Smoke (4 page)

The strong scent of her perfume was enough to choke an elephant and the length of her fake hair could swing monkeys from tree to tree, spaced miles apart. But, most of all, she observed Jonathan’s body reactions. He was obviously enjoying the gratitude the smelly woman with the velvety mocha skin, was showering over him.

“I’m Jonathan but I’m sure Amira remembers my name.”

The hospital representative witnessed the strange vibrations settling in the room and said. “Well, we should get going and let Mr. DeMinico and Ms. King go back to what they were doing.”

“Of course,” Sandra said reaching inside her purse. “Jonathan, I would love to take you to dinner once you’re feeling able and if you are available—I wouldn’t want to step on a Mrs. DeMinico’s toes.”

He stammered before answering with Gabrielle standing so close. He had flirted with her earlier and it was obvious Sandra was doing the same to him. If he played into the temptations of Sandra, he would come off as the womanizer he’d been tagged by his friends. “Um, no I’m not married and the sweater is enough. You don’t have to do a dinner,” he managed to squeak from his parched lips.

She handed him a business card running her tongue across her heavily painted red lips. “If you change your mind about dinner let me know. Either way, Amira and I would love to keep in touch with you. My information is on the card.”

He took the card between his fingertips, holding it like it was contaminated.

“Sure, Amira can have a tour of the fire station if she wants; just call my Lieutenant and he’ll set aside time for you to come by.”

The girl’s eyes lit up instantly. “Mom, can we go today!”

“Amira, wouldn’t it be more fun to do it when Jonathan is back at work? Why don’t we wait for him to return to the fire station before we do the tour?”

Gabrielle rolled her eyes wishing the woman with the wide hips and big breasts would take her cute little kid and exit the room. She could not understand the aggravation she was having with their presence considering she’d only met Jonathan a few hours earlier.

Sandra reveled in the displeasure plastered on the therapist’s face and decided to work her dander even more. “Okay, honey, give Jonathan a hug. We should go and let him rest; we’ll come back tomorrow and visit with him for a while.”

Jonathan braced for the pain, but was surprised Amira’s hug was gentle and did not hurt when she squeezed her arms around his neck. “Thank you for the sweater, Amira; I love it.”

Next Sandra came over to him. The fleshy portion of her double-D breasts shook like jelly and spilled further over the top of her dress when she bent down to hug him.

Even though he had the oxygen nose tube inserted, her strong perfume penetrated his nasal passages sending a searing burn down his sensitive throat; forcing him to wheeze severely.

Gabrielle moved the woman away as she came from the side of the bed to help him. “Please move away from him. Your perfume is causing this to happen.”

The hospital representative ushered the visitors from the room, saying, “I’ll send in the nurse.”

“Just get her out of here!” She said filling a syringe with heparin.”

Jonathan flipped through the limited channels on the television. He was tired of watching food shows, talk shows and health shows dealing with acute and chronic illnesses. Clicking it off, he opened the Men’s fitness magazine lying on the tray table next to his plate of uneaten food. Five days of hospital confinement had driven him stir crazy. The doctor was supposed to be making a decision on releasing him but his apparent no-show was giving him reason to believe he would not be sleeping in his own bed.

Frustrated, he hit the tray table with the palm of his bandaged hand knocking over a can of ginger ale. “Dammit!” He cursed grabbing a towel to stop the liquid from spreading.

“Are we having a bad day?”

“You wouldn’t believe how fucking bad!” He barked before looking to see whom he was talking too. He raised his head to see Gabrielle standing at the side of his bed.

“Excuse my language. I’m just—“

“Don’t apologize to me. I would be frustrated too if I were confined to bed.”

“Five days of this crap is enough,” he grumbled, wiping wet soda from his robe.

“Then to make it worse, you take advantage of me and then dump Millie on me again—

I thought we were friends?”

“I know I will hate myself for asking, but how did I take advantage of you?”

“Millie never warms her stethoscope before touching me.”

“Millie and I use different techniques and it doesn’t mean I only do that for you.”

Her sultry eyes had him swirling. “I beg to differ; I know you like me. So where have you been? You get me all hot and bothered the other day and drop me.”

