by Dyanne Davis
For a moment they were silent as Heaven glared at him. Hamid could have let it stand there, knowing she needed the barrier of their differences to protect her. He needed it also.
“How long has it been since you ate pork?”
A tiny hitch of her lips, followed by a smile, then a full-fledged grin. “I eat it still,” she laughed, “but I don’t have it as often. How can I? I keep seeing your face.”
“Then I’ve done my job,” Hamid joked, the ease of it relaxing the tension between them. “How did you like this food?”
“It was very good.”
“Are you ready?” His eyes snagged hers again and when she nodded, he stood. “I’ll have to cook for you one day,” he said and moved aside for her to pass. He inhaled her fresh lemon scent and wondered if she tasted like lemon. He smiled as he followed behind her. He wasn’t doing a very good job of putting his desire for her out of his mind. But she had definitely taken away the pain of losing a patient. “Thanks, Heaven,” he said, as they walked out the door.
“Thanks for what?” She turned to him.
“Oh, I needed to forget a few things and you helped me.”
“So did I,” Heaven admitted, “so I guess I’ll thank you also.”
Neither said what things they’d needed help forgetting, but when Hamid’s hand moved to the side Heaven’s hand was there. And when his fingers closed over hers, her thumb brushed his hand. They were both a contradiction.
“I lost a patient today,” Hamid said softly. “I needed to unwind.”
“I know the feeling,” Heaven answered. “The registry called me this morning before I was due to come in to tell me my patient had died. They asked if I wanted to go back on call.” She shrugged her shoulder. “I also needed a break.”
“Things have changed, haven’t they?”
“They have?” Heaven answered.
“You like me.”
Heaven grinned, glad Hamid was driving and not likely to dazzle her with his smile. He pretty much kept his eyes on the road when he drove. “Yes, Hamid, I like you.”
“But you still wouldn’t date me?”
“Too dangerous, Hamid. Beside, are you actually asking me for a date?”
“No, Heaven, I agree it’s much too dangerous. You would break my heart,” he teased.
“Or you would break mine.”
“So it’s agreed we will remain friends only?”
“Agreed.” Heaven answered even though her stomach felt as though a thousand rocks were pelting it. She swallowed, no longer sure if the mistake was in not dating Hamid, or trying to keep herself from being hurt.
* * *
Two weeks later Heaven again took Hamid to the blues club, this time issuing the invitation, and this time riding in the same vehicle. She enjoyed his company.
Swinging into the parking lot, Heaven turned toward Hamid. “I invited you tonight, so it’s my treat.” She waited for him to protest and saw his slight frown before he smiled.
“Agreed,” Hamid answered. “Are you picking up the tab for the entire evening?”
“Yes.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
“So whatever I order, you’re paying?”
Heaven mentally counted the funds in her wallet before remembering she had her American Express. “Go ahead, Hamid, I’m making extra money now. I guess I can afford to spend a little.”
She had the twenty ready to hand over for the admission to the club. She glanced in Hamid’s direction to see if he was making a move toward his wallet. He didn’t, he merely smiled and waited.
“Your friends are waiting,” he whispered in her ear.
Heaven spun around in the direction Hamid was pointing. She’d as much expected their reaction. They were watching them, their eyes widening as they approached.
“Good evening, ladies,” Hamid said as he sat next to Latanya. “Tonight is my treat. Whatever you ladies desire, please put it on my tab.” He turned and smiled at Heaven.
“That’s very generous of you, Hamid, but I’m sure they don’t want to take advantage of you.” Heaven attempted to give her friends meaningful looks but they were so excited that Hamid was picking up their bar tab that they ignored her.
Heaven watched as the women flirted with Hamid the same as they had the first time they met him, only this time maybe a little more. When Latanya took him onto the dance floor, Heaven turned away to answer the questions her friends were dying to ask.
“Is this a date?”
“Call it a field trip,” Heaven replied.
