"She's paranoid and a psycho."

Ash chuckled. He lay down on his old bed and kept staring at Misty's business card. "She's not; she just hates men, for some reason."

"What? That's stupid."

"Not really. Maybe some guy hurt her in the past. You never know."

"And why do you want to speak to her then?" Gary raised an eyebrow. He was sitting down on the desk chair.

"Because... uhm. I don't know? She's just funny. She does those funny looking faces—it's funny, and cute. She acts funny. It makes me laugh."

"I don't understand you."

"I don't understand me either."

"Does that mean you'll be turning down Anabel?"

Ash pulled himself up and sat down on his bed. His eyes never left the business card. "I don't know. She's a co-worker."

"You're not at the office all the time."

"Things are already starting to get awkward between us. No, I don't want to date a co-worker. Anabel is a sister."

Gary spread his arms. "The friendzone. Level: Ash Ketchum."

"That got old."

"What is wrong with you, Ketchum?"

"I know you care about Anabel because she's your best friend but you can't make me feel bad about it and just say yes to her."

"I'm not trying to make you feel bad; I'm just making sure you won't die alone."

"Or maybe you're turning into this creepy paranoid curious housewife who wants to know everything running in the neighborhood because she thinks her husband is cheating on her? Calm down, Gary. You're giving me the creeps."

Gary made a face. "Wrong answer."

Ash smiled to himself. He looked at the card again. Misty Williams. Registered Nurse. Geriatrics specialist. Hospital of Cerulean city – Cerulean Women Care Home.

"Opposite attracts."

"That's high school bullcrap, Ketchum."

"No, it's not. She's different. I like her."

"Well, good luck trying to convince the men-hater to date you. She could put poison in your food or something. She could even report you for abuse if you shove her to the wall and try to kiss her. I have to go now. See ya."

Gary slammed his hand against the desk and got up. He left Ash's old bedroom. The raven haired lay down again, eyes fixed always on the card.

"I'm up to the challenge then."

* * * * * * * *

"Hey Grandma Margaret! How are you today?" spoke up a cheerful Misty in her blue nurse uniform as she walked toward an old woman with white short hair who was throwing the bread crumbs to the pigeons. She was always the one to do this in this care home.

"I am good," the woman replied with a smile. Misty sat beside her on the bench and placed her hand on the old woman's back.

"Does your vision still get blurry?"

"No, not so much."

"That's good." Misty wrote down everything on her notebook. She placed it on her lap. "Perfect!"

"How was your day then, darling?"

"Uhm, well... good."

Margaret turned toward Misty slowly. She was still smiling. "From the tone of your voice, it seems like something is going on."

"Almost..."

"You know you can always talk to me about anything that bothers you, dear. You're like the granddaughter I never had—oh, I'm too old to be your mother, aren't I?"

Misty's smile was weak. She knew the woman was right. Margaret grew a special bond ever since Misty came to this care house. She always told her about her adventures when she was young and worked as a nurse as well.

"It's about... something bad happened to me yesterday."

"Oh, my darling! Did someone hurt you?" Margaret frowned.

"No no no! At all! I just... I was driving back to Cerulean, and I got a flat tire. It was night already."

"Oh dear... and what did you do?"

"I was waiting for someone to show up and help me, and then... two guys showed up..."

Margaret placed her hand over her mouth. "My Lord! Did they hurt you?"

"No no! They helped me fix the tire."

"That's good, darling."

"Yes, helped me."

Margaret knew how much Misty hated to count on someone else, and especially a guy. She always had to listen to her speak about how useless and manipulating men were. The old woman never said anything about it nor gave any comments. She just listened, and shook her head in secret.

"It's this guy, Grandma Margaret, I found him right in my face this morning when I got outside my building! He's so—so... uh, what to say? He's—he's annoying! He said I was a girl on my own that's why he followed me! And—and he said—he dared! I know!"

Misty huffed and placed her elbows on her thighs. She rested her face on her palms. "He's a stalker!"

"What is his name? And how old is he? Does he work?"

Misty's eyes opened. "What..."

"What? You want to end up all alone and sick in a care home like me?" Margaret said with a slight giggle.

Misty's jaw dropped. What? Even the woman she looked up to thought she needed men?

"It's not really about being a male or a female, Misty. Both genders need each other—marriage is very good, sweetheart. You need to get married. You need to get children of your own, so you don't end up like me."

"Wh-..." Misty sat straight. No, this can't be—this is a curse, right? Marriage? Marriage?

"I have always told you about all the good things I've done, right sweetheart?" Margaret placed her hand on Misty's thigh. "I never told you about the bad things I did, that I still regret to this day."

"I did not let anyone in, Misty. I thought I'd be happy single and independent. I sort of was when I was still very young, but as years went by... I was starting to feel lonely."

Misty looked down at her feet. She was trying hard to avoid eye contact with the elderly woman.

"I wanted children too, but no foster home care wanted to give a child to a woman who worked day and night in a hospital. It would have been unfair to the child."

"But—but, I... I hate men." Misty sounded nervous.

"No, you don't hate all men, darling."

"No, I hate them. My father left because-"

"You need to stop living in the past, darling. You're young and you have so much ahead of you... you could meet someone, and marry them, and why not have children as well... you could do so much, Misty. You're still young, and you have to live life to the max. Give guys a chance. Give them one chance, then you can step back if you don't like the results."

Misty sighed and bit her lip. She could never tell Grandma Margaret will tell her such things someday.

"You're a beautiful girl, Misty. You have your whole life ahead. Live it. Don't waste it like I did. I don't want you to end up like me... We all here want to see you a bride someday." Margaret smiled.

"Oh come on..."

"Misty... having someone you can rely on... it's a gift, dear. It's something only a person like me and all these women who live here can understand. You're still young; you still can do anything and everything on your own. One day, this will change, and you will languish to have someone's company."

"I can get a cat or two."

Margaret laughed. She planted a kiss on Misty's forehead. "May God protect you, my child. May God send you a rich handsome husband too."

"Hey!"

What made Misty feel more nervous that day is Ash coming to the care home; she told the other nurses though to tell him that she wasn't there. They brought her later a business card.

"He said his personal phone number is the one written on the back, not the typed one on the front. That's for work."

"Is he your boyfr-"

"No! He is NOT! HE IS NOT, I SAID!"

The nurses ran away once Misty started to yell. They knew her very well, and they were shocked themselves to see a guy coming asking about her.

Ash Ketchum. Accountant.

Misty kept staring at Ash's business card for the rest of the day, flipping it over sometimes to stare at his personal phone number, and she was feeling horribly bad for thinking about calling him for a second.

It was official; maybe she wouldn't admit it, but she was starting to feel attracted to this... Ash Ketchum.

"I need Oreos."

To be continued.