“You’re part of Millie’s caseload and I’ve been too busy with my own patients to take on hers.”

“How do I go about getting you permanently?”

“You can’t. Millie is over me and practically runs the department.”

Taking the fork from his tray he pounded lightly on the table. “I demand that be changed; who do I call?”

“You are so silly and I’m flattered,” she said sitting at the foot of the bed to keep a safe distance between them. “I only stopped by to see if you were still here since I was on the floor. You look a lot better than the last time I saw you.”

“You think so?” Jonathan opened his robe. “Do you wanna listen to my chest and make sure everything’s in working order?”

Gabrielle noticed the redness in his eyes was lessening, giving the hazel color of his irises prominence. She took her stethoscope from around her neck and placed the ends in her ears. Holding it in the air, she joked. “I hear the heavy gurgling from here.

My advice would be you stay a few more days.”

Jonathan rolled the tray table aside moving his legs to the side of the bed to sit upright. With nothing separating them, he lowered his baritone voice saying, “Is that your diagnoses or your wish, Ms. King?”

Mesmerized by his closeness, Gabrielle’s mouth went dry. She could not

pinpoint what was causing the strong attraction to this stranger. She’d been in the company of handsome White, Asian, Latino and even some Arab men and never been affected by them. Besides, she’d never been asked out by a White man nor had any openly flirted with her. The occasional sideways glance would be all she would get when she would walk by a few, but nothing verbal like Jonathan DeMinico was doing.

Jonathan nudged her with his shoulder. “Well?”

She blinked clearing her head. “I should be going. I have to drop off samples to the lab and get to some other stuff on my list.” She checked her watch. “Wow, time sure flies when you’re goofing off.”

He grabbed hold of her wrist. “Not this time. You keep making excuses to leave just as we’re getting to know each other.”

“Jonathan, this is unethical. You’re a patient in a hospital where I’m employed; I have to keep our relationship professional.”

“You only treated me once, so technically, I’m not your patient.”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter if I treated you or not. I can’t get involved with a patient.”

A loud knock on the door interrupted them. The physician tending to his care entered the room.

“Mr. DeMinico,” the doctor said loudly.

Jonathan released Gabrielle’s wrist and watched her ease off the bed to stand by the window. “Dr. Goldberg, I hope this is the visit I’ve been waiting for all day.”

“Indeed it is. Are you ready to go home?”

“Is the sky blue; c’mon—don’t play with me, Doc.”

“Yeah, okay, I won’t. You’re being released today but there are restrictions.”

“Restrictions—like what?” He frowned.

“You have to do outpatient therapy to get rid of the remaining soot in your lungs. I want you to make an appointment with respiratory therapy before you leave today; they will decide how often you should come in for treatments.”

“No problem, I can do that. When can I return to work?”

“In about four to six weeks. You have four broken ribs that gotta heal. How do you expect to haul heavy gear with broken ribs?”

“Damn, I forgot about those. What am I gonna do for six weeks?”

“You can start by relaxing and getting your lungs healthy. I’m sending you home with a portable oxygen tank. If you do okay without it during the day, that’s fine, but I want you wear it night. Do you have anyone at home or, anyone that can check on you daily?”

“Doc, I’m a firefighter and don’t need a babysitter.”

“I’m not saying you do, but you live in an apartment with a lot of stairs; you’ll get winded easily and might need assistance, Mr. Firefighter.”

Nick and Anthony entered the room and stood by the door not wanting to

interrupt what the doctor was saying to Jonathan. Anthony assumed from the tone of the conversation Jonathan was being released from the hospital.

Jonathan shook his head. “No, I don’t have anyone to check on me during the day, but I know how to call for help if I need it.”

Anthony spoke out of turn answering for Jonathan. “Doc, my sister will be more than happy to keep an eye on Jon. She has a big house with a bedroom on the first floor just waitin’ on him.”

The doctor turned around to give Anthony the thumbs-up. “Great! Good luck, Mr. DeMinico. The nurse will be in with instructions on follow-up care and your discharge papers.” He shook Jonathan’s hand. “I’ll see you in my office next week.”

