This did not compare to the call from my handsome. teacher friend Jeff who was calling the apartment as soon as we entered. He was like an ardent schoolboy. When could he come over to meet her. And so started a three-year romance but not one without its traumas for both had their troubles to shoulder.
When Jim took his family back to Europe, Sabrina had me as family. After a few weeks having meals together, chatting, sharing stories and laughing together we grew accustomed too each other. I took her to my home in Summerside, and my parents were intrigued with her accent and infectious laugh.
There was an event on the way back to Charlottetown. Jim had sold me a 1968 V8 Ford when he left. With such A powerful car, I slipped off the road on ice into a ditch scaring us both. Sabrina insisted I get a St. Christopher medal for safety. I am not catholic, but this suggestion did seem worth a try as there were other fender benders.
At work, I had found my niche and despite challenging supervisors every day my work was a pleasure as I enjoyed work mates and clients. Sabrina loved nursing and was happy in nursery. She kept the doctors laughing and on their toes. A few of the nurses took her home to visit and she was happy. After work she enjoyed a double whisky but never when she was to be on duty.
I learned that Sabrina had given up a lucrative job with the airlines to care for an ill relative. It took month out of her life. After the death, she studied to become a nurse. More time and she could have been a physician. Any romantic relationships were on hold, but she knew what she wanted in a partner and was not easily satisfied.
And this was the case with Jeff. When they were in public, they were like movie stars. But school was difficult for him, and it took its toll on him and his romance. Drinking was nor helpful for him or Sabrina. It was difficult to watch the erosion of their lives.
It was different for me as my boyfriend, while a teacher was an ongoing student, but when he settled down, we were happily married. But it was not to be for Jeff and Sabrina. He moved to other less challenging jobs, and she moved to Halifax and Toronto and then to her homeland.
It seemed wise to end the association because of influence on me, and the control she exhibited over my life. But there were the unending calls from her twice a year. I haven’t had one this year and I wonder if she is still living.
When she calls there is reminiscing about the years we shared at the apartment, family, recreations and writing. I feel she could have been an outstanding author with her wit, intelligence and perception of the world in both black and white and color. In one call we mentioned ageing and she left me with the notion that she still had raven hair with a “perverse” strip of white, and I wish Karsh could have taken her portrait.
