Eight
“Flow”
I arrived at work with only seconds to spare. Carla had decided at the last minute to call in sick. So, of course, she wasn’t in any particular hurry to get me to the hospital on time. This situation really made me regret not bringing my own vehicle to St. Louis. Anyhow, while she was back at the apartment with a queasy stomach, I was poised for another exciting night in the ER. What would I walk into this shift?
No sooner than I’d swiped my badge and entered the trauma unit, I was herded into a room and instructed by the attending physician to begin chest compressions on a patient whom I knew nothing about. As I, along with another nurse, performed CPR on the elderly woman, I could see an elderly man standing outside the room with a concerned look on his face.
“What’s going on here?” I asked the other nurse, Kerry, who was bagging the patient.
“Husband found her unconscious, lying in the backyard at their home. By the time EMS got her here, she was breathing but had a weak pulse. She’s in full cardiac arrest now,” she said as she squeezed the Ambu bag, allowing the oxygenated air to enter the patient’s lungs.
I nodded and continued with the chest compressions. There were several other nurses in the room as well as Dr. Freeman, the attending physician. Behind me, I could hear him barking orders for different drugs to be pushed—atropine, epinephrine, lidocaine. All the while, we took quick breaks to check for a shockable heart rhythm. After thirty minutes of a valiant effort by all involved, the patient was pronounced deceased.
I watched as Dr. Freeman informed the patient’s husband. The man’s face fell and he hung his head in despair as he listened to the doctor. Then he silently walked away from the emergency area.
My heart ached for the man and, as we prepared the body for transport to the morgue, I silently prayed for him and his family. I hated to think of anyone losing a loved one.
And so began my shift. As usual, the twelve hours seemed to zip by, and by 7:00 A.M., I was more than ready to get home and into bed. My feet were throbbing, and I was truly exhausted. One thing was for sure, if I had never done so in the past, I was definitely earning my paycheck at University Hospital.
I gave my report on the patients that remained in the ER and then stepped outside into the warm June weather and took a seat on a bench. I expected Carla to be there any minute to pick me up, so I didn’t mind waiting outside. I’d been sitting there a few minutes before I realized that I was sitting next to the elderly gentlemen who’d lost his wife the previous night. Had he stayed at the hospital all night?
“Sir,” I began. “Sir, are you okay?”
He looked up at me with the saddest expression. “No, I… I lost my wife last night.”
I nodded. “I know, sir. I’m very sorry for your loss.”
He hung his head. “Thank you. Millie and I were together for fifty-four years. I don’t know what I’m gonna do now. There’s a piece of me that’s gone forever.”
I looked down at the sidewalk for a moment, not exactly sure of what to say. Finally, I said, “Have you been here all night?”
He nodded. “I can’t go home. I can’t go home knowing Millie’s not there.” His voice broke.
I placed my hand on his shoulder. “Do you have any family you could stay with for a while? Is there anyone I could call for you?”
He wiped his eyes. “Um, we’ve got a daughter, Sarah. She lives across town. I’ve been so upset, I haven’t been able to call her.”
I offered him a smile. “Okay, let me call her for you.”
The man gave me his name and his daughter’s number. I called and informed her that her father was at the ER and needed a ride home. I decided to let him be the one to break the news about her mother to her. I sat with him and helped him to his daughter’s car once she arrived. It was as they drove away that I realized Carla still hadn’t arrived to pick me up. It had been exactly thirty minutes since my shift ended when I dialed her cell phone number—no answer. I left a message and continued to wait on the bench.
Another twenty minutes passed and I could barely keep my eyes open as I fumbled through my purse for my phone, having decided to try and call Carla again. I’d finally fished my phone out of my purse when I was startled by a voice coming from the driveway in front of the ER.
“Well, if it isn’t Ms. Marli,” a man said. I raised my head to see that it was Chris King.
He was speaking to me from the driver’s side of a shiny, black Mercedes Benz, complete with some very expensive-looking chrome rims. Trumpet-playing must have been a lucrative career for him.
“Hi,” I said unenthusiastically.
“You work here?”
Well that was stating the obvious. I was sitting outside a hospital wearing scrubs.
“Uh, yeah. Just got off,” I said, rather curtly.
“Oh, okay, well, have a good day.” I’m sure he sensed that I wasn’t in the best of moods.
“Yeah, it’s been lovely so far,” I replied under my breath.
He drove away, and I dialed Carla’s number again. This time it went straight to voicemail. A voice inside told me that I should’ve asked Mr. Chris King for a ride, but I didn’t really know him. What if he was some kind of psycho?
After another ten minutes of waiting, I looked up and noticed a familiar black Mercedes pull back around the driveway.