Excited, he got off the bed ripping off his robe until he remembered Gabrielle was in the room. “Guys, I want you to meet Gabrielle King. She’s the best damn respiratory therapist in this place and hopefully, since I’m no longer a patient, she will become a personal friend.”

“Finally we get to meet the famous Gabrielle he talks so much about. I’m Anthony, also a firefighter, and that big dude standing by the bathroom door is Nick.”

Gabrielle lowered her shoulders when Anthony raised her hand to kiss the back of it. “It’s a pleasure meeting both of you.” Removing her hand from Anthony’s, she walked to the door. “I will leave you all to chat. Congrats, on your release, Jonathan.

Take care of yourself.”

Jonathan stood dumbfounded by her sudden departure. “What the hell was

that? Before you guys interrupted we were getting down to real business.”

Nick laughed. “Yeah, the real business of her flipping you off; we saved you the embarrassment of that happening.”

Anthony strutted to the door. “I’ll be right back. I gotta take care of a lil’

something.”

“Where the hell is he going?” Jonathan asked throwing his robe on the bed.

“Seriously—you wanna pretend you don’t know what he’s going to do?”

“He wouldn’t do that knowing how I feel about her.”

“We’re talking about Anthony! I gotta say she’s a hot little number but a little on the cold side.”

“Nick, she’s not like that at all. She’s feeling me, but she’s letting something else block our flow.”

“Well flow or no flow, she high-tailed it out that door not giving a damn about you. Suck it up, bro; not all women are into firefighters, or, maybe she has a man.”

“I wasn’t getting that vibe from her. She got real irritated when Sandra Rhodes visited me. She was acting all jealous. It’s something else, Nick.”

“Who is Sandra Rhodes?”

“The mother of the victim I rescued.”

Nick’s evil eyes lit up. “Oh yeah, what was the momma like?”

“She was OK; she did have a banging body but she’s not my type.”

“Why—cause she ain’t the therapist chick?”

“No because there is a father for her kid somewhere, and I ain’t trying to be part of any drama. I need a woman with no kids or exes in the picture.”

“Good luck finding that if you continue to pursue those types of women.”

Jonathan frowned. “Nick, what the hell do you mean by that?”

“I’m being real, Jon. If you want to mess with women of other races, you should expect them to have a bunch of kids with different daddies. Shit, most of the time the whole damn family will be living under the same roof with the ex in the basement. The facts speak for themselves.”

“You need to get off that, Nick. Not all black women fall in that category. I happen to love Black women and prefer to be with them. If you gotta a problem with that—tough shit! And, who are you to make dumbass comments about absent fathers!

You forget you got a kid you don’t see often.”

“I’m divorced and my situation is totally different!”

“It doesn’t change the fact that Dana is a white woman with a kid you don’t see, but you’re not putting her in some stupid ass category.”

“Whatever. Don’t take it out on me because Gabrielle ain’t throwing you any play.”

The anger resonated in Jonathan’s voice. “Nick, lately you’ve voiced some nasty comments about the women I’ve dated. Do you remember some of the shit you said about Kimi when we were dating?”

“Come on, man that was eons ago, and I still don’t believe she was born in Japan; her English was better than mine.”

“Yeah it was a long time ago, and it still bothers me. I’m surprised Anthony stays friends with you because of the shit you say. A lot of it is downright racist and it makes me look bad.”

“How am I making you look bad?”

Jonathan poked a finger in Nick’s shoulder saying, “Because I’m usually around when the stupid comments fall from your big mouth. I’m tired of getting
guilt by
association
looks.”

“Sorry I stepped on a sore-spot. And, just so you know, I don’t have a problem with black women or you banging them; now those other ones, I might have had a problem with.” Nick placed a hand on Jonathan’s shoulder. “Think about this—just maybe the pretty therapist doesn’t dig white dudes. I say let it go and move on to a woman that will appreciate what you have to offer; it ain’t like you will see her again.”

Jonathan shook his head. “She is the one I want. Gabrielle King is the woman I have been waiting to meet my whole life.”

“Sorry it didn’t formulate the way you wanted, man. Get dressed so we can get out of this depressing place.”