Babygirl and the Mean Boss

  She was eating soup when the door opened again. Marty walked in and Nicole felt herself smile cheerily before she quickly hid it. He was all cleaned up and wearing fresh clothes. For the second time in a week Nicole took a moment to admire his good looks, remembering the first time she’d seen him. She had stopped in the restaurant for a cup of coffee. Having just that day, moved into her small efficiency apartment, she was happy to see a restaurant within biking distance. Taking a seat at the bar she felt her stomach grumble as she sipped the coffee, enjoying the aroma that wafted from the kitchen and wishing that she had more than five dollars to spend.

  Amid all of the pleasant chatter, stood one silent man that seemed absorbed in flipping one thing, deep frying something else, placing orders up on the pass thru. She watched as he yanked down one order, filling it with quiet efficiency. Big was her first thought. He was tall and thickly built with solid muscles, though not like a body builder, more like a sleek linebacker.

  After finishing her coffee and breaking down to order a slice of lemon meringue pie that tasted like heaven and was obviously homemade, Nicole had asked the waitress if they needed any help. She had never worked in a restaurant before, but she knew what hard work was…and working backline with Marty was about as hard as it got.

  After her breath jaunt down memory lane, Nicole curiously watched him enter the room. He had a shopping bag in his hands.

  “How do you feel?”

  She reached for the remote control of the television set and turned down the volume.

  “Better. Sore. The doctor took out my I. V. And, I can eat and drink now.”

  “Good. I talked to him a minute ago. He said that I should be able to get you out of here tomorrow.”

  “That soon?” She asked, nervously.

  “You’ll be okay.” He assured her. “I went home and showered and brought you some of my sweats and a t-shirt to wear home.” He gestured to the shopping bag.

  Nicole’s brow went up in surprise. “Thanks, Marty. I wish I could get cleaned up, too...I still have blood all over me.”

  “Maybe you can.” He buzzed the nurse. When she responded he asked about a shower. She didn’t see any reason why not.

  Marty watched as the nurse removed the splint and brace. She carefully unwrapped the bandage from Nicole’s head. It was matted and tangled with dried blood. It disgusted her and she wished Marty wasn’t there to see it. He took his cue and eased out of the room making some vague statement about making a phone call.

  The nurse wouldn’t leave Nicole alone in the shower so she made it a quickie. It still felt good, but it scared her to see all the blood pooling around her feet.

  Painfully she got into a fresh gown and the nurse helped her to replace the brace.

  “I’ll be back in a jiff with fresh bandages and I’ll have your boyfriend come back in.”

  “Oh…that’s not….” Nicole felt her cheeks flush. “Thanks.” She mumbled.

  When Marty came back in he stared at her hair. It was washed and cleaned but a mess all over her head. What could she do about it, though? She had just discovered that she had forty stitches crisscrossing the back of her head!

  The nurse had left her with a very inadequate hairbrush. Using her good left hand she carefully dragged it through the tangle of curls.

  Marty grimaced along with her. “Careful…”

  “I’m trying-” She replied, feeling her face grow hot.

  “Here give it to me.” She looked at him uncertain but he took the brush out of her hand and tentatively began to brush the ends, gently gripping the length in his fist to avoid tugging the stitches. “Okay?”

  She nodded and he continued.

  Nicole was wide-eyed with shock. Kendall should be seeing this. This is truly unreal…Marty is doing her hair. Maybe she was still unconscious and this was all a freaky dream…

  “Marty?”

 

  “Yeah?” He mumbled in deep concentration at his task.

  “This is very weird…”

  He chuckled. “Please don’t tell anybody at work.” She liked the sound of that chuckle. It wasn’t something he did often.

  “Why are you being so nice to me?” She asked seriously.

  He paused in his struggle with her hair. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  She turned carefully and looked up at him. “I appreciate it, I really do. I just don’t understand…why you’ve stayed with me.” It embarrassed her to ask it in such a blunt way, but she truly didn’t understand. Marty was as cold and distant as they came; mumbling his greetings and finding fault easily. He was sarcastic and could curse a blue streak at the drop of a dime. On top of that he had a temper and was known to throw food, dishes, and spatulas when he was pissed. So, to see him brushing her hair with painstaking gentleness was – to say the least – disturbing.

  His gray eyes stared into her brown ones. Something stirred in Nicole; a warmth, something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

  “I feel partly responsible for what happened to you.”

  That surprised her. “But why?”

  “Because you’re on a bike--at night--alone.”

  “Why would you be responsible for that?”

  “Because…” He looked uncomfortable. Gently he turned her head back around so that he could continue brushing her hair. “Because you work for me and when you leave my establishment it should be safe for you to get home. I don’t think riding your bike in all weather, at night is particularly safe.”

  “You’ve…thought about this before?”