“Do you just like hanging around hospitals or something, or are you a stalker?” I asked sarcastically as he pulled his car to a stop in front of me.
Chris smiled and shook his head. “No and no. I was here dropping off my sister for her shift. She’s a nurse. Her name’s Ava King. You know her?”
I shook my head. “No, but I’m new here.” And I don’t know many white people, period.
“Oh, okay. Well, anyway, after I drove off earlier, I thought to myself that you looked like you needed a ride home. Do you?”
“I’m okay. I’m sure my friend will be here any minute,” I said and glanced at my watch. Now, of course I was lying, because at that point, I wasn’t sure if Carla was ever going to show up.
“You sure? How long you been out here waiting?”
I cleared my throat. “About an hour.”
“Man, that’s a long time, and you look tired. Come on, I’ll give you a ride.”
I frowned. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll just catch a cab…”
“Come on, Ms. Marli. Why you gotta be so mean? I’m trying to help you, here. You got something against riding in cars with white men, too?”
I sighed, grabbed my bag, and walked over to his car. At that point I was so tired, I couldn’t even argue anymore.
Chris jumped out of the car and opened the passenger’s door for me. Even through drowsy eyes I couldn’t help but notice how nicely his jeans fit him. And he smelled so good.
Once I climbed inside, he closed the door behind me and returned to the driver’s seat. His car’s interior was immaculate. The heavenly aroma of a vanilla-scented air freshener filled my nose and Marcus Miller’s “Boomerang” was pouring softly from the car’s speakers.
As we exited the lot, I looked over at him and smiled. “Thanks,” I said.
He glanced at me with a grin. “No problem, Ms. Marli. Where to?”
I gave him my address and said, “Can I ask you a question?”
“Yeah, what’s up?”
“Why do you talk like that?”
He gave me a confused look. “Like what?”
“You know, like you’re black.”
His eyes widened. “Oh… uh, this is how I’ve always talked.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, really. Why?”
I shrugged. “I was just wondering.”
Chris shook his head. “Wow, you are prejudiced. Where are you from, anyway? Selma circa 1954?”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not prejudiced. I was just curious. And I’m from Arkansas.”
“Oh damn, no wonder. They probably still got segregated schools and ‘w
hites only’ restaurants down there,” he said with an exaggerated Southern drawl.
I bugged my eyes. “No, they don’t!”
“Well, that’s how you’re acting. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were from the Jim Crow era instead of Arkansas.”
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever.”
“I’m serious. I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman as racist as you before.”
“I’m not racist!”
“If you say so…”
A silence fell between us for the remainder of the ride. And all the while, only one thought ran through my mind: Am I being racist?
As we approached my building, I said, “Well… thanks again. I really appreciate the ride.” I paused for a moment. “Look, I really didn’t mean anything by asking that question. I wasn’t trying to be a racist or anything, seriously.”
He smiled. “I know. I was just messing with you.” He jumped out of the car and opened the door for me. “I’ll walk you to your door.”
“Okay, but you don’t have to.”
He shot me a sly look. “Maybe I want to.”
As Chris walked me to my apartment, the urge to twist my hips was overwhelming. As tired as I was, I still found it almost impossible not to flirt with him.
Once we reached my door, I gave him a groggy smile. “Um, well, this is it. I’d invite you in, but I’m so tired, it’ll be all I can do to climb into my bed.”
Chris nodded. “No problem, I got you. But you know, there is a way you could repay me.”
I tilted my head to the side. “Really? And what’s that?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Dinner?”
I sighed and shook my head. “Look Chris, like I said before, I don’t date white guys.” But I was kind of thinking about it at that point.
“I know, but you said yourself that I don’t sound white. You could just close your eyes and pretend that I’m black.”
I had to laugh at that. “I don’t think I can eat dinner with my eyes closed, Mr. King, or do you plan on feeding me?”
“I will if I have to. Come on, Ms. Marli. One dinner, no strings attached. That’s all I’m asking.”
I looked up at his face and smiled. He did have the nicest blue eyes. “Why?”
“Why what?” he asked, looking confused again.
“Why are you so interested in having dinner with me?”
“Oh, well, when I saw you at the club, I thought, Dang, now that’s a beautiful woman. Do you know how hard it was for me to concentrate on playing my horn with you sitting there looking like you were looking? I just wanna spend a little time in the presence of your beauty and get to know you. Plus, you’re mean, and I like that in a woman.”
Despite myself, I felt my smile widening. “Okay, I’ll think about it. What’s your phone number?”
I programmed Chris’s number into my phone and then knocked on the door. I guess I was too tired to remember that I had the key in my purse. Chris and I were both shocked when Quinton Farver opened the door, wearing only a pair of boxers.
“Uh,” was all I managed to say.
