'Doc Juan'

Chapter 39

"Ere's some paper an' a pen..." his mother exclaimed, slamming writing material upon the breakfast table as he partook of his soggy cereal with a demeanor that seemed to say I've lost all hope an' interest in life! "Ooh! Nice! Startin on the will early, eh? " he was quick to resort to sarcasm at her actions. "I mean, write er a letter. Like the ones she wrote me on yer behalf...'cept romanticize em. Tell er how much ya love er, want er back, how yer life seems incomplete without er in it...ya know, pull out all the stops on the ooey-gooey details." the old woman, who was secretly a hopeless romantic at heart, explained her plan to him. "An' will that work?" he asked, ruminating over her plan as he swallowed the remainder of his cereal while flipping through the blank pages in an unimpressed manner. "If ya pour yer heart out, she'll come back." she assured, squeezing her son's shoulders before leaving him to it and sauntering off to the kitchen to help herself to some coffee. "If ya say so....Gee, I doubt anyone still relies on the post office any more!" he muttered to himself with a shrug of his shoulders as soon as she'd turned her back to him, unsure if her plan to get Elle back would work but deciding to give it a shot anyway.
He wrote tons of love letters to her, sending one out every day in the hopes of winning her back- Reminding her about the fun they'd had together, the passion he hoped would be reignited and rekindled once more, etc, etc.  And he wrote it all with such passion that they often turned into erotic letters instead and needed proof-reading from mum before being sent out!
He'd found out through Nina (who still remained in touch) after much persuasion that she'd moved to America soon after the breakup and with no roof over her head, into the timeshare with mumsy and her estranged dad. Apparently, she'd been forced into pursuing her mumsy's dead dream of acting and was already dreading leaving London. This was just another reason for the determined doctor to continue writing to her. If his letters were the only way to contact her, convince her to return and to rescue her from her dreadful life, then he wasn't gonna give up till they found their way to her and did their job.
Of course, he never received a reply from her and after that umpteenth letter, was eventually forced to return to that I've lost all hope demeanor once again.
"I made the worst fuckin mistake o' my life!" he cried out regretfully one day, startling his old mum as he balled up the letter he'd been working on and tossing it into the bin. His cries of regret weren't received well by his sensitive-eared mum who immediately pointed to the swear jar that was brimming with money, mostly accumulated through her distressed, potty mouth son who was incessantly swearing and complaining about his failed attempts of wooing his former lady-love.
"Everyone makes fudgin mistakes, lad. But, they've the decency to not swear about it in front o' their mother. Ya know my ears are sensitive, lad." she scolded him as she would a child. "Mum, I'm a grown man. I can swear without bein charged for it." he retorted with a roll of his eyes. "Grown men don't run home an' cry in their mother's arms after their first break-up." she shot back.  "Argh! I hate when ya go all psycho on me. Just leave me alone, yeah? I'm jobless, homeless, my love- life's a lost cause...An' to top it, I've an extremely unsupportive mother who'd rather resort to sarcasm than take this seriously!" she heard him grumble. "Jobless?" she enquired. "Aye...ever since I stopped sleepin with my patients, my practice has gone downhill. I've had to shut shop...despite the bloody fact that I'm a brilliant doctor an' people are constantly fallin ill! Might as well move back ere. Now, are ya gonna stand there an' psychoanalyze me or ya gonna lemme hunt for a new job in peace? Maybe the local hospital's hirin...." he grumbled, turning his attention back to the classifieds in the newspaper he'd been browsing through, hinting that he was thinking of settling down in Scotland.  "Stop it." she ordered, snatching the papers before his sorrowful eyes scanned them any further.
"Go after er. Yer job-huntin can wait. Just go after er an' apologize face-to-face." she commanded, tapping the address written down on the envelope with her long fingernails in an insistent manner. "She doesn't wanna see me, woman! Besides...I'm penniless. D'you even listen to half the stuff I say or d'you just nod along?!" he scoffed off her idea. "I'll pay for the flight. Just go to er, kay? I can't have ya sulkin around...or hoggin my bathtub for yer suicide attempts! You've had women waltzin in an' outta yer bedroom ever since I remember. Cheerleaders in high school, goth girls, that weird Wiccan woman....all kinds! An' when ya finally find someone who waltzes in an' sticks around....you've gotta go get er before she waltzes out, lad!" she advised, squeezing his hand lightly as she sat down beside him.
"Besides, I need atleast one grandkid before I die!" the eager, ageing lady added jokingly, eliciting a smile from the previously long-faced doctor (who also seemed to agree with her over the prospect of future grandkids). "Oh, mum...!"  the blushing man found himself at a loss for words as he clasped her hand in his, turning it over and thumbing the wrinkles that covered it. He looked up at her, deep into her loving eyes and at the crow's feet that lingered at each corner, all the while pondering whether her new plan to bring Elle and her sunshiney grin back into his life would work out, unlike the previous one involving the letters. But, he decided to give it a shot anyway.