  “Yeah. I think about all you guys…even if you all think I’m just plain mean.”

  Nicole turned back around. His face was its normal stern but she saw a twinkle in his eye. Did he always have that twinkle? Was that how it really was with Marty? He wore a cold mask but it was only hiding that twinkle?

  The door opened and the nurse returned with a tray of antiseptic and gauze. With an approving smile she nodded at the sight of Marty grooming Nicole. “You’re lucky, Sweetie, to have such a good boyfriend. He never left your side once when you were unconscious.” Marty put down the brush but didn’t so much as open his mouth to correct the nurse’s assumption. Nicole kept her eyes lowered, confused and uncomfortable.

  The nurse cleaned and applied salve to her stitches. When she was finally finished torturing her poor scalp, she announced that they wouldn’t need bandages and warned her to clean the stitches once a day.

  How was she supposed to do that? She had shoulder length hair that was like a 1960s afro right now! She guessed that she should be thankful that she hadn’t had to get her head shaved. Not that she really cared about such things. The last thing she cared about was her looks.

  After the ordeal, Nicole had a killer headache and the nurse left leaving her more painkillers.

  Marty watched her as she grimaced trying to find a comfortable pillow arrangement for her head. Without being asked he plumped her pillow and adjusted her covers. Nicole stared at everything but him with a mixture of confusion and gratitude. For the first time the silence was awkward between them.

  She was reluctant to meet Marty’s gaze, because he was just standing there looking down at her; all muscled out in his t-shirt and recently shaved head and face. It wasn’t far-fetched; the nurse’s assumption that Marty was her man. He was acting like a very devoted boyfriend. Much more devoted then James had when she had last been in the hospital giving birth to their child. Marty cleared his throat and she finally looked up coming back to the present.

  “Nicole, do you have insurance?”

  She didn’t know what she had expected but it wasn’t that. The question had come out of clear blue and had shocked her so much that she had almost asked him if he offered health insurance because she sure missed that on the application for minimum wage backline cook! She caught herself in time.

  “I have a medical card.”

  “A medical card?” He asked confused.

  She gave him a long look. Yeah sh
e had been on welfare, and still continued to receive aid for college. She tossed him a half truthful answer. “I had to apply for it when I got the state assistance for college.”

  “Like welfare?” She could feel his judgment of her, and it stung.

  “Not like…is welfare.” She sank into her bed and pulled the covers up to her chin defensively. “Some people can afford college with their trust funds and good jobs.” She looked at him pointedly. “Most of us aren’t lucky enough to have those things.” A half beat passed in which she thought Marty was going to swoop down and bite her head off. Instead he blinked confused.

  Instantly she regretted her words. How could she be so insulting when Marty had been so kind? But instead of chewing her ass he never responded to her harsh words.

  “I’ll take your medical card down to the billing office so that we can get checked out tomorrow with no hold ups.” That statement made her feel even more like a shit.

  “It’s in my wallet, in my jacket pocket...wherever my jacket is.” She said contritely.

  “Your jacket is pretty much ruined.” She watched him walk to a small closet. Her coat was stuffed into a clear plastic bag. He rummaged around until he came up with her wallet. Without even a glance in her direction he opened it and began rifling around in it. Nicole kept her mouth clamped shut but she wanted to tell him to stop looking at her personal items and that he was nosey…but she knew deep down that it wasn’t so.

  Her eyes began to drift close. She wanted to apologize for being so bitchy but couldn’t figure out how to do it without making an already tense situation worse. She’d just tell him thanks…

  He glanced up from her wallet to her sleeping form. “Sleep tight, Baby Girl. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  She thought she might have said goodnight in return…but maybe not.

  The next day was a bright and beautiful Friday. Nicole could not believe that she had spent most of this week in the hospital.

  She dressed in the overly large clothes that Marty had left for her. Still not able to manage with the brace the nurse had to assist her. Neither was able to locate her bra and panties and she had a fleeting concern that Marty had taken them. But then she felt ashamed. More likely they had to be cut away.

  Marty walked through the door right before noon.

  “Sorry I’m so late-” Late? When everything he did was of his own volition.

  “Did you open the restaurant?” She asked.

  “Yeah. Fred’s holding the fort.”

  Nicole made a humphing noise. “Good thing you didn’t fire him.”

  “What?”

  Again she felt a flash of shame. What in the hell was wrong with her?! Marty had been going out of his way to help her. “Nothing,” she got out of bed while he stepped out the door and returned with a wheelchair.

  She gave him a surprised look. “Oh no-”

  “Sorry, Baby Girl. It’s the rule.” He helped her sit down and noticed that her shoes weren’t on. Kneeling in front of her he slipped them on and tied the laces efficiently. Damn, he had a big neck, she thought in admiration. She liked her men on the thicker side…what?! Stop it, she chastised herself.

