Читать книгу A Touch Of Love - Sheryl Lister - Страница 13

Chapter 4

Lexia scanned her surroundings. Thick smoke filled the air, a large hole sat in the center of the street and nearby buildings were damaged, including the one housing her café. Her front window had been shattered, as well as several other ones in the building. She saw a few injured people being tended to and wondered if anyone had been killed. Since it was midmorning, most people were working. Had it been an hour later, things would have been much worse. She turned her attention to Khalil, who lay with his eyes closed. Lexia toyed with trying to get him up and inside, but every movement seemed to increase his pain and she didn’t want to cause him further injury.

Khalil opened his eyes. “Lexia, I can’t hear anything.”

Although he tried to hide it, Lexia saw it for a split second. Fear. She assumed the blast had damaged his hearing and prayed it was temporary. She sensed his fear rising and placed her hand gently on his chest. She used the other one to turn his face toward her and mouthed, “You’re going to be okay.” He placed his hand over hers on his chest and she leaned down and placed a soft kiss on his lips. Khalil stared up at her with a strange look on his face and, belatedly, she realized what she had done. Before she could analyze it, people began streaming from the building and she caught the gaze of his brother. Lexia waved at him.

His eyes widened when he noticed Khalil and he pushed through the crowd. He dropped to his knees in his expensively tailored slacks, concern evident in his face. “Khalil, are you okay? Where are you hurt?”

Lexia laid a hand on his arm. “He can’t hear you.”

He whipped his head around. “What do you mean he can’t hear me?”

“The blast. I think it damaged his hearing. He told me he couldn’t hear anything.”

He cursed and whipped out his cell phone. He snapped at a 911 operator who, apparently, wasn’t responding to his satisfaction. “Well, how long is it going to take? My brother is lying in the street injured.”

Lexia understood where he was coming from. She felt just as helpless. Finally, four fire trucks and a number of paramedics descended on the scene. “They’re here.”

He glanced up, mumbled something that sounded like a thank-you and disconnected the call. “I’ll be right back.” He stood.

“Brandon.” Khalil tried to sit up and moaned again.

Brandon stopped and placed a hand on Khalil’s shoulder. “Whoa. Don’t try to get up.” He turned to Lexia. “Make sure he doesn’t move.”

She nodded.

Khalil rolled his head in her direction. “Brandon is bossy as hell,” he whispered. “I don’t have to hear to know what’s he’s about to do. Don’t let him piss off the paramedics. Otherwise, they’ll leave me lying on this sidewalk all damn day.”

Lexia smiled and nodded. She glanced up in time to see Brandon pointing in their direction and standing over the paramedic, with a heavy scowl—just as Khalil predicted—until the man followed. She and Brandon moved off to the side while the medic assessed Khalil.

A moment later, another medic joined them with a gurney. The first one spoke to Brandon. “By his shallow breathing and pain when I barely press on the area, I’d say he has a couple of broken ribs.”

“And he can’t hear,” Lexia added.

“Thanks,” the medic said. “I’ll make sure to let them know at the hospital.” He nodded to the other paramedic and they carefully transferred Khalil to the gurney.

Brandon stepped forward. “I’m coming with him.”

His tone and the look on his face let Lexia know he wouldn’t take no for an answer. Apparently the paramedic realized it, as well, and nodded.

“Are you coming?”

She glanced over at Khalil then up at Brandon. As much as she wanted to go, Lexia didn’t think it was her place. “No. But can you please let me know how he’s doing?”

“I will. Thanks for being here with him.” He laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, then left.

She wrapped her arms around her middle and watched as they loaded Khalil into the ambulance and drove off.

“Is he going to be okay?”

Lexia turned at the sound of Sam’s voice. “I think so. But the blast damaged his ears. He can’t hear.”

Sam brought her hand to her mouth. “Oh no.”

She recalled the split second of vulnerability she’d seen and her emotions swelled once more.

“Come on, Lexi. I’m sure he’ll be okay.”

