Page 18 of Tyriq & Teaira
“Tyriq, you sure?”
“Yeah. Warm me up some lasagna, pleeeaaasssee,” he begs like a kid, looking cute.
“Damn, alright. I got you.” I lightly peck his lips then place my hands on his cut chest. “Move please, so I can put my romper on.”
“Nah.” He reaches down and grabs my romper from the floor. “Go just like that so I can watch that ass.” When he gets off the sectional, he extends his hands to me, I accept, and he pulls me up. The moment I’m up, he pulls my naked body into his. Palming my ass, he says, “Damn!”
He releases me and I walk straight to my laundry room. From my pile of folded clothes on the small table, I grab a pair of panties and put them on. When I step out, he frowns.
“No coochie in my kitchen,” I tell him while shaking my head.
“Coochie? The fuck. You got some good ass pussy, not no damn coochie. And that shit was extra gushy. Tee, take them shits off,” he demands. I simply roll my eyes and take my covered coochie into my kitchen. After washing my hands, I grab the lasagna from the fridge, fix him some, and place the plate in the microwave. While it warms, he joins me in the kitchen, still fully naked. “Is dick allowed in here?”
“Only big, pretty ones,” I say and he laughs.
The lightness and playfulness I’m used to in his tone has thankfully returned. I hope it stays and he’s able to actually talk to his mom and talk his shit out with her.
Around two this morning, after much insistence, Tyriq left. The last thing I wanted to be was the reason he didn’t play and the Lions didn’t win the National Championship. After I let him out, I took my ass back upstairs, back into my comfortable bed, and slept. To my surprise though, I slept almost ten hours.
My eyes open around noon because my damn cell would not stop ringing. Annoyed as hell, I roll over and blindly fumble my hands around, feeling for my phone. When I don’t feel it, I grunt, open my eyes, then see the time on my wall clock, eleven forty-eight.
“The hell?” I utter as I ease up. When I do, I spot my phone on my dresser. Thankfully, it stops ringing so I place my hands on my back, elongate it, and stretch. “Mmm,” I moan as my stiff body starts to warm. I’m interrupted when my damn phone starts back ringing. While shaking my head, I raise my covers, turn to the side, and ease out of bed, and I do mean ease. I’m achy all over and stiff. I’m used to the aftermath of Tyriq on my body but this isn’t that. “Fuck, I better not be getting sick,” I groan as I amble to my phone. I snatch it up; it’s the hospital. “Hello,” I answer reluctantly.
“Hi, Teaira. This is Beatrice Ramo—”
“Hi, Miss Beatrice,” I say, cutting her off. We all know Beatrice Ramos, head nurse in charge of scheduling. When shecalls your day off, it’s for one thing and one thing only. “You need me to come in?”
“If you can. We are down three nurses.”
Because I don’t mind helping when needed, and because I definitely don’t mind the double pay for coming in on a scheduled day off, I ask, “What time and for how long?”
“Mid shift,” she says, which is eleven to eleven.
“I just woke up. I need an hour and a half.”
“I’ll take it. With that championship game, I can’t get anybody to come in and cover. So, thank you. It’s going to be busy; pack a lunch.”
“Okay,” I say, then end the call.
I walk straight into my bathroom and grab my Tylenol/Advil combo pills from my medicine stash in my towel closet. I pop three into my mouth and swallow them with water from my faucet. Then I start one of my magic baths and amble down the stairs to make my cappuccino as the tub fills. For this morning’s cup, I add an extra shot of Nescafé Espresso concentrate. How my body feels, I’m going to need it.
Cup in hand, I make it upstairs into my tub. While enjoying the soothing water, I sip my coffee, taking my time. Once I step foot into Highland Regional, time always disappears and I’m immediately on go-mode. This afternoon is no different. I make it to the hospital ten minutes after one. My things are in my locker and my lunch kit is in the employee fridge within five minutes, and ten minutes after that, I’m triaging what appears to be a mild case of strep throat.
My first three hours go by like a whirlwind, and although I feel like shit, I try to push through it. My body is less achy but my damn stomach is queasy and I have a slight headache. When the floor seems quiet, I sneak off to splash cold water on my facethen duck into an empty examination room. I ease down into the chair and just breathe. The door opening interrupts my much too temporary solitude.
“Oh! Girl, sorry. I didn’t know anyone was in here. I’m looking for small IV dressings,” Lawanda, one of the nurses I’m cool with, says as she walks in timidly.
“You good. Should be some in that second tray. I just needed a break. I think I’m building up to a migraine.”
“You better hope that’s all it is. Marlene, Kanetra, and Petey have pneumonia. Let’s pray it didn’t get you too.”
“Oh shit,” I sigh because we have had a few cases of pneumonia where the patients were symptom presenting. Some people call it walking pneumonia and that would knock me on my ass if I have it.
“Yeah. It’s no joke. Go home. I’ll cover.”
“Hell, I’m covering for someone. If I’m sick, I’m in the right place. I’ll see if Kevin’ll do a chest x-ray to check my lungs.”
“Stay here. I’ll grab him. You know he’ll do anything for you,” she says with a laugh. Kevin does have a little crush on me. He’s our newest x-ray tech. “I can draw your blood.”