  “Ready?”

  “You wouldn’t believe how.”

  ~***~

  As she waited for him to open the passenger door to his truck, Nicole wondered if she had left any permanent stains on the seat. She’d have the car reupholstered if she had. No matter if it cost her two months salary! She was pleased to see when he helped her inside that the seats were sparkly clean. She didn’t mention it.

  He pulled her seat belt on, careful about the injured shoulder then he quickly hopped in.

  The drive was silent for the most part although Marty periodically glanced in her direction.

  She noted that he was taking a strange route to her apartment. He pulled up to the driveway of a condo—a nice one.

  “Where’s this?” She asked.

  “My place.” He got out of the truck and opened her door. She looked at him in confusion and then took his offered hand and climbed out of the truck.

  “What are we doing here?” Marty took her arm and led her up the walk.

  “You’ll see.”

  Oh please, don’t let this be some surprise welcome home party. With all the activity of leaving the hospital, her head was starting to ache. Reluctantly she allowed herself to be guided inside.

  Marty’s home was very nice. And there was no one in sight. She looked at him confused. Silently he led her into a living room decorated comfortably in muted earth tones. He helped her sit down in an oversized armchair and then he sat on the sofa across from her.

  “You’re staying here.”

  The expression on Nicole’s face spoke more than words ever could. He continued quickly before she could object.

  “Now, I’ve thought about this Nicole. You can’t be by yourself these first couple of days. Someone needs to care for your stitches-”

  “Marty, I can’t-”

  He stood up. “Yes. You can. I’ve made up the spare room for you-”

  She was shaking her head, which wasn’t a good idea with the intensifying headache. “I appreciate it Marty. I really do! But-”

  He kneeled on his haunches in front of her and touched her hand. Reluctantly he spoke the words that he had hoped he would not have to. “Nicole, you don’t realize how close you came to dying. I didn’t want the doctor to dwell on that with you because I didn’t think it would help you to know.” His expression grew apologetic. “I had to pretend to be your…boyfriend in order to get any information out of him.” He sighed. “Baby…your head shattered. They want you wearing a helmet for 4 weeks just so that if you fall you won’t…”

  What?! Nicole’s mouth opened and then closed, heart thudding in her chest anxiously. “Wha-? Shattered?!”

  Marty licked his lips just sick at having to tell her this, and at the look of fear on her face. “I don’t want to scare you. But because of your skull fracture,” he shook his head then looked at her carefully, “you black-out all the time; several times a day. But you don’t seem to know it.” Nicole’s eyes squeezed closed and then open as streaks of pain shot through her head. Just the confusion of information was impossible to absorb and now her head was freaking killing her. Besides, it wasn’t her head that was causing her to black out, if that is what she was doing. It was the drugs. She was just blacking out because she was on the nod, right? She didn’t even know how to form words to explain that but couldn’t because that was her business not his.

  Nicole tried to reach up to rub her throbbing head but couldn’t. Her mind was trying to grasp the information that he had just told her. Had the doctor said anything about blacking out? He’d mentioned seizures but said they should go away…only she hadn’t had any so didn’t think about his words. But had she been having seizure all alone? How in the hell was this going to impact her life? Would she just freaking keel over during her day to day life? She briefly closed her eyes as sharp, pains shot through her skull, forgetting about Marty for the time being. Each beat of her heart seemed to amplify it. She was trying to reach up with her arm in the sling, not remembering why she couldn’t do it.

  “Are you okay?” Marty asked.

  “My head…”

  “You need to lie down,” he insisted.

  “I’ll be okay…” She tried to tell him that she didn’t want to lie down anywhere except in her own bed, in her own apartment but she couldn’t think clearly enough to form the words.

  “Nicole?” She was just staring into space like she’d been hypnotized.

  Marty paled. “Nicole!” He waved his hand in front of her face. His heartbeat quickened. She was having a seizure.

  Marty cursed the woman that had done this to Nicole for the millionth time. If the cops ever found the woman--old motherly type of not—she was going to be sorry!

  In opposition to his rage, Marty gently lifted her into his arms and carried her upstairs. He lay her down in the spa
re bedroom, pulled her shoes off and carefully tucked the covers around her. Her eyes still stared into empty space; vacant but periodically blinking.

  He watched her for a while wanting to do so much more to help her…How many times had he secreted looks at Nicole as they worked the back line together. Over the last few days, as she healed, he had been able to watch her to his heart’s content, but there was no joy in seeing her broken like this.

  How could this be the same woman that had walked into the restaurant with wild curls held back by sunglasses and a beat up jeans jacket. He had scanned her application quickly, appreciating her height and well proportioned thickness. And he had thought that she looked enough like that actress from the movie Love and Basketball that he had taken a second look.