“Don’t you have a birthday coming up soon, too? Who are you spending that with?” my mom asked me as I bounced my dilemma off of her, sitting at my desk at work.
“First things first, Mom.” I could hear Pastor Paula White’s ministry in the background. Mom didn’t go to church in California like she did when she was in Florida, but she did know the Bible, and she did love her spiritual shows on Trinity Broadcasting.
“Baby, bring the girls on by here. I’ll pick one out for you.”
“Mom, it’s not worth going through all that trouble.”
“Actually I was just kidding, son. But, heck, it would be nice to just meet someone who’s in your life, just on general purpose. I can’t remember the last time that happened.”
“I brought Patricia, that fifty-year-old, by a few years ago for Thanksgiving dinner. You don’t remember her?”
“You didn’t bring her by. You invited her and she drove herself over here and ate, and then you announced that you had to leave, so she left first.”
“Well, still, she’s someone I was dating. And I remember implicitly, I had to leave because I got an emergency call at the hospital.”
“Okay, if you say so. Whatever happened to her anyway? Was it that she was almost old enough to be your mom?” Mom joked. I could hear her smile.
“Mom.” I sat up and began scrolling through some appointments in my phone book.
“Son, I know you have nothing against older women, but she looked older than me.”
I cleared my throat. “Anyway, Mom, she caught a case of the wife-wannabes. She kept suggesting we buy rings and then kept leaving things over my house to make excuses to come back.”
“Oh, you actually brought her to your house? That was serious then.”
“Contrary to what you think, that’s not unusual. But, she just wanted to move too fast, and when I told her my feeling about wanting to slow things down, she cursed me out, called me a commitment-phobic jerk and slammed down the phone. And then she called to say she was sorry. I don’t go backwards. Not often, anyway. You know that, Mom.”
“Yes, I do. But, have you ever thought about her question?”
“Mom.”
“Really, Makkai. I’ve asked myself that question, too. Don’t you think I want grandbabies one day, boy?”
“You’ll have grandkids, Mom. I’m only thirty-seven. I’ve got time.” I leaned back again, rocking in my high-back desk chair.
“Yes, but you’ll be forty before you know it.”
“Excuse me but I’ve been a little busy in case you haven’t noticed.”
“Oh, I see what’s going to happen. You’ll end up with some sweet young thang half your age, I just know it.”
“Not necessarily.”
“I don’t know too many forty-year-old women who want to push a baby out of their wombs that late in life. That is, if their eggs have any juice left anyway.”
“Mom, stop. Besides, I might marry someone who already has kids.”
“True. But, you’ve got to have a son of your own. I picture you being a father to a cute little boy you can play baseball with and do guy things with. And as brilliant as you are, those genes just can’t go to waste. Surely you got your brain from my side of the family.” She laughed out loud for a few seconds. “Anyway, you’d make a great dad.”
I followed her laugh with a chuckle. “Yes, I got my smarts from you. But, you know it’s not like I need to carry on the Worthy name. Lord knows there are enough Worthy males on this planet.”
“I won’t argue with you on that one. All I’m saying is, you’ve got that big old house in Hollywood Hills, you make all that money, you have two fancy cars, you’ve achieved all that success, and there’s no one to share it with. Don’t end up finding out that it’s a lonely way to live. You need love in your heart too. That’s what you need, Makkai.”
I stood up and took off my suit jacket. “I’ve got enough love for you to last my entire lifetime and yours, Mom.”
“Well, that’s sweet. I’m talking about a woman of your own.”
“Anyway, I’ll pick you up this weekend so you can get a dress to wear. Is Mr. Cotton going?”
She snapped her tongue like she was from the hood. “Why do you call him Mr. Cotton? His name is Al.”
“Is he coming?”
“He’ll be in Charlotte that weekend, seeing about a car he wants to buy.”
“Good.”
“Makkai, stop. I’d say ‘Mr. Cotton’ has been in your life long enough for you two to bond, even a little.”
