Chapter 3 #2
“Too late.” Kenya gestured to her foot with a groan.
Adanne laughed and waved. John caught her hand, kissed it, and led her out of the emergency room exit. They had a hotel stay in Nashville and then a flight to catch on their way to an extended honeymoon in Europe, with a stopover in Iceland.
Kenya’s thoughts drifted to that country and a recent post she’d seen about their architectural wonder of a conference center.
The structure was built to resemble the basalt columns of the island nation.
What would it be like to host an event there?
Images of Scandi design and hues of gray, blue, black, and cream filtered into her thoughts.
Speaking of the land of fire and ice. Her foot felt like an inferno, and she could use some glacial-level numbing power on it right about now. She shifted, groaning in the process.
“Hey, are you okay?”
Kenya blinked as that familiar warm timbre infiltrated her thoughts. The cadence and lilt that carried authority and compassion in one smooth tone. Too bad that voice never called her back after their first date.
SOLOMON TIPPED his mouth in amusement, which elicited a frown from Mrs. Stewart, who stood possessively next to her daughter.
He’d seen a lot of things during his rotations in the hospital, but something about the scene of the bride fussing over her cousin and the groom eager to whisk his bride away made him smile.
Not to mention Kenya fluttering her eyes like sleeping beauty, trying desperately to stay engaged despite her obvious pain.
Chuckling over this scene was probably not at all appropriate since she wasn’t at the hospital for a party like the first time he’d seen her.
Over a year ago he’d volunteered to help lead the kids’ unit to the activity room for their surprise party.
Solomon knew many of the children since he worked with them during physical therapy, helping them strengthen their muscles, some relearning how to walk after being bedbound for so long.
He had gone to the party because of the kids, but he’d stayed because of her. Her brief glance his way before she left was enough to be memorable. He saw Kenya again shortly after, when they had a short, stilted conversation at the reopening of the community center in Hope Springs.
The pieces then fell into synchronized order in his mind, leading up to the moment he worked up the nerve to ask her out when they walked out of the center together.
Now, as her eyes blinked rapidly, he squelched the longing to step closer.
Kenya whimpered, a sound of pain that drew her mother closer and tugged at his chest in an inexplicable way. He really needed to get going, especially since he’d left his friend hanging.
His eyes slid over her physique, medical observation trumping any other motive in his perusal. Golden gown torn down one leg, no shoes on, right ankle elevated and looking to be twice the size of the left. Ouch. Her foot looked worse than when they’d arrived.
“Has she been called back yet?” He directed his question to her mother, who observed him with wariness. She was grateful for him delivering them to the hospital, no doubt, but she seemed to also be quite aware of his attachment to her daughter.
“I registered her, but I haven’t heard anything yet.” She looked around the waiting room. “I know it’s a Saturday night, but there doesn’t seem to be many people here. She shouldn’t have to wait so long in pain.”
He agreed. And she also shouldn’t have to nod off and on in what must be an uncomfortable wheelchair. She needed to get her ankle checked out and rest. She looked exhausted.
“I’ll go see what I can do.”
He ignored Kenya’s protest and headed to the counter to determine what the holdup was.
“Dr. Anruchi, we haven’t seen you around here in a while.”
He turned away from the intake receptionist to the nurse who’d just stepped behind the desk. “Audrey. My favorite charge nurse.” He grinned and walked toward her. They’d worked a few hours together in the overlap of past schedules. He’d known her to be an efficient and compassionate professional.
“Oooh-wee, look at you. You sure do clean up nice! Did you get tired of all those steady, reliable hours in outpatient?” She tapped a couple folders together on the quartz countertop, the corner of her mouth lifting with a smirk.
He rested an elbow on the surface. Hopefully her jovial nature would work in his—well, Kenya’s—favor. “I haven’t abandoned you all completely. I’m almost done with my residency at the sports clinic, but I still get called in-house from time to time. And yes, I do enjoy my mostly consistent sleep.”
He leaned closer. “How quickly are the guests getting called in to triage during this shift?”
Audrey narrowed her eyes. “You’re not judging us, are you?”
He chuckled. “Never. I’m just checking on behalf of a patient I came in with. She’s had a nasty fall and is in pain.”
Audrey looked over his shoulder. “That’s a pretty dress.”
