No Ordinary Love (41 page)

Trina swung the netbook toward her. “What should I put for name?”

“Tony and Trina,” Tony said.

“Um, you’re the one buying the house,” Trina said. Trina added “Art E.” as Tony’s middle name. “So they take us seriously,” Trina said. “What time should I tell them?”

Tony blinked. “I do not know.”

“How about eleven?” Trina asked.

“Okay,” Tony said.

Trina listed both her and Tony’s cell phone numbers and sent the e-mail. She held his hand. “Promise me you’ll always dream with me like this.”

“I promise to dream with you,” Tony said.

“Do you want me to promise you anything?” Trina asked.

“Promise to teach me new things,” Tony said.

“Like what?” Trina asked.

“Like how to cook beef stew or how to make sheets soft or how to make a bathtub shiny or how to wash dishes or how to give you more orgasms or how to wash clothes or how to drive a car or how to swim—”

“Hold up,” Trina interrupted. “You want me to teach you how to give me
more
orgasms?”

“Yes,” Tony said. “I want you to teach me other ways. I know if I press your button or you press your button or you put shower water on your button you will have an orgasm.”

Trina stood and dragged Tony to the bedroom. “I’m going to teach you another way.”

Tony took off all his clothes in less than ten seconds. “I am ready.”

Having a gorgeous naked man in front of me certainly helps our lesson.

“Take off your clothes, Trina,” Tony said.

And having a man asking me to take off my clothes helps, too, but not as much as having him take them off for me.
“I want you to take off my clothes.”

Tony unzipped her pants and pulled them down.

“Slowly, Tony,” Trina said. “Build up some anticipation.”

“How slowly?” Tony asked.

She bent down, pulled up her pants, and zipped her fly. “I’ll talk you through it.”

“Okay.”

She closed her eyes. “Unzip my pants.” She heard the zipper and felt his fingers. “Remove my pants a little at a time.” She felt his fingers tugging at her pants, felt his fingers sliding down her thighs and calves. She felt Tony pick up one foot and then the other. “Stand up and unbutton my shirt from the top down. Count to . . . five between buttons.” She felt his hands and fingers on her chest and then her stomach. “Take off my shirt.” She felt his hands on her arms and shoulders. “Undo my bra and throw it somewhere.” She felt his fingers on her back and heard the bra hitting the wall. “Now using only your teeth, take off my underwear.”

Trina felt nothing for a solid minute.

She opened one eye and looked down. “Um, are you okay down there?”

“I am analyzing the problem,” Tony said. He nodded. “Turn around.”

Gladly.
Trina closed her eyes, turned around, and felt hot hands on her legs, felt little nibbles at the tops of her buttocks, felt a nose go between her buttocks, felt herself getting moist as her underwear slid down her legs. One foot rose and then the other. “Lead me to the bed.” She felt Tony’s hand grab hers until her thighs contacted the edge of the bed. She reclined, resting her head on a pillow. “Now . . . spread my legs as wide as you can.” She felt his hot hands gripping her ankles, and she started to pant. “Now put your tongue on my button.”

“Small circles or big circles?” Tony whispered.

“Oh, it doesn’t matter,” Trina said. “Circles, lots of circles.” She felt the tip of Tony’s tongue on her clitoris.

“Your button is hard,” he whispered. “It does not hurt.”

“No,” Trina whispered, reaching down and holding on to Tony’s hair.

“I am sorry I keep asking questions,” Tony said.

She felt his tongue making small circles. “Don’t be.” She felt him stop.

“How will I know you have had an orgasm this way?” Tony asked.

“I will pull your hair and try to strangle you with my thighs,” Trina groaned.
Just don’t keep stopping like that!

“You will strangle me,” Tony said.

“I’m going to try to,” Trina whispered. “And when I do, that’s when you spread my legs even wider and put yourself deep inside me, okay?”

“Okay.”

Tony’s tongue returned. Trina hummed Aaliyah’s “Rock the Boat,” and as she bucked her hips and cried out, she felt something hard and massive enter her. “Don’t stop, don’t stop . . .”

“You did not strangle me,” Tony said.

“I’d be crazy if I did that, Tony,” she said, reaching up and clawing at his chest.

“I am very deep,” Tony said. “It does not hurt.”

It does a little, but I don’t want to explain that to him now.
“Just . . . don’t stop.”

