down.
“Hi Meara!”
“Hi!”
When I reached the ledge, I sat down next to her and dangled my feet over the side. “I didn’t think you were coming today.”
“I’ve been here for about an hour already,” she said. “You weren’t here last week.”
“No,” I said. “Mom had to go to Toronto for some tests.”
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I said. “How’s your mom?”
She shrugged. “Eh. I’d rather not talk about it.”
“Sorry.”
She tapped my arm lightly. “No need to apologize.”
We stared out at the ocean for a while, not saying anything. There were several sailboats, fishing boats, and other watercrafts. It seemed everyone was enjoying this gorgeous day.
“Do you always come with your mom?” I asked.
“Usually.”
“Do you have any brothers and sisters?”
“I do,” she said. “But I’m the youngest. They’re much older than I am. How about you?”
I shook my head. “It’s just me. It’s always been just Mom and me.”
She looked at me and frowned. “That must make this that much harder then.”
“Yeah.”
“I hope you don’t find this too forward of me, but where’s your dad?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I never met him.”
She looked like she might say something else, but she ended up hugging me instead, which seemed to surprise both of us. “Let’s talk about something happier,” she suggested.
“Okay. Like what?”
She got a twinkle in her eye. “How about boys?”
I laughed. “What about them?”
She crossed her legs and turned to face me. “Do you have a boyfriend?”
I thought about Evan. Was he my boyfriend? We’d seen each other several times the last couple of weeks. We kissed with an increasing frequency, which was fine by me, but we never talked about our relationship.
Ula watched me, her green eyes narrowing. “Well, come on then. I want details.”
I laughed again. “What gave it away?”
She smiled at me. “You’re blushing. So, who is he?”
“His name is Evan.”
“And?”
“And he’s smart and cute. He plays hockey, too.”
She tilted her head, as if she was going to ask another question. Before she could, I jumped in with one of my own. “How about you? Do you have a boyfriend?”
“Me? No.” Her curls swung as she shook her head. “It’s hard to meet boys when you’re homeschooled.” She frowned and twirled a strand of her hair. “People in general, actually.”
“Evan invited me to one of his games. You should come, too.”
“I don’t know…”
“C’mon. It’ll be fun.”
“When?” Ula asked.
“August 17. It’s right here in Halifax. Will you come?”
“I’ll think about it.”