Love In Twenty And Five

DAY THREE

Mike made his way into St. John's Children's Hospital that morning, not at all happy to be back. He hated the thought of being practically threatened into working here, and having to endure the doctor lurking somewhere in the corner. Every where he turned, she was there. He was beginning to wonder if she had nothing better to do.

Pushing the janitorial cart, he pressed the button of the elevator and waited for the doors to part. He had been reassigned to the third floor that morning, and while he hoped his reassignment would mean seeing less of that nosey doctor, he doubted it.

A ding sound followed his thoughts, after which, the elevator doors opened. Thankfully, the elevator was empty; he smiled, pushing the cart in. He reached for the button of the third floor, and was about to push it, when his attention was immediately drawn to a nurse who was now practically racing down the hallways.

“Hold it!” she yelled, waving her hands in the air.

Glancing down in feigned ignorance of her request, Mike pushed the button; the last thing he wanted was to be stuck in an elevator with a stranger. She was halfway to him, when the doors began to close. Praying earnestly that the doors would close before she got to him, his prayers went unanswered when she got to the elevator quickly enough to stick her hand in between the doors just when they were only two inches from each other.

Mike groaned as he watched the elevator doors open fully once more, and the woman stepped in.

“Don't act like you didn't hear me hollering a few seconds ago.” She turned fully to him, her tone reprimanding him.

Shrugging, his gaze briefly moved from her cornrows to her oink scrubs, before settling on his cart. He moved toward the cart, holding it as a barrier between them because he wasn’t up for conversation.

“If I didn't know better, I would think you were trying to avoid me.”

“I was just trying to get to the third floor,” he murmured to himself.

“I find that hard to believe.” She folded her arms. “And what's with the cart shield? Think I'm going to cut you or something? Think just because I'm black, I'm going to try to rob you of your money?”

Mike sighed, wondering how the conversation escalated so quickly. “No, ma'am.”

She eyed him for a few seconds, a deep frown on her face. “You're gonna need to prove it.”

Mike was starting to wonder just how far the third floor was. He looked up, and sighed in exhaustion.

“Cause we don't need no racist working here, you know?”

“I can assure you, I ain't no racist.” Neither am I voluntarily working here.

“Are you being smart with me?” She stepped forward, and for a second, Mike did imagine her pulling out a gun and robbing him. What was wrong with this stupid elevator?!

“No, I'm not. I would just like to get to the third floor.”

“And I'd like you to prove to me that you're not racist.”

“How?” he finally asked, desperate for the conversation to end.

“I need a date for a surprise bridal shower tonight. My date bailed on me in the last minute, and I would hate to go alone. Wanna come?”

Mike would have agreed to anything at that point. “Sure,” he nodded swiftly.

She smiled then, eyes lightening up as she pulled out a card from her pocket and stuck it in his cart. “The address is on the card.” She turned from him and pushed the elevator button, causing him to realize in that second that they had not been moving.