Wednesday Nights With Jamie

by Daisy Dexter Dobbs

  “Oh boy.” She sighed. “Listen, despite what you might think, Jamie, I usually don’t do such a convincing impression of a card-carrying idiot, honest. It’s just the stress of my sister going into labor and all.” Lyla did her best to offer a gracious smile. “What I meant to say was, no thank you, Jamie. It’s really not necessary. My mother will be—”

  “Dawn Marie Hogan.”

  At the sound of her sister’s name being growled out, Lyla snapped to attention. Following the admitting clerk’s direction, Lyla took a seat at the blue-gray faux granite counter. Clacking away at her keyboard, the middle-aged woman’s face was frozen in an expression common to one who’d just swallowed a mouthful of sour milk. A bright yellow plastic child’s barrette was clasped to a wiry tuft of gray hair over one ear.

  To her combined pleasure and chagrin, Jamie sat in the chair beside her instead of leaving. Clearly, not only was he an astute businessman and bona fide hunk, Jamie Donlon was also a gentleman. And very nice man.

  Too bad. As pleasant as it was to discover that the man of her dreams was a good guy, she absolutely had to get rid of him before her mother stormed the admitting area and engaged in one of her infamous scenes. The sort of scene that never failed to make Lyla cringe, shrink and shrivel. There was no question as to whether or not it might happen. It was inevitable.

  At any other time Lyla would have basked in Jamie’s attention—bathed in it, licked it up, slathered it all over her body… But she’d never get the chance now. Uh-uh. If only Jamie could have shown his attentive side before Dawn went into labor. If she’d had just a little time alone with him so they could have gotten to know each other she might have had time to make a really good impression on him. He actually might have liked her…maybe even asked her out for a drink or a cup of coffee. Now, Lyla had no doubt all he’d remember would be the impending tornado and the fact that Lyla was spawned from its menacing womb. Glancing at a clock, she sighed. Maybe there was still time.

  “As I was saying, Jamie, my mother can take me home, so you don’t have to—”

  “Doctor?” the clerk interrupted.

  Lyla furrowed her brow. “I’m sorry, what?”

  “The doctor?”

  Lyla glanced at Jamie and back at the clerk. “Oh, no. No, he’s not the doctor. This is Mr. Donlan, he—”

  Rolling her eyes, the clerk expelled a noisy sigh of exasperation. “The name of Dawn Hogan’s doctor, please.”

  “Oh. Sorry,” Lyla said, offering an apologetic smile to the woman. “I’m still a little unsettled because of the situation. You see, my sister’s husband isn’t here to be with her and this is their first—”

  “Doctor?” the woman repeated.

  When Jamie patted her hand, Lyla about jumped out of her skin. She knew the gesture was meant to comforting but it had just the opposite affect. The pleasurable electric sensation of his skin on hers rattled her completely. And of all the dopiest, most inopportune times, she felt her pussy trickle. The admitting clerk’s protracted grumbling sigh fetched Lyla’s attention back to the matter at hand.

  The clerk glared at Lyla impatiently and repeated in her same tired monotone, “Doctor?”

  Lyla cleared her throat. “Adams. Doctor Martin Adams. He’s on staff here.”

  His hand fully clasped over Lyla’s, Jamie leaned closer as he spoke softly. “Take a deep breath and relax. Everything’s going to be okay. I’ll stay right here with you.”

  The soothing tone of his voice combined with the drugging essence of his close proximity was flat-out hypnotic. For a moment Lyla could almost imagine that she and Jamie were alone. She could so easily envision turning her head and inching closer until their lips met, tenderly at first and then with the force of unquenched desire. Looking at him up close now, tracing the outline of his full sensuous lips with her eyes, Lyla couldn’t help but wonder if his kisses were even more drugging in person than they were in her Wednesday night fantasies. She laughed to herself. Silly question. Of course they would be.

  “Your sister’s in good hands,” Jamie continued, snapping Lyla’s attention back to the present. “She’s going to be just fine. Besides, I get the impression Dawn’s the kind of woman who can most definitely take care of herself.” He winked.

