Chapter 2 I am Sorry

Ismail parked his Toyota Tundra truck at the beginning of the trail that led to Shere hill and pulled his mountain bike from the back of the truck. Nothing developed his strength better and a sense of freedom than mountain biking. He flexed and rolled the wrist he broke last year. It had cost him a spot on the Olympic Triathlon team representing Nigeria.

Chucks Ndu, his training partner, strapped on his helmet and tapped his bike handles. "What's up with you, what has got you all and bothered, Is it the hot nurse?"

"She likes me." Ismail said tightened his helmet.

He wasn't about to admit that he messed up with the mouth-to-mouth prank. After all, he was making progress, and she did kiss him back, a little, at all; at all, na im bad pass.

"Have you tapped it yet? You don knack am? " Chucks asked while looking at Ismail with raised eyebrows. Ismail took a swig from his water bottle.

"No. She's not that type, moreover it might not work out."

"Roll with me, and I'll show you the Chucks smoothie. Women don't stand a chance." Chucks climbed on his bicycle and barreled down a dirt path into the nature reserve.

Aminat was so pretty and smart, and challenging. He'd stop by the clinic later on and try to change her mind with more flowers. She'd come around once she realized he was one of the good guys who cared about her feelings.

The sun peeked from the tops of the rock formations, casting shadows among the rocks and shrubs scattered around. Chucks was several yards ahead of him, whooping and shouting like a crazy man, barely avoiding going into a tailspin on a hairpin turn.

The Bluetooth earpiece paired with Ismail's Samsung phone rang. He answered it, not being able to look at the screen while on his bike. "Yes, who am I speaking to?"

"Hello, big bro." It was Hauwa, his twenty-four-year-old sister. "Where are you?"

"What do you mean, where am I? I'm in Jos, where else would I be."

"Mama's saying you think you're too good to call home."

"I've been busy." He put a leg down to dodge a rock out cropping. Chucks disappeared around a switchback. Ismail pumped hard up a steep incline and rounded a bend near a clearing. The unbroken view of the majestic rock formations and clear blue sky never failed to take his breath away and make him stand in awe, not to mention the hard exercise.

"You didn't pick me up at the airport, so I had to take a keke."

"Keke? What are you talking about?" Don't tell me you are here.

"I'm at your flat with the gateman. He won't let me in unless he speaks to you."

His breath whistled from between his teeth. It was typical of his family to spring surprises on him. "How long are you staying?"

"Until I find a job." When will that be Hauwa? "Haba yahaya, let me land first."

Chucks gestured at the sky, and Ismail braked to join him. "Who's on the phone?" Chucks asked.

"My sister's at my apartment."

Chucks grimaced. "Too bad. She going to interfere with your love life and cramp your style."

Ismail waved him off and spoke to his sister. "Put the gateman on."

The gateman greeted him, and Ismail gave his permission. The phone was handed back to Hauwa, and he heard her thank the gateman and the sound of the gate opening.

"Listen, I have rules," Ismail said.

"Rules smules. This place's a mess. How'll you ever get a girlfriend into this pigsty?"

Ismail removed his helmet and wiped his forehead. "Rule number one. No alcohol. I don't care if you're over twenty-one. No drinking, no smoking, no drugs, no shisha. And rule number two, no overnight friends, men or women."

"You didn't even make your bed. Is that a woman's thong?"

"Stay out of my room! That's the other thing; you get the guest room." Ismail rubbed the back of his sore neck.

"Wow, you're a real gentleman. I'm calling Ma to let her know I arrived safely, no thanks to you."

"You could have at least called ahead."

"Ma doesn't call anyone you know that. You want to talk to her, you call. She's still pissed at you for dropping out of law school."

"Thanks for the news flash. Anything else?"

"You better call her and tell her you're coming home." His sister's voice rattled his eardrums. "What the heck are you doing? Acting like a fool. Riding bikes and swimming all day long. It's not like you're going to make the Olympics."

And that was exactly why he was in Northern Nigeria and they were in the West. His family thought they knew what was best for him: law school, a high-paying job, then marriage to a respectable woman, and grandchildren for his parents.