Chris, however, was more verbal. “Quint? What you doing here?”
“Aw, just kickin’ it with my girl, Carla. You must be Marli. I was just getting ready to leave,” he said.
I frowned a little. “Uh, yeah. Nice to meet you?”
He moved to the side and, as I squeezed past him, I turned and said, “Thanks again, Chris.”
“No problem, Ms. Marli. I’ll be waiting for your call.”
I nodded and continued through the apartment to my room. I closed the door, stripped out of my work clothes, and collapsed into the bed. I decided to confront Carla about her little fake illness whenever I woke up.
~*~
I rolled over in bed and silenced the alarm on my cell phone. 3:00 P.M. already? It was time for me to drag myself out of bed, find something to eat, and get ready to head back to the hospital for another shift. I’d been asleep ever since I arrived home and had yet to confront Carla about her undercover booty call. Oh, and I couldn’t forget the fact that she left me high and dry without a ride home that morning. It wasn’t like Carla to be irresponsible, and her behavior really concerned me.
After a hot shower, I wrapped my robe around my body and headed to the kitchen, hoping that Carla was awake so that I could talk to her. I walked into the kitchen and was surprised to find her at the stove whipping up something that smelled so good, I could’ve sworn I’d stepped into a restaurant.
“Hey, sleepy head,” she greeted me cheerfully with a bright smile. I guess her time with Quinton had energized her.
“Hey,” I said brusquely as I took a seat at the table. Whatever she was cooking was not going to make up for the fact that she’d left me in the lurch for a piece of tail.
Carla sighed and took a seat across from me. “Look, Marli… I’m sorry about this morning. The time just got away from me.”
“Mm-hmm. I imagine it did, Carla.”
“I’m trying to apologize. You gonna cut me some slack here?”
With a furrowed brow, I said, “Let’s see here. You lied about being sick so that you could play bedroom gymnastics with some guy you barely know, and then you just left me sitting outside the ER like some orphan. I had to catch a ride with that Justin Timberfake from the club. He could’ve been a serial killer or something! What kind of best friend are you?!”
Carla shook her head. “Naw, that white dude is way too fine to be a serial killer. A man can’t be that fine and be a psycho at the same time. It’s against the laws of nature.”
I rolled my eyes. “What is wrong with you? When did you start lying? Why would you leave me hanging like that?”
Carla dropped her head. “Look, I didn’t tell you about Quinton because I knew you’d judge me.”
“Judge you? Carla, you’re still married! I’m not judging you. I’m just concerned.”
“Yeah, well I don’t feel married anymore.”
“Yeah, but you are married, and what about your kids?”
“I talk to my boys every day. They’re fine. Bryan’s always been a good father. They’re in good hands.”
“I know that, but you need to get yourself together. You can’t just be sleeping with random guys, Carla. That’s dangerous.”
Carla shook her head. “I know what I’m doing, Marli. Just like you knew what you were doing with Darius.”
My eyes widened. “Wow, that was a low blow, Carla.”
She leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, you took it there. Anyway, who are you to judge me? I remember all those guys you hooked up with after your divorce.”
Dang, that stung. “You’re right, Carla. I did hook up with a bunch of guys, but I never pretended that what I was doing was right. I was hurt and mixed up in the head. And besides, the operative word is divorced. I was not married when I did that stuff.”
Without blinking an eye, she said, “I’m divorced in my heart.”
I shook my head. “Okay, I see that this conversation is going nowhere. I’m done talking about this, Carla. But you better be careful. You make a practice of calling in, and you’re gonna lose this gig.”
“Look, it was the only time Quinton had free to spend with me. And believe me, he was more than worth it!”
I looked up to heaven. “Lord, help her…”
She leaned forward. “No, really. He was grrreat! You should try him. I don’t mind, really.”
Was she for real? “No thanks, I’ll pass.”
She shrugged. “Your loss. Anyway, I’m sorry about not picking you up. Next time you can just take my truck.”
“Next time? Really, Carla? Whatever.” I stood to leave the kitchen.
“Wait!” she called after me. “Don’t you want something to eat? I’m fixing chicken cacciatore.”
Chicken cacciatore was my favorite, and she knew it, but I wasn’t about to break bread with her. “No. I think I just lost my appetite,” I said. “Oh, an
d I’m going to church with Carolyn and Ronda on Sunday. You might wanna join us.”
Nine
“Skin”
I woke up on Sunday morning with a smile. I hadn’t been to church since before we left Arkansas, and Lord knows with all I’d witnessed in the ER, I needed some spiritual food. I stretched and yawned and headed to my closet where I chose a black pencil skirt, gold blouse, and gold pumps. I showered, slipped on my robe, and headed to the kitchen for a quick breakfast. I was surprised to see Carla already at the table.