“Mom, don’t get me started. That man is living in that house I bought you without even showing enough motivation to repair a leaky faucet. And the next time he doesn’t go with you to get the results of a biopsy, I’m going to corner him and give him a piece of my mind. He’s hardly a father figure to me.”
“I’m not with him so he can be a father for you. I’m with him for me, to be my mate and my companion. And besides, I told him he didn’t have to go with me to that appointment. I wanted to be alone”
“That’s not something a wife should be able to keep you from going to, whether she wants to be alone or not.”
“What would you know about what a wife needs?”
“Oh, low blow, Mom. But, I’m just saying.”
“I hear you, Makkai. I was just kidding. But, you know that the one thing that comforts me is just knowing you’re there for me.”
“Always, Mom.” I turned off the light to my office.
“I love you.”
“I love you, too, Mom. I’ll check on you later.”
“And I’ll be glad to meet whoever you end up choosing. I’ll see you this weekend. I should be back from church at around eleven.”
My girl.
Chapter 12
Early in the morning, I headed down the hall to scrub for an eight-o’clock open-heart surgery on a middle-aged female with a ruptured aorta.
I walked into the overly bright operating room once I got all gloved and masked for surgery. The patient’s body was cooled, and the perfusion technologist placed her on a cardiopulmonary bypass machine, which does the same job the heart would do, but allows us to operate on a heart that is still, as opposed to one that is beating and moving. Modern technology gives us more time to do what we need to do. But, the hours do fly by.
As I made the lengthy and deep incision, I was suddenly amazed at how routine surgery had become. As much as I remained focused and deliberate, I was still able to perform yet think. Think about my life, and my family, and my future. Here I was, using my talent and education to repair damage to an organ. A vital, major organ that served as the most important, central focal point in the body, aside from the brain, yet and still, each needed the other in life-sustaining ways in order to function. Kind of like a man and a woman, I suppose. This patient had high blood pressure, and the years of strain on the heart muscle had enlarged her heart to double the size with so much pressure that the aorta had swollen, and the damage needed to be manually repaired. Stress in life can do that to anyone. Life is challenging and beautiful all at the same time.
Before I knew it, I was suturing her up, and again sustaining her system by allowing her heart to take it from there. And it did. The technician gave me the thumbs-up look. It was an awesome responsibility, yet from where I sat in my life, it was a once-fulfilling job that just wasn’t quite enough anymore. I loved it. But, more and more lately, I was feeling as though I was the one who really needed heart surgery, perhaps to open up my heart.
After a long day of two successful major operations, I was glad to finally be able to shut it down and head home from a nearly twelve-hour, marathon shift. I wanted to make a decision about who to invite to this award dinner, but the more I thought about it, the more I was leaning toward going unescorted. It just seemed a whole lot easier.
Since Salina freaks out, even though we still kick it, she’s not even a consideration. I dare not call Patricia back after the way we ended our sh
ort run. She’s the one who bought me that nameplate, having branded me Dr. Feelgood in the first place. It’s a shame I wasn’t ready for her because whether she was fifty or not, we really were compatible.
Mary Jane and I are just friends, but being that she’s a coworker, probably still mad at me, and kind of shy anyway, I’d better not. Monday is professional and attractive and sophisticated, but I’m not sure I’m ready to bring Miss Freak of the Week around this crowd. Plus, they know she was dating a patient of mine anyway. Besides, she comes off a little strong sometimes. And she just doesn’t come off as the girl-on-the-arm type.
But, for now, I’m thinking Georgia might work. Even though she could have starred in L.L. Cool J’s video for “Around the Way Girl,” she does have some class, I think. Every time I hear the lyrics “I wanna eat you like a cookie when I see you walk,” her sexy strut comes to mind. Okay, but the point is, she’s pretty, she’s intelligent, she’s personable, and I’ve known her long enough to where I don’t believe she’d think it means something.
“So, what do you think?” I asked from my mobile.
