I reach across the table and take her hand in mine. Her hands, while smaller than mine and more delicate, still radiate strength and the slight roughness of hard work. Her lips tip up as she stares at our joined hands.
“You said, ‘one of’ your aunts, how many do you have?”
“My lunch break isn’t that long!” She starts laughing again, drawing the attention of a few other nurses and doctors on their own breaks. I just smile at her reaction and wait for an explanation. As much as I want to get back to Elead, I also want to soak up as much as I can of her warmth.
“Sorry, I have about 25 aunts and uncles, and about 30 cousins, give or take.” I am dumbstruck. How fucking big is her family? Her poor grandmother! “I should maybe explain that they are not all blood, it’s kind of a convoluted tale that maybe I will explain some time…over dinner?” Her cheeks turn a lovely deep rose, she dips her head shyly. It is a lovely juxtaposition to her asking me out. I will my cock to stand down, the hospital cafeteria was certainly not the place to pop wood.
I squeeze her hand, flashing her an impish grin. “I would like to spend some time with Elead, and I have some things to take care of in order to bring him home. When is your next day off?” I ask, thinking of everything that needs to be done. Maybe she can help with some of it while we get to know each other.
“I am off Thursday.” The little minx turns her hand in mine and intwines our fingers.
“Thursday it is. That will give me a chance to make a list of everything I need to do and bond with Elead a bit more. The other nurse told me that skin to skin contact was best for him right now.”
“God Bless you, Sharon.” She murmurs, closing her eyes in what looks like bliss.
“What was that?” Though, I think I have a good idea now, she must have seen me this morning with him on my chest. Many of the hospital staff seemed to find some reason or another to come into his pod to “check” on something. I laugh to myself, glad she appreciated the view.
She shakes her head emphatically, “Nothing.” Clearing her throat, she continues, “I better get back. But I got to get my Elead fix, so I will see you later if you are still around tonight.” Priss stands, grabbing her tray and moving towards the garbage can.
“B’shert!” I yell, then race after her, grabbing the tray and placing it on the nearest table. “Sweetheart, you’re bleeding!”
“What?” She asks alarmed, looking down the front of her body, checking for injuries.
“It’s…” I make a motion toward her butt.
Priscilla turns the most alarming shade of red I have ever seen, fists her hands and growls. Then she bends a bit at the waist, yelling at her crotch, “Fuck you, ovaries! This isn’t fighting fair!” Then she storms out of the lunchroom leaving the rest of us staring after her, bewildered.
I’m sure I understand now that her discomfort is due to her menses. And apparently, she is viewing it as a declaration of war from her womanly innards.
I look heavenward, my eyes closed, my hand clutching my chest as if to keep my heart inside. Thanks, Manasseh, she’s incredible and weird and I can’t wait to learn everything about her.
Priscilla 5.
“He saw my uterine lining…on the back of my scrub pants…and we haven’t even known each other a day. Uterine lining has to be like, at least a 20,000-day minimum for couples.”
“I feel like this is a conversation you should be having with your Aunt Merith, or at least your mom.”
“Why can’t I talk to you about it, Uncle Silas? I always talk to you about boys.”
“Uh, I have a prostate and am only interested in other prostates. Ouch! Ok, only one other prostate”
“Don’t talk about Uncle Adam’s man organs!” I screech, then remember I am in the locker room and lower my voice. “It’s gross.”
“You were just talking about the St. Valentine’s Day massacre in your pants!”
“Exactly, and he saw it! He SAW it! What the hell am I supposed to do?” I lament, laying down on the bench, waiting for God to take pity on me and begin the rapture.
“Own it!” Comes Uncle Adams sage advice in the background.
“He’s right, Miss Priss, just own it. If he can’t handle a little bloody putang, then he isn’t man enough for you.”
“I hate girls.” Again, Uncle Adam. He is so fucking helpful.
“Do you think those were the original lyrics for Sheryl Crow’s ‘Strong Enough’?”
“Probably not, menstruation wasn’t talked about openly in the 90’s. And, honestly, I’d prefer it wasn’t talked about now.”
I ignore that little jab and think about what they said. “I’ve never really shied away from anything before.”
“Yes, we are all familiar with your bathroom habits, Dookie McFartsalot.”
“I hate that nickname.” I growl into the phone.
“Well, then stop describing your bowel movements to us in group text.”
“Some of them are pretty spectacular. It’s amazing that something that large could come out of—”
“Honestly, I feel bad for the guy, he doesn’t know what he’s getting himself into.” Uncle Silas cuts me off, causing me to chuckle. He’s so easy to rile up. “Goodbye, Dookie!”
I place my phone back in my pocket and decide to own it. I’m a woman, I bleed every month and don’t die. My insides cramp and I experience diarrhea and bloating, hear me roar! He can take me as I am or enjoy the view as I walk away…in clean scrub pants with an extra thick pad.
I stand in the doorway of Elead’s pod. My breath stolen from my lungs at the sight before me. Garrett, shirtless, his tiny baby boy nestled comfortably between his defined pectoral muscles. Frick, I