  Lyla laughed. “You’re very perceptive, Jamie.” She glanced at her watch and her heart sank as she realized that if Jamie didn’t leave right away, it would be too late. Lord only knew what her overbearing mother would do when she saw that her daughter was accompanied by a black man. Nope, it didn’t take much imagination for Lyla to visualize herself keeling over and dying of humiliation, right there in the admitting area of the hospital. But each time she tried to broach the subject to Jamie, the cranky clerk grumbled and continued to press on through her battery of questions.

  As the sour woman plodded on, Lyla tried to make their necessary exchange a bit more pleasant. Her attempts at agreeable conversation were met with a steely-eyed glare, as if to say, get on with it lady, you’re wasting my time. The clerk offered no hint of a smile, compassion or concern, just the perfunctory expressionless mechanics needed to complete her job.

  At the unmistakable sound of her mother’s bellowing harangue coming from behind, Lyla stiffened and shut her eyes for a moment, squeezing Jamie’s hand tightly without even realizing it at first. An instant later, Virginia McGraw flew into the admitting area sporting a sneer rivaling the admitting clerk’s. Lyla slunk low in her seat.

  “I’m Dawn Hogan’s mother. Where is my daughter?” Virginia boomed at the personnel behind the front counter. “She needs me. I demand to see her immediately.”

  Glancing down at her hand clasped over Jamie’s, Lyla immediately released her vise-like grip and gently touched his arm. “Listen, Jamie, I’ve got to apologize in advance and try to explain about my mother.” She sucked in a wobbly breath and swallowed hard. “You see, the woman’s absolutely—”

  “Lyla! Where the hell have you been hiding all this time?”

  It was too late.

  With the niceties out of the way, Virginia dragged a chair over from the next cubicle. After brushing away invisible specks of dust, she perched her skinny designer-clad butt on the edge of the seat.

  “Do you have any idea what this bungling hospital staff has put me through?”

  Without waiting for an answer, she hurled question after question at Lyla. With each successive flap of her mother’s jaw, Lyla felt smaller and more insignificant. Any confidence she’d been able to muster earlier for Jamie’s benefit had been obliterated as Virginia’s raw, commanding voice and demeanor hammered Lyla down in her place.

  Lyla chanced a glance in Jamie’s direction, only to find a blank expression of bewilderment masking his handsome features. Thank God Lyla was a top-selling real estate sales associate. At least he wouldn’t think she was a total loss.

  Miss Personality behind the computer was busy heaving audible sighs and tsks. Lyla supposed they were meant to be interpreted as her way of saying Lyla’s attention was needed to complete the required data entry. She turned to face the dour, wire-haired woman, but before she could speak Virginia slapped her hand against the counter.

  “Excuse me,” Virginia snarled at the clerk. “Just who do you think you’re hissing and tsking at? I hope that display of coarse rudeness wasn’t directed at me or my daughter. We are in the midst of a serious medical crisis here. Have you no sense of decorum whatsoever?”

  Lyla cracked a smile. Leave it to her mother to consider childbirth a serious medical crisis. Lyla rarely derived joy from her mother’s frequent displays of indignation, especially when they were directed at her, but this was one time she almost enjoyed it. Unfortunately, Virginia’s mighty reprimand was all but lost on the cranky, craggy-faced admitting clerk.

  “Ma’am, birth is not a medical crisis except in rare situations,” the admitting clerk countered with a roll of her eyes.

  “Don’t you roll your eyes at me,” Virginia said, thrusting a finger at the c
lerk. “I know what childbirth is like. I nearly gave up my life twice giving birth. At nearly ten pounds, Lyla,” Virginia motioned toward her daughter, “was absolutely huge. I had such a hard time having her that I developed toxemia and almost died. Aside from that, she was breech. So don’t you propose to tell me what childbirth is like.”

  Lyla dropped her head into her hand and groaned. Virginia had certainly regaled her daughters often enough with her horror stories of their births, so Lyla wasn’t at all surprised. But did her mother have to repeat the whole sordid story in front of Jamie?

  “And furthermore,” Virginia continued unimpeded, “they told me at the front desk that I couldn’t see my daughter. That’s ridiculous. Unacceptable. Dawn needs me. I insist on seeing her immediately.”

  “Look, grandma,” the clerk said through a determined sneer, “first of all you—”

  “Grandma!” Virginia huffed and puffed. “How dare you, you unkempt miscreant.”