“Yeah, right.”
“I’m not kidding. Hamid and I have been all over the city and many of the suburbs. Oh, and before I forget, I’m picking up Hamid’s tab tonight so that mess he was talking about, forget it. I’ll buy you all one drink and that’s it.”
“Are you still teaching him a lesson?” Ongela asked.
“Or is he teaching you one?” Peaches chimed in.
“Let’s say both, and we called a sort of truce. We haven’t fought in a few days.”
“What do you call the little stunt he pulled trying to stick you with our tab?”
Heaven smiled. “That’s Hamid’s idea of being cute, calling my bluff.”
“You’re falling for the guy,” Ongela laughed.
“Maybe a little bit, but not enough to act on it.”
“Has he asked you out?”
Heaven glanced toward the dance floor. “We’re friends.”
“If you don’t want to date him do you mind if I ask him out?”
“What about the brothers? We were going to nurture them, remember? We had a pact.” Heaven didn’t dare look at Ongela. She felt as if her eyes were burning out of their sockets and if she dared to so much as gaze at her friend, Ongela would be burned to a cinder.
“Heaven, I’m tired of dating Bob.”
Heaven’s mouth flew open. She couldn’t believe her friend’s implication. She wanted to sleep with Hamid. The idea of it didn’t shock Heaven as much as make her angry. Yes, she minded Ongela dating him. “No, go ahead and ask,” Heaven answered.
* * *
The drive home was quiet. Heaven felt Hamid’s eyes on her but she refused to say anything unless he did.
“Your friends are nice.”
“I know,” Heaven answered.
“They have no problems with dating me.”
Heaven wasn’t going to take the bait. Hamid was an adult, so were her friends. They could all date whomever they wanted.
“Would it bother you if I dated Ongela?”
“Why should it?” The words were said from between clenched teeth.
“Because you have feelings for me and I have feelings for you.” Hamid stopped for a moment, blew out a breath, and started again. “But I respect your rules. I don’t have any wish to be hurt by you, Heaven. I wasn’t joking before. Still, I value your friendship and I don’t want anything to get in the way of that. I am truly learning more about American culture from working with you. I think you’re learning also.”
“I’m not willing to pay you though,” Heaven said softly.
“I didn’t ask you to.”
Heaven rolled her tongue, blew air through it as though it were a pipe, then looked out the window and bit her tongue. She wanted to ask him if he were considering dating Ongela, but his eyes were on her. She didn’t have to look at him to know that. She could feel his stare.
“Are you angry that I mentioned dating your friend?”
“Of course not.”
“Heaven?”
Chills rushed over her skin, scratching at her like rusty needles, tearing away the scabs, making her bleed afresh. He’d never called her name in that particular way. She wished he would say something, anything that would get them back to fighting.
“Heaven, why are American women such whores?”
Okay, that did it. Heaven gripped the steering wheel, wondering if Hamid too was searching for a way to bring the balance back into the
ir relationship. She turned to glare at him. “Excuse me, but since I know you sometimes mean something different, I’m going to ask you before I overreact. What does the word whore mean to you?”
“A woman who easily sleeps with a man she’s not married to.”
So we both have the same basic understanding of the word. “Tell me something, Hamid, why would a man ask a woman who’s not his wife to sleep with him? And the man who did it, wouldn’t he be a male whore?”
“It is the worst of insults in Pakistan to call a man a whore.”
“It’s also an insult in this country to call a woman a whore.”
“I’m being truthful in my response. I was only asking you a question,” Hamid replied.
“And I’m being truthful in my answer.” Heaven turned to look at him, grateful that he’d uttered those words. This was the main reason she would never become involved with Hamid. He was an arrogant…, She saw him smile at her,…very nice guy, she thought but didn’t return his smile. Now they could return to what worked for them. They could fight. They could be friends. But they could not, should not, be lovers.
