Page 27 of Tyriq & Teaira
“Oh okay. Thanks for my massage last night. You put me right to sleep.”
“I’ll massage you whenever you want.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, because after working a long ass shift, I might take you up on that.”
It’s obvious she’s trying to stall our talk and I just go with it until she says this job shit. That jumps us right into the talk.
“You not gon’ keep working now, are you?” I ask.
“Now what?”
“Now that you’re pregnant. All the germs and shit in there.”
“In a hospital? The very place people go when they are sick? Yes. I most certainly will keep working. Pregnancy is not a debilitating illness. There are a number of pregnant nurses and doctors all through Highland. I’m definitely working and going in tomorrow for my regular shift,” she says with a slight attitude.
“But they are not carrying my child.”
“Our child, remember? We. Your word. And again, with our child in my stomach, I’m taking my ass back to work. That’s my job, my career, and my means to pay my bills.”
“Man, fuck them bills. I’ll pay them shits,” I grit.
“It’s not about that,” she says in an elevated tone. Then she pulls back from me but I grab her. “Stop, Tyriq.”
“Stop trying to run then.”
“When you stop trying to fucking control me!” she spits.
“Ay. I’m not trying to control you. I just want to make sure you and the baby are safe.”
“And what about fuck them bills?”
“Same thing. I just want to take care of you two.”
“I don’t need that.”
“But I need that. I’ve been wanting you to stop working at that damn hospital. You have been talking about leaving the ER for months. You hate the shit.”
“I hate the long, exhausting hours but I love my job. I love being a nurse. I don’t want to leave the hospital, just that department. That’s like me asking you to stop playing basketball. You won’t do that and I won’t stop being a nurse, so let’s stop talking about that.”
She sounds so passionate, and while I don’t want her at the hospital at all, I don’t push it because I get it. I don’t like the shit but I get it. So I pivot.
“Do you know how far along you are?”
“I mean not really but I can guess. After my blood test came back positive, I sat my ass down and counted back my periods. My last one was—”
“February,” I utter and she shifts.
“You track my period?” she asks, sounding shocked as hell.
“Nah. It’s just that it was the week of the BU game. I came over and you were cramping. I just remembered.”
“Yeah. It was February but I’ll know for sure soon. I’m going to call my doctor tomorrow and make an appointment. I’ll let you know when I go.”
“Just let me know when the appointment is, I’m going to.”
“You don’t have to,” she insists.
“But I am. I’m with you through all this shit. You might not want me to be but I need to take care of you and our baby, so let me. Matter of fact, get dressed.”