Lexia took one last glance around and nodded. On the way, she spied Khalil’s phone. She had no problems recognizing it because of the distinctive custom case featuring his gym’s logo. She picked it up and brushed off the debris. Other than a few cracks on the face, the phone seemed to be intact. Inside, she froze upon seeing Cameron sweeping up glass from the shattered window. Tears welled in her eyes. This was the man she knew—clean shaven, low-cut hair and neatly groomed appearance. He had on a pair of black khakis and a gray polo shirt.

Cameron paused with the broom. “You good, Lexi?”

“Yeah. You clean up nicely.”

He grinned. “I knew you were going to say that.” He shook his head and resumed the task, along with James, who had come out of the kitchen to help with the cleanup.

Jayla held up her phone. “It says it was a natural gas explosion. Two workers were killed and several others injured.” She looked down at the screen and read for a moment, then added, “This one is considered mild and could have been much worse.”

Lexia grabbed a towel and a trash bag and joined Samantha in clearing glass off the tables. She sighed. Mild or not, it would take a lot of work to repair the businesses damaged, including her own. Her heart went out to the families of the two workers and the rest of the people who had been injured. Automatically, her thoughts shifted to Khalil and how he was doing. It dawned on her that she hadn’t given Brandon her number and would most likely have to wait until he came to work tomorrow to find out any information. If he came in. She should have gone to the hospital.

* * *

Khalil slowly came awake, glanced around the room and saw his entire family. It took a moment before everything came rushing back and he realized he was lying in a hospital bed. He moved and pain shot through his midsection. He must have made a sound because his mother crossed the room in two strides and ran her hands critically over his face. His head throbbed, the loud ringing in his ears hadn’t stopped, his chest felt like someone was standing on it every time he breathed deeply—and he still couldn’t hear a sound. Khalil scanned their concerned faces. “I’m all right, Mom.” He frowned and gently pushed her hand away from the bandage on his temple. He saw all their mouths moving and an overwhelming sense of frustration surged inside him. Brandon raised his hand and got their attention and said something. Brandon obviously told them about Khalil’s hearing loss because all eyes turned Khalil’s way and his mother and two sisters, Siobhan and Morgan, started crying and rushed over to the bed. Even Faith had tears in her eyes. His father looked stricken.

Khalil leaned back against the pillows and closed his eyes. This is all I need right now. He couldn’t stand to see them cry and bit back the urge to tell them all to leave. He sent his brothers and brothers-in-law a pleading glance. They gathered their wives, and together with his parents exited, leaving only his younger brother, Malcolm.

Malcolm pulled a chair close to the bed and sat. For the first few minutes, the pro football running back said nothing as if he knew Khalil needed a moment.

“I never could stand to see them cry.”

Malcolm took out his phone, typed something and handed it to Khalil.

He read: “Neither can I. What do you need me to do? Oh, and you should probably lower your voice.” Because he couldn’t hear himself, Khalil had no idea how to modulate his voice. “Is this better?” he asked in what he hoped was a softer sound.

He nodded.

“Did the doctor say how long I’d be like this?”

Malcolm took the phone, typed again and handed it back.

“Brandon said the doctor told him your eardrums were ruptured from the blast and the hearing loss could last a few days, months or, depending on the damage, longer. He mentioned referring you to a specialist.”

Khalil dropped the phone on his lap and cursed. What if his hearing didn’t come back? He couldn’t be deaf forever. The thought of never hearing his favorite song on the radio, the waves crashing against the shore while standing on his balcony or the laughter around the table at his family’s monthly dinners made the same panic he’d felt while lying on the sidewalk come back full force. He passed the phone back to his brother, who began typing again. Was there more? He knew about the broken ribs, slight concussion and sprained wrist, thanks to a nurse who had written the information down for him while in emergency. Khalil couldn’t imagine what else could be wrong and wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

Malcolm stood and held the phone close enough for Khalil to read.

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.

Over the next half hour, all his siblings came in and out of the room and his mother continued to hover. He appreciated their love and support, but the only thing he wanted was to be alone and prayed that when he woke up in the morning, he’d be able to hear again.