  “You can’t see her until after the baby is born,” the clerk continued without the blink of an eye. “Period. End of discussion. Secondly, when your daughter and her husband here,” she motioned to Lyla and Jamie, “brought Mrs. Hogan in she was perfectly fine and in the normal stages of labor. So let’s not get hysterical over nothing, okay?” She shook her head and went back to entering information into the computer.

  Eyes ablaze, Virginia whipped her head toward Jamie, giving him a chilling once-over. It was as if he’d been invisible up to that moment. “Husband!” She returned her attention to the admitting clerk. “Are you blind as well as stupid? The man’s a negro for heaven’s sake.” Virginia turned her steely gaze on Lyla. “Where did she get the idea that this colored man is your husband? I assumed he was a taxicab driver. Just exactly what in the hell is going on here?”

  A scorching mix of anger and mortification scalded Lyla’s throat. She moved her mouth, but nothing came out. One poisonous utterance from her mother, and she felt about as powerful, confident and in control as a block of salt.

  Jamie cleared his throat and extended his hand. “I’m Jamie Donlon, Mrs. Lassiter. I’m Lyla’s broker at—”

  “I am not Mrs. Lassiter,” Virginia spat, disregarding Jamie’s outstretched hand except to glimpse it as if it were something unclean. “Frank Lassiter was my good-for-nothing first husband. If you feel the need to address me then please have the courtesy to call me by my correct name.”

  “I can’t believe this,” Lyla broke in after finding her voice again. “Oh God, Mother, stop. Please just stop right now before you cause any further damage.” Her pleading was met with a haughty harrumph from Virginia. Lyla turned her attention to Jamie, which was hard as hell considering the circumstances. “I honest to God don’t even know what to say to you, Jamie. I mean, there’s nothing I could possibly say to explain or make up for my mother’s appalling behavior. I am so sorry.” Her shoulders slumped and she let out a pained groan. Humiliation might not kill her, but it could sure as hell make her wish she were dead. Please, Lord, just take me now and get it over with.

  “There’s no need to apologize for your mother, Lyla.” Jamie offered a reassuring wink. “Admittedly it’s been a while since I’ve found myself in this sort of situation but I can assure you it’s one with which I’m quite familiar.” Head held high, Jamie turned to Virginia, offering a cool, professional smile. “I beg your pardon. I didn’t realize your name wasn’t Lassiter. What is your name?”

  “Lyla, who is this strange man addressing me? Why is he here claiming to be your husband and intruding on our private family crisis?”

  “Mother! For chrissakes, Mr. Donlon is my broker. He’s—”

  “Broker? Am I supposed to know what that means? What is that, some sort of salesmanspeak for boss?”

  “Close enough, Mom,” Lyla answered. “And he is not claiming to be my husband, for heaven’s sake.” She turned to eye Jamie again, doing her best to convey an apologetic smile. She saw the muscle in his jaw flexing as if he were grinding his teeth. “I tried to warn you, Jamie,” she said in a near whisper. “Mom’s name is Virginia McGraw.”

  “If you feel the need to speak to me, you may call me Mrs. McGraw,” Virginia said icily as she looked down her nose at Jamie.

  “Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. McGraw,” Jamie offered, extending his hand a second time. Again, Virginia looked at it as if it were diseased and Jamie dropped it. “I brought Lyla and her sister to the hospital because Lyla’s car—”

  “Ahem,” the admitting clerk piped up. “Can you please set your family squabbles aside so we can get on with this? I don’t have all day, ya know?” She proceeded to ask Lyla the remaining questions, ignoring several intrusions by Virginia.

  Lyla, who felt like an ineffective, fading specter, figured it was pretty much obvious to anyone that Virginia McGraw loathed being disregarded or ignored. Throughout the rest of the admitting process, Virginia mumbled snide comments about the intelligence level of today’s clerical workers and how an increasing number of classless slugs populated the work force. And then, as if the cake needed an extra bit of icing, Virginia glanced at her daughter, giving her a disapproving once-over.