His sister, Hauwa, was a two-faced person. She hid as much from their parents as he did, maybe more, but she always curried favor by ratting on him.

"I have a good shot if I keep training," he said, rubbing his sore neck.

"Training for the geriatric division in 2040." She snorted and hung up.

Ismail made a face at the sky. Even Jos wasn't far enough from their meddling and negative attitude.

After working out, Ismail swung by the clinic with a bouquet of lilies. The last two times he came for shots, he got Chizzy, the petite Igbo nurse with the heart-shaped face. He set the flowers on the counter and rubbed his itchy nose, suppressing a sneeze.

A middle-aged nurse waved her finger at him. "Mai Haka, Can't you read the signs? No fragrances in the waiting room."

"These are for Miss Shehu. Is she working today?"

"I can't talk about our employees' schedules." The nurse guided Ismail across the hallway. "You may leave these with Nanlop."

The sign on the wall said Nanlop, and a receptionist spoke Hausa into the phone. She hung up and turned toward Ismail. "Ah, for me again?"

Ismail looked from the older nurse to the receptionist. "Have you seen Miss Shehu?"

The receptionist smiled brightly. "I'm Nanlop. These flowers are lovely. I'll hold them for her."

"Can you be sure she gets them? There's a personal note." Ismail set the vase down. A flower stem fell behind the counter.

"I'll get it." Nanlop scooted her rolling chair away from her desk.

Ismail peered over the edge to point at the dropped flower. Three displays of dried flowers lay underneath the table with the cards unopened. No wonder she never called or texted him.

Nanlop picked up the stem and tucked it in place, humming a tune and ignoring him. Ismail' face heated. He'd been wasting his time. He shouldn't have played that stupid choking trick on the nice nurse.

He strode out of the waiting room. Was he not good enough for her? He'd let beauty sway him again-big brown eyes, slender eyebrows, pouty lips, and a creamy ebony complexion. Maybe his mother was right. He needed to find a respectable woman at a local masjid. She'd already looked up half a dozen of the masjids in his Jos North for him and had been urging him to report the single male-female ratio to her.

"Mr. Abubakar, your appointment?" a nurse called after him

He walked faster toward the exit and plowed into a woman coming around the corner. The tray she was carrying dropped onto the carpet, scattering small vials across the hallway.

"I'm so sorry." Ismail bent to pick them up and bumped her head with his jaw.

"Ow!" It was Aminat Shehu. "You made me drop all the allergy shots."

"Sorry. I'll help you." He handed them to her, and she fitted them in the marked slots.

"You're here for your shots?" she asked.

"I was, but something came up." He avoided her gaze. He'd been a pest, sending her flowers. If his sister ever found out about this fiasco, she'd mock him, and he wouldn't hear the end of it.

The pretty Aminat finished tucking all the vials in place. "Will you be by later? You can't miss a week, or you'll have to start over."

"Let me get it." He picked up the tray. "Are you okay?"

A smile swept her face. "I was fine until a certain klutz barreled into me."

"Sorry." He followed her through the waiting room.

"No apologies needed. Why don't you take a seat, and I'll call you after I put these in the refrigerator?" She took the tray from him and went through the staff door, glancing back right before the door closed.

His heart thumping, Ismail sat at the far side of the clinic and wiped his palms on his jeans. A twenty-eight-year-old man acting like a starstruck adolescent was utterly ridiculous. But Aminat's smile was warm, and she appeared friendly.

She called his name, and he stepped into the clinic. This time, he wore a short-sleeved button down shirt so he wouldn't have to pull off his shirt to access his upper arms.

Aminat waved him to her station. He wanted to say something witty or funny, but the words wouldn't come. She hadn't acknowledged the flowers, and he didn't want to say anything he'd regret.

She handed him the peak-flow meter to measure his airflow, and he blew the indicator to the top-twelve hundred.

"You know, we have some patients who can barely blow three hundred." She stuck a syringe into the top of a vial and tapped it.

He presented his right arm. "I don't know why I have to blow this thing."

