Sheryl Lister - A Touch Of Love

The gym. He had totally forgotten about it. “Yeah, I do need you to go over. I’ve been having some problems with some of the members being double charged.” Like Khalil, Malcolm had a degree in kinesiology and the two had discussed the possibility of him joining Khalil in the business once he retired from football. He filled Malcolm in on the meeting with Alonzo and his latest phone call with Felicia. “Can you call Alonzo and have him download the images on the camera and check my computer?” Another thought occurred to him. He’d been in the middle of the call with his assistant manager and she probably had no idea what had happened. He didn’t even know what happened to his phone. “Ask Felicia to cancel all my clients and tell her not to come up here. I’m fine.” Not exactly the truth, but he didn’t want another person staring at him with a look of pity. His family had done enough of that. “I’ll contact her in a few days. Oh, and my phone is gone.”

He nodded, typed something else and held up the phone. “Don’t worry about your phone right now. We’ll get you one when you get home.”

Before Khalil could respond, a middle-aged man wearing scrubs and a white jacket, a doctor he assumed, entered carrying what looked like two cell phones.

Malcolm touched Khalil on his uninjured shoulder, pointed toward the door and mouthed, “I’m leaving.”

After his brother left, the doctor pressed a few buttons on the gadgets, then handed one to Khalil. Khalil had been correct about it being a cell phone. He glanced up to see the doctor talking and started to get frustrated until the man pointed at the phone in Khalil’s hand. He shifted his gaze and saw the words automatically being typed on the screen as the doctor talked.

The man introduced himself as Dr. Moyer, the ear, nose and throat specialist and asked several questions before examining Khalil’s ears. “Both eardrums have been perforated. The tear in the right ear is slightly larger than the left.”

After reading the information, Khalil asked, “So, how long will it take for my hearing to return?”

Dr. Moyer shrugged. “Most times the eardrums heal themselves within a few weeks and your hearing will get back to normal. But sometimes it doesn’t.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“Then they may need to be surgically repaired.”

“And this will guarantee my hearing will return?”

The doctor shook his head. “I can’t guarantee to what degree your hearing will return, or if it will at all. We just have to wait and see.”

He didn’t even want to think about not being able to hear again or surgery. “How long before you determine whether I have to have surgery?”

“If your hearing hasn’t returned in three months, we’ll reevaluate our next steps. In the meantime, you’ll need to make sure no water gets in them. I’m going to prescribe an antibiotic eardrop to help protect from infections and I want you to make an appointment with my office so we can get you some information on resources.”

Khalil groaned and closed his eyes. He didn’t have time for this. He had too much to do with the new gym opening in three months, the renovations at the current one and the mess with the members. He sensed the doctor moving closer and opened his eyes. He lifted the phone and followed the words on the screen. “No, I don’t have any other questions.” Nothing other than why couldn’t the man fix the problem right now, instead of waiting?

Brandon poked his head in the door and Khalil waved him in. Not like he’d leave anyway. Khalil was certain Brandon had seen the doctor enter and waited as long as he could. Although marriage had mellowed his big brother somewhat, his intense nature still hovered below the surface. Khalil watched as the doctor and Brandon talked. He assumed Dr. Moyer was sharing the same details he’d given Khalil. Brandon seemed particularly interested in the speech-to-text app and Khalil could see the wheels turning in his brother’s head.

Dr. Moyer handed Khalil a card. “Here’s my card. You can email me with any questions. I know this is a big change, but there’s no reason you can’t continue living a full, productive life.” He pointed to the phones. “I’ll leave these here for you and your family.”

Khalil nodded. “Thanks.”

As soon as the doctor closed the door, Brandon said, “This is so cool. I’m going to talk to Justin and have him check this out. He may be able to design a better app.”

He rolled his eyes. Just like I thought. Always business. Their brother-in-law, Justin Cartwright, had partnered with Gray Home Safety to market his in-home alert system. The system sent real-time data to a smartphone letting the user know whether a door had been opened, a stove had been left on or if there had been no movement in the house for an extended period. The product gave peace of mind to families whose aging parents wanted to continue living independently. “Did that doctor not just tell you I may not ever get my hearing back? Who cares about that damn app right now? Why does everything have to be about business with you?” Khalil blew out a frustrated breath.

Brandon studied Khalil a long moment, then picked up the phone the doctor had left on the bedside tray. “That’s not what he said at all. He said it could heal in a few weeks. In the meantime, you have the equipment for your new gym to finish designing, as well as overseeing the opening to keep you busy. You know we’ll all help.”

“How in the hell am I supposed to do that? I can’t hear a damn thing! I don’t want to depend on anybody driving me everywhere I go, or have everybody write down whatever they want to say all the time. I can’t live like this,” he gritted out. He sat up abruptly and pain shot through his ribs like a crack of lightning, slapping him back down. Khalil cursed. He clenched his fists and took several shallow breaths. It took several moments for the agony to subside.

Brandon’s calm expression hadn’t changed. “Are you done?” He paused for a beat. “Khalil, you are one of the smartest people I know. You learned Spanish and French when you had those modeling gigs in Spain and France, earned two degrees while traveling around the globe and single-handedly turned a gym that was folding under the previous owners into one of the best around. Your right hand is sprained, not your left. I don’t know anything about the driving laws, but none of us have a problem taking you wherever you need to go, if necessary. As far as communication...” Brandon held up the device. “Done. Now, Mom and Dad are out there and anxious to get back in here. If you don’t want Mom insisting you move in with them after you leave this hospital, I suggest you get yourself together, little brother.”

Khalil wanted to punch something. But he knew his brother was right. Khalil was thirty-three and had been living on his own since age eighteen, but that wouldn’t mean a thing if his mother thought for one moment that he couldn’t manage on his own. “Fine. Give me a second before you let them in.”

Minutes later, his parents rushed in behind Brandon. The frown on her face and the rapid movement of her mouth gave Khalil the impression that she was fussing at Brandon. Brandon gave him a look that said, “I told you.”

Brandon showed their parents how to work the speech app and his mother took it and rushed over to the bed.

“How are you feeling, baby? Do you need me to get you anything? Where does it hurt? Do I need to have the nurse bring you something for the pain? Don’t worry, when you’re released, you can stay with us for a couple of weeks until you’re back on your feet.”

The words flew across the screen so fast there were no spaces between the questions. “Mom...” The questions continued. “Mom.” He reached up and gently pried the thing out of her hand. “Mom.” She glared at him. “I’m okay. I do not need to stay with you and Dad. I’ll be fine in my own home.” Or so he hoped. But, then again, he wouldn’t even know if the phone or doorbell rang, or hear his alarm in the mornings. He sighed inwardly.