  At that moment, having a fairly good idea of what was coming, Lyla was particularly unhappy that the earth hadn’t opened and swallowed her whole as she’d previously prayed. Come on, Lord, there’s still time…

  “Just look at those thunder thighs,” Virginia snarled with a dramatic sigh. Tsking, she shook her head. “And what is that you’re wearing? Don’t tell me you dress that way for work. Haven’t I told you at least a dozen times not to wear slacks, Lyla? You know damn well you have your grandmother’s hips and you can’t wear pants without drawing attention to that big behind of yours.” Groaning, Virginia slanted her daughter a vexed expression. “Honestly, Lyla,” she droned on, “you really do need to monitor what you eat before your weight problem gets completely out of hand.”

  “Thank you, Mother. Thank you very much. It’s just that kind of loving support that propels me toward the nearest Burger King.” Lyla turned away from her mother and massaged her forehead.

  “Maybe if you spent more time working on that sarcastic attitude of yours,” Virginia huffed, “and less time inhaling Whoppers, you’d gain a little self-control and lose that hideous weight. You look like an elephant for heaven’s sake.”

  Jamie Donlon remained completely quiet and motionless.

  Feeling about as attractive and diminutive as a carnival fat lady, Lyla made a mental note to pick up the Sunday paper and scour the help wanted ads. Surely there was another real estate office far, far away that could use a good, hardworking sales agent with thunder thighs.

  Finally, the seemingly endless procedure of questioning was completed. Gathering her copy of the admitting papers, Dawn’s purse and her own handbag, Lyla rose from her chair. She felt as if the weight of the world was pressing her back down as she turned toward Jamie. She could barely look him in the eye and once again found herself at a loss for words. She only hoped that he didn’t think she shared her mother’s narrow-minded values.

  Before she could say anything to Jamie, Virginia rose abruptly and yanked Lyla’s arm, pulling her a few feet away from where Jamie still sat. “You’re not sleeping with Mr. Slick over there, are you?” Virginia said under her breath as she nodded in Jamie’s direction. Lyla gasped. “That would be total irresponsibility on your part, Lyla, what with AIDS and all.”

  Raking stiff fingers through her hair, Lyla groaned. “Mother, I already explained to you that Mr. Donlon is my broker—my boss—at the real estate office. Nothing more.”

  “Don’t make the same mistake I did with that no-good rotten father of yours,” Virginia pressed on. “Just because a man is good in bed doesn’t mean he’s decent and upright.”

  “Fist of all, I really wish you wouldn’t talk about Daddy that way. He was a good husband until you divorced him and a wonderful father. Second of all, Mom, listen to me. I am not sleeping with Jamie Don
lon. Got that? He was simply kind enough to rearrange his busy schedule so he could bring us here to the hospital because my car had a flat tire. Understand? Now please let go of my arm. You’re embarrassing me,” she said, trying to wrench her elbow from her mother’s unyielding grip.

  Virginia released her hold. “Don’t lie to me, Lyla. Remember, I’m your mother and I can always tell when you’re lying. I thought I raised you to be a lady, not some easy roll in the hay—some slut—for any set of muscles that comes along and throws some attention your way. And I sure as hell brought you up better than to sleep with a—”

  “Enough!” Lyla snarled. “Why do you always have to do this? For God’s sake, Mother, stop treating me like a child. I’m a grown woman. What I do in my personal life, including who I do and don’t sleep with, whether black, white, green, red or purple, is not your concern.” Lyla rolled her eyes and sighed. “Now, will you please lower your voice? You’re attracting attention.”

  “If you want to be treated like an adult then act like one,” Virginia plowed ahead. “There’s nothing worse than getting involved in an office romance. You sleep with the boss and every guy in that office will have you pegged for an easy lay. And if you spread your legs for a colored man they’d think you’re a loose woman with no morals. They’d think you were trash and they’d be right, Lyla. Can you imagine how that would reflect on me? I could never live down the shame.”

  Lyla opened her mouth to counter but Jamie stepped to her side, placing his hand on Lyla’s back.

  “Why don’t you two lovely ladies let me buy you a cup of coffee,” he said with a charming smile. Lyla wondered how much he’d heard before arriving at her side. Virginia wasn’t exactly known for the muted quality of her voice. Lyla couldn’t imagine why the poor man hadn’t run out of the hospital by now. This ugliness brought on by her mother most certainly couldn’t be pleasant or comfortable for Jamie.

  “That’s really very nice of you, Jamie, but I’ve already imposed enough. More than enough.” Lyla looked skyward and heaved a sigh.