"You sound like you're having a bad day." Her eyebrows creased as if she were concerned.

"I bumped into you, and-"

"Oh! And I'm definitely the last nurse you wanted to poke you today."

"No, you're fine." He held out his arm, and she rubbed it with alcohol before inflicting a stinging burn.

She dropped the needle into the used container. "Don't tell me you're feeling bad about knocking down my vials."

"It's not that. I ... uh, brought you flowers, but ... I guess you don't want them."

She dabbed his arm. "I'm not sure what you're trying to do."

"I'm sorry about the stunt I pulled to get your attention. I don't know what got into me."

She injected him again. "You embarrassed me. I'm not some kind of joke. I'm a professional, a nurse."

"I respect you." He pressed a tissue to clot the blood. The adrenaline in his veins stung along with the shot.

"You do?" Her eyes flashed, so lovely and lethal. "I worked hard to get my degree and earn a spot on this team. My boss was upset about the flowers."

"You didn't even read the notes."

"Other arm?"

He pushed up his shirt sleeve. Chizzy walked by and beckoned for his attention. "She likes chocolates." Chizzy whispered to him in a stage whisper.

Aminat filled another syringe. "Do you have any Cats or dogs? It's a pity, you can't have any pets."

"No time with my training schedule and work."

"Work? What do you do?" She injected him, this time more gently.

"I'm a special education coach. I train kids for the Para Olympics and teach swimming. And I also compete"

She set the syringe down. "That's really something. Do you enjoy working with them? And do you live with a disability? If you also compete"

"Yeah." He couldn't help smiling. "The small victories add up, and they're always so enthusiastic. When you help them achieve a goal, it's like you're on top of Mt. Everest. And no I don't live with a disability, I compete in the normal Olympics, I bike."

"I'd like to hear more about what you do." Her gaze lingered on him while she drew the last shot. "My break's coming up."

Wow. What happened? Was she really asking him to spend time with her? His day just got better, and when she gave him the last shot, it felt like the needle barely pricked him. His confidence rose with his pulse, and he took a deep breath. "I'll be in the waiting room, Miss Shehu."

"Aminat." Her cheeks dimpled. "Bring me the notes with the flowers and meet me at the exit."

Ismail rushed across the hall to Nanlop's desk, surprising Nanlop who was sniffing the lilies.

"I found Aminat," he announced. "And she wants the cards."

Nanlop batted her eyelashes. "Trust me, I'm much more fun, and I cook better."

Ismail swallowed his words. Judging from her hips, she probably did make good massa and kunun gaida. He picked the card off the lilies. "Can I get the notes from the other bouquets?"

She hefted herself from the chair and bent below the table, tearing the envelopes off the plastic holders. "Here you go. And here's my card. Good luck with Aminat. You won't get far."

"Why?"

Nanlop looked left and then right. The only people in the vicinity were patients playing with their electronic gadgets. She bent closer and cupped her hand to one side of her mouth. "Rumor has it she's sworn off sex. She and Chizzy, the Igbo nurse, have a bet. First one to fall off the wagon buys the other one a three-day weekend at a spa."

Ismail peered across the hall at the allergy clinic. "How long do they plan on keeping it going?"

"Until one of them scores a marriage proposal, with an engagement ring and a set date. Remember who tipped you off."

"There you are." Aminat glided through the opening to the Nanlop's waiting area and stopped with one hand propped on her hip.

"Bye, you two have fun." Nanlop's voice sing-songed after them.

Ismail mumbled a goodbye and followed Aminat to the hallway. Not having sex could make anyone prickly, although today, she was looking refreshed and delighted. What if it meant?

Ismail brushed the thought aside as Aminat's mouth twisted into a half-smile, half-grimace.

"Were you flirting with her?" she asked.

"Does it bother you?" He handed her the notes. "You were giving me the cold shoulder."

She sashayed in front of him. "You want cold? I'll treat you to an iced cappuccino."

So, she thought she had competition. While she ordered the drinks, he texted an order of dark chocolate truffles to be delivered to the allergy clinic. After adding a few balloons to brighten the treat, his day was definitely looking up.