“I’d love to. I’d be honored actually. Hold on a second, please.” Georgia tried to muffle the sound. “Girls, get in that room and close the door until I tell you to come out. Can’t you see Mommy is on the phone? What did I tell you about that? Go in the room, now. I’m so sorry, Makkai. Yes, I’d love to go with you.” She shifted from sweet, to wicked, to sweet again in no time flat.
“Okay, so do you have anything to wear?”
“I’m sure I have something in that closet.” She giggled, sounding kind of unsure.
“How about if I drop off some money in a little while and you can go shopping for something formal? I’m wearing a black tux with a white shirt and tie, so I’d say all white or all black would be good. Keep it sophisticated.”
“Okay.”
“Fine then, I guess I’ll see you in a little while. I’ve got a quick stop to make to catch the tail end of a USC alumni get-together, but I’ll be by after that. Maybe in a couple of hours, maybe less.”
“I’ll be up. See you then. And, Makkai, congratulations.”
My boys sat at the long, double-sided, catch-action bar at Magic Johnson’s Fridays in Ladera. It was standing room only, as usual. To find a seat in this place is like winning the California lottery. I used to take time to make this my regular hangout, but it had been months since the last time I stopped by. Tonight gave me a reason to definitely stop on by, if only for a minute.
Turning from the bar to eye me as I walked up, Dr. Hightower, the chiropractor, asked, wearing his three-quarter-length camel suit, “So, you’re getting the NAACP award, huh, Doctor? What up, man?”
“Yeah.” I gave handshakes as I walked in and stood behind him and another doctor.
“Oh, you’re big-time now, huh?” asked Dr. Win-ton Humphrey, a dentist who owned his own practice in the Crenshaw area.
“Not even. What’s happening?”
“It’s all good. Just don’t forget about us down here while you’re flying high.”
“Anyway, how’d the alumni banquet go?” I asked.
Dr. Hightower half replied, rubbing his goatee, eyeing a stallion-looking lady who walked by. “It was cool. The new president spoke.” He looked our way. “Boy was as bland as a medical book.”
“I’ll bet.”
Dr. Humphrey continued. “He even tried to tell an x-rated joke about how the tongue is the strongest muscle in the body. It was just the way he said it, being that the brother looked so square that no one even went there with him.”
Having heard Dr. Humphrey’s every word, Carlos’s female friend asked as she and Carlos walked up, “Is that true, Doctor? About the tongue I mean?”
Dr. Humphrey replied, “Not that I know. But, it can be a powerful tool. Though, it’s not the tool, if you know what I’m saying.” He gave her the eye.
“Hey, bros, what’s up?” said Carlos, high-fiving and smiling big. “Man, I was told that some lions mate over fifty times a day.”
Carlos’s friend said while grinning wide, “I wanna be a lion in my next life.”
“Hell, a pig’s orgasm lasts thirty minutes,” Carlos added.
Carlos’ female friend corrected herself. “Cancel that, I wanna be a pig.” She laughed.
“I’m with you,” Dr Hightower said, inspecting her from her forehead to her ankles. His eyes licked her up and down.
Carlos looked at his friend. “What are you laughing at? You women don’t deserve thirty minutes. A female praying mantis can’t make love to the male until after she rips his head off.”
Everyone laughed together.
Dr. Humphrey responded, “Sounds the closest to a woman in my opinion. That’s a sister’s problem today, always tearing the black man down.”
“No comment,” I said. With nowhere to sit, and knowing Georgia was waiting on me, I just had to excuse myself. “On that note, I’ve gotta get going.”
“Yeah, me, too,” Carlos replied, looking at his watch.
“You two just got here,” said Dr. Humphrey.
“Yeah, but we’ve got places to go,” said Carlos. Both of us waved, as we headed toward the door. He left his female friend sandwiched in between the doctors.
“Where are you headed?” he asked.
“To a friend’s house.”
“Don’t hurt her, man.”