“I will not stop,” Tony said, and he made the bed rock.

Oh, I hope we’re making a snowflake child to play hide-and-seek with in our new ten-million-dollar home.

And even if we aren’t, we are going to rock this bed all night long.

40

A
fter spending most of Sunday in bed, interrupted only by a long shower and a quick trip to Brooklyn Pizza on Jones Street for Philly cheesesteak sandwiches and a large New York Specials pizza, and after another night of fierce and passionate bliss, Trina and Tony walked hand in hand through a gantlet of reporters in front of Saint Francis Memorial Hospital at 6:30 AM on Monday morning.

“Trina, how does it feel to be almost unemployed?”

“How does it feel to throw away your career?”

“Will you be going to the Grammys, Tony?”

“Trina, are you wearing the shoes Tony bought you?”

“Tony, how does it feel to be dating a liar?”

I want to tell them I’m in love with Tony,
Trina thought.
I want to tell them I will miss this job so much. I want to tell them I will miss helping people with the wonderful people here. I want to tell them about the snowflake children we’ve been trying to make. I want to tell them I lied for love, but they’ll only twist my words into more lies.

“You are saying nothing,” Tony said.

“I have learned a thing or two from you,” Trina said.

“I am not a teacher,” Tony said.

“You’re the best teacher I’ve ever had,” Trina said. “You’ve taught me that silence is loudest sometimes.”

“Silence is very loud today,” Tony said.

They entered the hospital and rode the elevator up to the fourth floor. When the elevator doors opened, a crowd of smiling and cheering nurses blocked their exit.

Trina hugged Naini and several of the other “dark” nurses. “What are you all doing here?”

“We are here to give you moral support,” Naini said. “We are all rooting for you.”

“Thank you,” Trina said. “Thank you all.” She pulled Tony out of the elevator. “This is Tony.”

“Hi, Tony,” the nurses said in unison.

“Hello,” Tony said, his eyes looking around them.

Is he blushing?
Trina thought.
My goodness! His cheeks are red. This has to be a first.

One nurse took a quick picture of Tony with her cell phone. “Sorry,” she said. “I couldn’t resist.”

Tony smiled. “It is okay. I hope Trina is in the picture, too. It is only a good picture if Trina is in it.”

“Aww,” the nurses cooed.

Tony blushed again.

“You should really get back to work,” Trina said, taking Tony’s hand and moving toward a door marked with a D
ISCIPLINARY
R
EVIEW
B
OARD
I
N
S
ESSION
sign. “ES is on the other side of this door,” she whispered. “I’ll try to keep her occupied for as long as I can.”

All the nurses but Naini scattered down the hallways. “I will be thinking of you.” She hugged Trina tenderly, squeezed Tony’s free hand, and left.

Tony blinked. “Naini hugged you with her whole body. Does Naini love you?”

“As a friend,” Trina said. “She’s nervous for me, Tony. Sometimes women hug each other like that to calm themselves down.”

“Are you nervous?” Tony asked.

“Not if you’re out here waiting for me when this is over,” Trina said.

Tony’s phone rang. “I do not recognize the number,” he said.

“It could be the Realtor,” Trina said. “Answer it.”

“Yes, I am Tony Santangelo. . . . Yes, I play the piano.... Trina Woods will be with me. . . . Eleven o’clock today. I will see you then.” He put his phone into his pocket. “We will go look at our house at eleven o’clock today.”

Yes! Our house!
“I don’t know how long this will take, but I hope not long. Why don’t you wait in the lounge at the end of the hall?” She gave him some change. “You can get something from the vending machine.”

“Okay.” He kissed her cheek.

Trina sighed. “Wish me luck.”

“I wish you luck.” Tony winked.

Trina smiled. “You winked at me, Tony.”

“I must try to keep this relationship fresh.”

She draped her arms around his neck. “After this weekend, we can only get fresher.” She kissed him on the chin. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay.”

Trina opened the door and walked toward a single white plastic chair in front of a long metal table, three ancient and balding white doctors sitting at attention on either side of Nurse Sprouse.

Oh, this is fair. There’s not a single person of color in here, ES included, and not a single real nurse.
Trina sat.
Let’s get this over with. I have to go see my new house at eleven.

“Before we begin, Miss Woods, do you have anything to say?” Nurse Sprouse asked.

