Free Tappin' On Thirty by Candice Dow

I chuckled. “I don’t even know if I want kids of my own.”
    She nodded. “Yes, you do. All women do.”
    â€œDon’t put us all in a box. Some of us are different.”
    She ignored my declaration of independence. “Taylor, I really do want you to meet Mr. Patterson. I think he’ll be back tomorrow.”
    â€œI’ll be out of the office tomorrow and Thursday.”
    She gasped. “Dang! You’re going to miss him.”

11
    SCOOTER
    S peaking in an unacceptable decibel at five o’clock in the morning, Akua stood over top of me, “Why did you leave the television running all night?”
    My purpose for sleeping on the couch was so she would not wake me when she left for work. Couldn’t we discuss this when I got to the hospital at seven? I covered my ears. She grabbed my jeans from the floor and stomped away. She spoke to herself loud enough for me to hear, “He doesn’t think. Does he even look at the electric bill? This is ridiculous.”
    I pulled the quilt over my head. Like, really. How much does it cost to run the television all night? It’s easier to ignore her, than to respond. Slinging things around the room, she continued to argue. Finally, I yelled out, “Akua, shut up! I’m tryna sleep.”
    She stormed from the room. “I wanted to sleep too, but you”—she pointed her index finger at me—“left the television on all night.”
    I sprang up. “Are you satisfied now? Are you happy that I’m up?”
    She stormed back into the room. “That’s not the point. I want you to pay attention to what you’re doing.”
    Does she even realize how ignorant some of the things she says sound? I stomped behind her in my mind. In reality, my knees conked out and pushed me back onto the couch. Lacking the energy to bicker, I dropped my head in my hands. Slowly, I wiped my face. “What makes you think I’m not paying attention?”
    When she didn’t respond, I knew my voice was too low for her to hear. After a few deeps breaths, I staggered into the room. “Why don’t you come out there and cut it off for me if it bothers you that bad?”
    I plopped on the bed. She stomped around me throwing her scrubs and clean underwear on the bed beside me. Her neck moved in the same zigzag motion as her pointed finger. “My man shouldn’t be out there every night. You should be in here with me.”
    Too exhausted to sympathize with her, I stretched out on the bed and huffed, “Akua, don’t even try it.”
    She headed to the bathroom and yelled, “Go to hell!”
    I chuckled at her last words. She slammed the bathroom door, and I was asleep by the time she finished.
    Â 
    When I got to the hospital, my head was still throbbing. As I reviewed my charts, I winced. My attending physician stood beside me, “Is everything okay?”
    I nodded. Damn. I had two surgeries with Akua. Her nasty moods last all day. I sighed. The first surgery was scheduled for 9:30. I checked the clock on the wall. Should I try and catch her between surgeries just to settle our beef? As I got into the mix, time slipped away. Akua and I ran into each other, both running a few minutes behind schedule.
    She surprised me with a stiff peck on the lips. “Hey, Doc.”
    â€œHey, baby.”
    She laughed. “Did you turn the lights off in the house?”
    â€œDon’t start that shit with me this morning.”
    After we scrubbed down we headed into the operating room. I thought she said something, so I asked, “What?”
    She smirked. “Don’t start with me.”
    I put my finger up to my mouth. Last thing we needed was to walk into the OR in the middle of a squabble. I smiled. She didn’t. The nurses had already prepped the patient. I asked my required questions and told the patient what I’d be doing. Finally, I did my part, and the patient drifted off