Chapter Six
Hamid placed the tourniquet around the patient’s arm, palpated for a vein, found a good one, and uncapped the needle. When the blood filled the vial, he smiled. He liked disproving people’s assumptions. Nurses thought they were much better than doctors were when it came to drawing blood or giving injections.
He was good. He knew that, and pretending otherwise would be nothing but a lie.
Hamid removed the filled vial, putting in another and another until he was done. Then he removed the tourniquet, placed a folded sterile cloth over the area, and told the patient to hold it firmly in place.
“I thought you were supposed to bend the arm upwards.”
“I find that patients bruise a lot less if they follow the advice I just gave.”
“I thought it was the other way around,” the patient insisted.
Hamid smiled at the man. “It is your choice, but if you don’t want any bruising, just keep your arm outstretched.” Hamid took the filled vials, filled out the forms, and put them in the laboratory refrigerator. He removed the gauze from the patient’s arm. “There, you don’t need a bandage.”
“But I want one, and it’s your job to give me one. A good nurse would.”
“But I’m not a nurse,” Hamid answered jokingly.
“That’s what I mean.”
Hamid looked at the man’s hairy arm. “Are you sure?” When the patient didn’t answer, Hamid applied the bandage. Americans, he thought. They were a bit strange. But he knew a good nurse. At least he wanted to believe Heaven was a good nurse. So far, he didn’t have proof of that. She was excellent at fighting with him and repairing a car, but he didn’t know for sure if compassion was her strong suit. He would ask her and find out.
Hamid watched the patient leave before he stripped off his gloves, washed his hands, and waited for the next one, allowing his mind time to wander.
For over a month Heaven had never been far from his thoughts. They rarely got to spend time together, because both of their schedules were so erratic. She worked as crazy hours as he did. When he wasn’t in class he was working. He barely got to see anyone, but this Sunday he’d offered Heaven triple what he paid her plus her salary from the registry for the day to take the day off and escort him to the museum on the south side of Chicago.
Hamid smiled as the next patient entered the room and sat down. Thinking of Heaven was as always a pleasant diversion. It would be what would get him through the rigorous hours of the next four days.
* * *
Heaven yawned and stretched. This case was easy, so easy that Heaven had a hard time staying awake. She hated working the night shift, but with the shift deferential the registry paid, it more than made up for her lack of sleep. She’d been pulling double shifts for the last five days, but she had the next two off and couldn’t wait.
Well, she had Saturday to sleep. Sunday she was working in a way. She was taking Hamid to the DuSable Museum. This would be the first time she’d seen him since his date with Ongela. He’d better hope that she was able to keep her away hands from any sharp objects when they were at the museum.
Heaven smiled and tipped out of the room as her relief came on duty. What she wouldn’t give to feel as fresh and awake as the nurse standing before her did. She walked away, knowing that sleeping wouldn’t make her feel rested. Hamid invaded her dreams as well.
An hour after Heaven was home, her head hit the pillow and, as she’d known, her dreams were of Hamid. Him with his hair down, her with her fingers playing in the curls. That picture faded and Heaven was wearing a sari and waiting on Hamid, hand and foot. She woke in a sweat. “No way,” she said, as she punched her pillow. “No damn way.”
* * *
Seven times Heaven reached for the phone to cancel the meeting with Hamid, and seven times she put it back. Thinking of their outing as a meeting instead of a date was making it easier, but the dream lingered with her still. Hamid was having an effect on her, one she didn’t like. She would have to find a way to put him back where he belonged.
When the bell rang, she rushed to answer it, eager to get the day over and done with.
“I’m ready.” She rushed down the stairs, bumping Hamid as he attempted to come in.
“What’s wrong, Heaven? Why are you behaving as if you don’t want me to come into your home?”
“I don’t see any reason for us to linger when everything is at the museum.”
“I thought maybe we could talk for a few moments. It’s been almost three weeks since we’ve seen each other.”
“We can talk in the car.”