Oh now it’s “Miss” Woods. The truth shall set me free? I doubt it, but here goes.
“I was not sick when I said I was, and I am sorry.”
I’ve admitted my faults, now give me the punishment so I can get out of here and get down to Franklin Street.

“Anything else, Miss Woods?” Nurse Sprouse asked.

“No.”

“No explanation for
why
you lied to me,” Nurse Sprouse said.

I knew she couldn’t let me get away that easily.
“I don’t owe you that explanation. You wouldn’t understand it anyway. Are we done here? Pass your verdict, give me your judgment, and send me on my way.”

“What wouldn’t I understand, Miss Woods?” Nurse Sprouse asked.

Should I even care? I should. I have a lot of other nurses rooting for me.
“You wouldn’t understand love,
Miss
Sprouse.”

“Does this mean you were absent because you were lovesick?” Nurse Sprouse cackled to the doctors around her.

The doctors didn’t crack any smiles.

Are the doctors even alive? We may need a crash cart in here.
“I wasn’t lovesick, Miss Sprouse. Not at the time. Love came a few days later.”

“You’re not making sense, Miss Woods,” Nurse Sprouse said. “As usual.”

“To
you,
” Trina said, looking at the doctors. “I don’t know the rest of you, so I can’t say you don’t understand. I do know, however, that Miss Sprouse does not know what love is. She doesn’t have a single clue.” Trina leaned forward in her seat. “You see, gentlemen, it takes
love
to do this job.”

“You obviously didn’t
love
your job enough to follow all the rules and regulations,” Nurse Sprouse said. “You obviously didn’t
love
this job enough to tell your supervisor the truth. You obviously didn’t
love
this job—”

“I already admitted I lied,” Trina interrupted. “I will accept any punishment this board gives me. But I will not take any more punishment from you today, Miss Sprouse. I get enough of that on a daily basis.”
And so do the women who sneaked off to wish me well this morning. I think I owe them a fight.

“I do not punish you, Miss Woods,” Nurse Sprouse said. “And I resent you saying that.”

“And I resent
you,
Miss Sprouse.” Trina smiled. “By the way, how many HIPAA laws did you break in ‘leaking’ the story to the press?”

Nurse Sprouse looked away. “I have no idea how the
Chronicle
got the story.”

Who’s lying now? Should I continue this line of questioning? No. Let’s get back to love so we can confuse ES some more.
“Gentlemen, I love this job. I love coming to work. I love helping patients. I loved a man enough to work double-shifts here to pay for his medical school. I still work two hours a night in the ER when I could be home resting my aching feet. I love working here at Saint Francis.”

“All that is immaterial to these proceedings,” Nurse Sprouse said. “Is the board ready to discuss—”

“I’m not through, Miss Sprouse,” Trina interrupted.

“I asked earlier if you had anything more to say, and you said no.”

I thought I didn’t. If I’m going to get in trouble, I have to get in trouble on my own terms.
“I had nothing more to say about what I
did
. I do have more to say about what I
do
.” She scanned the doctors’ expressionless faces. “Miss Sprouse has assigned me and many of my fellow dark-skinned nurses—Indian, Pakistani, Indonesian, Filipino, and of course, African and African American—the
worst
possible jobs at this hospital ever since she became nursing supervisor three years ago.”

“I most certainly have not!” Nurse Sprouse squawked. “There is absolutely no truth to what she is saying!”

Ooh, now she has some color in that light-skinned face of hers.
“While we ‘colored’ nurses empty bedpans, colostomy bags, do transport, and assist patients in going to the bathroom, Miss Sprouse’s legion of ‘white’ nurses walk around with clipboards and pens and take extended coffee breaks and sit in the lounge for hours at a time gossiping and do everything they can to avoid actually doing any work.”

“These are all lies, gentlemen, I assure you,” Nurse Sprouse said. “These are lies from a liar.”

“If I could, I’d bring all the nurses into this room and I’d say: ‘Raise your hand if you’ve ever emptied
one
bedpan.’” Trina raised her eyebrows. “You would see a
forest
of dark hands go into the air. Walk around this hospital sometime. You will
see
the darker nurses much more often that you will
see
the lighter nurses. You will see the darker nurses actually working. They will not be
looking
busy—they
are
busy. They won’t be rushing around the hallways to avoid work—they will be rushing around to go
to
work. If it weren’t for us, this hospital would fall apart.”