Let's go back to the beginning of the night. We met outside the club. It's not there anymore, the building was razedabout five years ago, to make way for another one, all ugly and new. Lunch had gone well, but it was tentative and nervous; maybe it was the crowd and the noise in the bar, but our conversation was hesitant, punctuated with so many "sorry, I didn't hear you"s that it was almost a relief to go back to work. There wouldn't be any better opportunities for conversation tonight, of course, but that didn't seem to matter so much. Different surroundings, different expectations. And a very different Gary. At school, he stuck to T-shirts and jeans, atwork he was encased in his motorcycle leathers. Tonight, he could have stepped out of an MTV video, looking so good that I felt positively dowdy alongside him. But he was the same Gary underneath it all, and as we took up our positions at the front of the dance floor, and the crowd began to push in around us, I realized that I was. ..just go." Amber turned to the exit then stopped. "Tamara?" she said. "I think you need to ask yourself why you care so much for this patient. You were willing to hire him a hooker." I stood there long after she had left, mulling over her words. I had heard of the Florence Nightingale effect, of nurses who fall in love with patients and never put much stock in it. But Amber was right, I was in love with Henry. I slipped into Henry's room and saw he was awake and watching tv. "I hoped I'd see you Tamara." he said, his face beaming. This amazing young man, facing his own mortality still managed to smile. I walked over to his bed and lowered it. "Am I going somewhere?" he asked. I pressed my finger to his lips and slid into the bed with him. I still remember the touch of his hands on my skin, his gentle unsure kisses on the nape of my neck, the almost giddy sounds he made as I mounted him. He placed his hands on my hips and i whispered. "Let me teach you." The look of contentment on his.
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