Heaven continued down the stairs, but stopped when she didn’t hear Hamid’s footsteps. She turned back. Mistake. She’d not noticed before but his hair, which he usually kept in a band, was down. He was staring at her, and she could see confusion in his eyes, followed by amusement, and by desire.
Heaven blinked. “How did your date with Ongela go?” she asked, wishing she had a twelve-inch blade with which to cut out her tongue.
“It went well. Thanks for asking.”
“Are you seeing her again?”
“Perhaps,” Hamid answered, smiling slowly, “unless you tell me that you don’t want me to see her.”
Heaven shrugged her shoulder. “You’re an adult, Hamid. You do what you want, and by the way, you’re not behaving like a Muslim man. You don’t need my permission on whom to date.”
“Do you have a lot of experience with Muslim men, Heaven?”
She stared up the stairs at him. His height was made even more impressive. She wanted to scream, she wanted to…Heaven stood three steps below Hamid and moaned inwardly as he quickly swiped his lips with his tongue. She wondered if he was even aware of how sexy he looked when he did that. Probably not.
“Heaven, why aren’t you answering the question?”
Her senses were on sensory overload. She took in a deep breath. “You smell good,” she said, looking up at him. She shook her head and walked down another step.
“That surprises you, Heaven? What is a Muslim man supposed to smell like? Spices? A disgusting body odor? I bathe, Heaven. I’m fastidious with my body, probably more so than you.”
She glanced up the stairs again but continued walking down. Usually she was the one with a chip on her shoulder. “What’s your problem, Hamid?”
“I want an answer to my question.”
The question? For the life of her, she couldn’t remember what the question was. She searched her mind, blinked, and still couldn’t remember. All she could think of was her dream, and half of it was real. Only she wasn’t in a sari and she wasn’t catering to Hamid and didn’t intend to.
“Are you a virgin, Heaven?”
If he was trying to stop her in her tracks, he did. “Are you?” Heaven replied.
“I’m a man, I don’t have to be.”
Heaven couldn’t
believe her ears. For a moment, she wondered why they were having this particular argument. But it didn’t matter; it would have been brought up at some point. The questions would be the same and so would the answer. She glared at him as though he’d lost his mind. “Guess what, Hamid, neither do I. I’m a woman.”
Outside Heaven pushed the remote button of her truck and went to the driver’s side. She paused when Hamid moved toward his own car parked behind her. “We’re taking my truck,” she said.
“I want to take my car.”
“Then suppose you take your car and I’ll take my truck.” Heaven got in her truck, slammed the door, and put her key in the ignition. This was stupid. But now she didn’t want to sit next to Hamid, either in her truck or his car. Right now, they were a continent apart.
* * *
Hamid was livid. He sat in his car, uncertain if he would follow Heaven’s truck or not. He didn’t know what had made him snap at her the way he had, but suddenly he’d wanted to see some sign from her that she’d missed him. He’d wanted to see a light in her eyes that told him what her words did not.
But it was Heaven, after all. Of course, her eyes would not light up at the sight of him. A small ping went through him. That was a part of his dream, what he was searching for, what he’d heard about from his friends and what he’d witnessed with his own eyes. Hamid wanted it for himself. For a moment when Heaven asked about his date, he’d thought it was because she was jealous. But then she’d backed away from the subject with her inane remark about Muslim men. He’d missed her. He hadn’t seen her in weeks. All he’d wanted was a few moments of her time to talk with her, to stare longingly at her and to breathe in her lemony essence. The way Heaven behaved it appeared she’d not missed him at all.
She had not lied to him from the beginning about her feelings for him. She’d said it straight out, that she would never date him because he wasn’t black, and she didn’t want the drama. And he had admitted to himself that there could never be anything serious between them. He was getting too old for chasing women. He had to think of his future, his family. He had to have his mind set on a proper Muslim woman who would give him sons and raise them in the faith. Heaven would never be able to give him that.