Solomon shook his head. “Priorities.”
She leaned forward, almost bumping into his shoulder. “I heard there was a little bit of a commotion in here. Of course, besides the usual. I saw the tail end of a bride and groom, our Hope Springs celebrities. Was she a part of the wedding?”
Solomon remembered the story one nurse had told him about a cesarean section last January. While the mother was being cut open, the medical crew shared updates about the Alabama football score.
“Hey, Audrey, can you focus on the patient who is here?” he said playfully.
She fanned herself. “It’s hard to focus when fine is in the room, honey.” She winked at him. “But he’s not as handsome as you, of course.”
She grinned, her hazel eyes sparkling behind her thick glasses. “Don’t worry, your girlfriend is about to be called up, and lucky for her, Dr. Grant is on rotation.”
Solomon cleared his throat. “Great to hear . . . about Dr. Grant. He’s always good at treating these types of injuries. But she’s not my girlfriend.”
Audrey peered at him. “Hmm, okay, whatever you say. You don’t have to pretend you don’t care.” She sashayed from around the desk. “Especially since the reason you came my way was to check on her progression.”
“Sounds like my cue to leave.” He scanned the counter, but there was nothing here for him to review. Most of his visits to the hospital outside of his morning shifts were for patient referrals before or after surgeries.
Audrey walked with him toward the waiting room. “We sure miss your presence around here. You got a busy weekend ahead of you?”
He shoved his hands into his pockets, willing himself not to look in Kenya’s direction. “Since I shifted my schedule to attend this wedding, I need to get some studying done.”
“Oh, that’s right, you have the big exam coming up in a couple months, right? Have you even registered yet?”
Solomon tipped his head. “You always remember everybody’s stuff.” He paused right before the main part of the waiting room. “And yes, I’ll get to that. For now, I’ve got dinner with my mom and dad and siblings.”
Audrey crossed her arms over pink scrubs. “I bet you’re a mama’s boy. The way you said her name first, with the rest as afterthoughts.”
He chuckled. “Mama’s boy?”
“Don’t laugh like that. I see your denial. I married one, so I have firsthand experience.”
“I’ll let you think what you want.”
Audrey’s playful tone didn’t help diminish the tightening in his chest. He was excited about seeing his family, but the arrival of his parents filled him with dread.
They would expect answers from him that he didn’t have and for the timeline they had set in place to start coming to a close.
What they wanted for him would be exciting to most, but in all the plans they’d carefully laid out, they hadn’t factored in him falling in love with this place.
He enjoyed helping his patients, and now that he was in an outpatient clinic, he was able to build regular connections based not on his name but on his skill.
Once upon a time, he’d been excited to walk in his father’s footsteps. Unbeknownst to his parents, the path they had set him on hadn’t made him a better protégé, instead it shifted his attention to the most unlikely of places. But they wouldn’t allow him to veer off the path for too much longer.
These were not thoughts he would vocalize anytime soon to anyone, much less his parents or siblings.
He’d watched his parents’ faces melt in disapproval when his sister Nneka started her post-grad career in social work instead of accounting.
But that hadn’t deterred her ability to work for their company on the side or to snag financially stable boyfriends.
At least that helped buffer what her parents had seen as a foolish choice.
And when his younger brother Simon initially wanted to pursue entrepreneurship, he might as well have bought a tombstone for his parents while he was at it.
So, to appease them and pick up his older brother’s slack, Simon took a detour and grudgingly made his passion a side dish instead of the main course.
Because, in their minds, what self-respecting child of Nigerian immigrants would even conjure up such a thing?
Content creation? Was that another way to say poverty cultivation?
Solomon willed away the melancholy creeping in.
There was enough heaviness in the emergency room, no need to add his own.
He lifted his hand in departure from Audrey, who was already processing a patient discharge.
He glanced at the princess in the wheelchair, a twinge shifting that heavy weight just a little.
Solomon’s watch lit up. A text with four urgent words. DUDE, WHERE ARE YOU? He should probably call his friend since the message had come in all capital letters. That was just about equivalent to yelling, in his book.
He backed away with reluctance. Kenya waved her fingers at him, her features pinched. He hated not being able to ease her discomfort. Or maybe the fact that he was probably partly the cause for it.