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I dipped into my car to grab a card and hand it to the young man.
“Ah. Shit. A brain guy.”
His eyes bulged from his skull as he read the card.
“Damn, Chief?”
“Anything is possible, Black man,” I assured him, closing the distance between my date and I.
With my hand on the small of Nature’s back, we pushed forward. Before we got too far away, she turned back, hesitating as she gathered her thoughts.
“It will get hard. So hard you’ll want to give up. It’ll get lonely. So lonely you’ll question what you’re really doing it for or who you’re really doing it for. But whatever you do, don’t give up. I studied medicine, too, and as a woman who delivers multiple babies a week, saving so many Black women’s lives, the hardships I faced in school seems so… small. I’d do it again a hundred times.”
“You, too? A doctor?”
“I’m whatever my patients need me to be. A therapist. A friend. A physician. A shoulder to cry on. A surgeon. Anything,” she admitted.
“Mom’s not going to believe my luck today. Just the motivation I needed. I’m just… wow.”
“Have a good night…”
Nature paused, remembering she hadn’t gotten his name.
“Jeremiah.”
“Goodnight, Jeremiah.”
“Goodnight, ma’am… sir.”
* * *
Dimness sheeted the restaurant,offering the moody, mellow vibe that I preferred over the live, brightly lit atmosphere of many establishments. Across the table, in the seclusion of our private dining suit, sat Nature with her eyes nervously bouncing around the room. The Van Cleef bracelets slid up and down her arm as she pushed and pulled on them over and over.
Red wine was in front of her. Brown liquor covered the bottom of the glass that I swirled around before taking a second sip, clearing it completely. As the glass cleared my line of vision, Nature’s eyes had found me and remained fixated on me as she lifted her glass to sip from.
“How are you, Nature?”
Resting my back against the seat with expanded limbs that acquired space beyond the necessary, I cracked my knuckles with my thumb, starting with my index finger. Patience failed me as I waited for her voice to serenade the moment. It wasn’t until she was ready that her lips parted. And when they did, I was all ears.
“I’d say that I’m perfectly fine.” Slowly, she sighed. “But that would be a lie. I’ve been better, but it’s not all bad.”
“How can I fix it?”
“Fix it?”
“Your issue.”
“You don’t even know what it is, Milo.”
“It doesn’t matter. How can I fix it?”
“You can’t,” she scoffed. “Unless you have some sperm to donate in the next forty-eight hours.”
To lighten the load of the words she’d just spoken, she laughed. Her right hand went up toward her chest as she began to rub. Nature was a creature of habit. I remembered the gesture. It was a sign of discomfort and shattering nerves.
With hiked brows, I responded, “Your master plan?”
“My master plan.”