I looked back at him as we exited the front door together. “Never. Hey, I thought you came with that girl.”
“Yo, what up, Dr. Worthy?” a gentleman asked whom I’d never seen before in my life.
“Hey now. Nothing much.”
Carlos told me, “No. She’s just someone who runs the switchboard at the office. Actually, she just pulled me aside and asked me about your ass.”
“Oh, she’s cute, believe me, but I’ve got my hands full.”
“Like I said, don’t hurt ‘em.” He pulled off in his truck, me in my Benzo. That’s my boy. He’ll surely hit that eventually. That’s just the kinda brotha Carlos is.
Chapter 13
Georgia
“This means something,” I told my mom the next morning from my cell phone. Makkai left at five. I had a quick writing gig that I was headed to at the radio station, just from ten to two o’clock. Makkai didn’t get any sleep, and I’ve only had a couple myself. I’ll be good for nothing today.
Mom’s tone was drab. “What are you talking about, it means something? That man has a whole lot of responsibilities and hasn’t come out and said anything of the sort. You told me the way it is with Makkai is just fine with you anyway.”
“It is, but for him to ask me to his award show after all these years, I think he’s coming around.”
“Coming around to what?”
“To the idea of taking this to the next level.”
“Georgia, he didn’t ask you to marry him. It’s just a date.”
“Mom, I’m going to get to meet his mother and his coworkers during a very special occasion in his life. He must see a future with me. And I know I’m the only one he’s seeing.”
“Oh, I say unless you’ve talked about monogamy, don’t ever assume that. Besides, don’t get your head all up in the clouds. Come on back down to reality. Now, where are you going to buy that dress from?”
“Probably Nordstrom. Can you watch the kids tonight while I shop?”
“No problem.”
“And how about them spending the night on the twenty-seventh, the night of the event? I think it’s at like seven o’clock.”
“Sure, they can.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“No problem. By the way, your dad’s coming over tomorrow night.” Suddenly, she sounded upbeat.
Suddenly, drab owned me. “Mom, not again. What’s goin’ on with you two?”
“We’re just talking.”
“After twenty years of him leaving you and hooking up with some other woman, you’re just talking to him?”
�
�Georgia, honey, he left because I stayed out all night, remember?”
“Yeah, but he could have forgiven you and kept his family together. If you ask me, he was looking for an excuse.”
“Georgia, not all men are dogs, you know.”
“If you say so.” I took a quick peek into the rearview and my frown lines were talking louder than I was.
Mom said, “I’ll talk to you later. Those little girls are all ears right about now, I’m sure. They don’t miss a beat. Especially since you’re talking about their grandfather.”
“I already dropped them off, Mom.”
“Good. See you tonight, dear.”
“Bye.”
The main entrance to the W Hotel in Westwood was absolutely fabulous, with huge, life-sized silver trophies and black balloons aligned all up and down the canopy-covered driveway. We stepped out of the black stretch limousine where there was actually a red carpet set up.
“You look so pretty,” I told Makkai’s sweet, friendly mother, who had on a black knee-length dress with a black fishnet shawl and low-heel velvet pumps.
She eyeballed me from head to toe, putting her hand on my shoulder. “Child, you look like you could be in one of those Ebony Fashion Fair shows. She’s beautiful, Makkai.” She put her arm through his.
“Thanks, Mom. You both look beautiful. I see you wore red,” he whispered to me from the corner of his mouth with a glimmer of a forced smile.
“Yes, red goes with everything.”
Flashbulbs went off, shining upon Makkai like he was the president or something. But, the president had nothing on him this night.
His suit was Armani black, his satin tie was pearl white, his shoes were shiny new patent leather Hugo Boss, and he looked like a million bucks. He stood in between us as we walked inside and were escorted to our table.
“Hello, Dr. Worthy,” said a distinguished-looking man, the head of the NAACP. “We’re honored to have you here.”
Dr. Feelgood Page 6
