"Why in the hell would I thank him?" McSexy asks.
"Because his smokescreen saved you from a lot of trouble--saved you from someone who wasn't genuinely interested in your fire."
"For the love of--." McSexy exhales a sigh infused with apprehension. "Not another house fire."
"Another house is on fire," I admit.
"Please, don't."
"I want to hear about the--," Bubbles pipes in.
"You don't," McSexy interrupts with a side eye. "Trust me."
"But this one makes sense," I assure him. "I swear."
"Just say no," he whispers to Bubbles.
"But my mind wants to say yes," she mumbles back.
"Listen. You're a house and there's a fire burning inside you," I begin.
Bubbles stares, jaw partially dropped open. "He's whaaa? Yes--?"
"He's the house and his fireplace is like--who he really is."
McSexy glances towards Bubbles and whispers, "It's about to go south."
"No!" I scold. "I'm being serious! Listen!"
"I'm listening," he assures me. Glancing at his watch, he adds, "But I can only listen for about 20 more seconds. I'm supposed to be saving lives."
Bubbles puckers her lips. "I should pretend I work here, too. Make it fast, baby girl!"
With the added pressure of racing against the clock, I dial my talk speed into high gear like a true Northwesterner. "Originally PamPam wanted to be your home owner because she liked the warmth of your fire. But then the surgeon drifted in like smoke, and she got distracted by his fumes. Instead of loving the home with an amazing fireplace, her attention got redirected to the surgeon's smoke sinking deep into her throat--gagging her like she's never gagged before."
"Going--south," McSexy mutters.
Bubbles puts a hand over her chest. "Oh my, Lawd."
A hot wave spreads across my face. Damn it, Brain! Keep up with Mouth!
McSexy taps his watch, and I launch into the high-speed conclusion of my smoke and fire metaphor explaining why McSexy's unlikely soul mate, Doctor SilverFox, might deserve a nod of thanks. "Doc saved you with his cock-his, his-his cockamamie obsession with younger women. See? He's the smoke-a screen, a filter. But smoke can only distract soul high addictions, it can't detour someone from finding their way home. The heart is like a compass gravitating towards the heat of a person's inner fireplace. If PamPam wanted S'mores-S'more of your hotness-she could've followed the heat coming from your fireplace. All she had to do was get on her hands and knees and crawl under Doc's smoke to get her melted and creamy-the melted and creamy S'more'ness she craves from his-from, from-from your fireplace. Doc's harshswallows-fuck! Marshmallows! Marshmallows! PamPam's marshmallows of desire can only be goldened by the heat of fire, not smoke. Smoke can't golden one's marshmallows. But PamPam got confused. She blindly crawled towards the heat through the smokescreen, but the heat her privates-privates, pilots-PILOT! Her marshmallow pilot of passion didn't set her course to your house-your fireplace. Her desire was S'more of someone or something else. Someone else is her bungalow. Another bungalow has the fireplace she wants-to cook her marshmallows on-for S'mores."
An uncomfortable silence falls upon the room. Unfortunately, I don't like silence. I also don't like uncomfortable. So naturally, I keep talking, but in a slower and quieter tone. "Technically her marshmallows could be black and on fire instead of roasting in someone else's fireplace. Who am I to judge how a marshmallow should be cooked." With a brief pause, I add, "Totally smoked that metaphor right out of the ballpark, amirite?"
"Did that just happen?" Bubbles asks-head tilted to the side and mouth slightly ajar. "And why do marshmallows suddenly make me feel icky?"
McSexy shakes his head, hiding a smirk with his hand. "Should I be worried that made total sense to me?"
"So let me get this straight," Bubbles inquires for clarification. "Smokescreens weed out the life partners from the soul mates?"
"Yes," I confirm. "I think?"
"Smokescreens distinguish who's in it for the high and who's in it for the bungalow." McSexy's summary is both perfect-and sexy. It's sexy because he's a handsome man and he's a man that listens. A man who genuinely listens is about as sexy as it gets. So why do I feel worried? I should be excited a handsome man listened to me.
"I made sense?" I gasp, both hands covering my heart. "For a second there I thought I wasn't-"
"We'll use the term 'made sense' loosely here," Bubbles interrupts, her fingers emphasizing quotation marks around made sense. "But I will say is this: PamPam's a respiratory specialist. She, of all people, should know not to inhale the smoke."
McSexy blows me a kiss, then slaps the arms of his chair with his hands and pushes himself into the standing position. "I think I'll take the knife out of my back and return it. I liked myself better when I was intimidated by no one."
Don't do it, an inner voice begs. Don't let him return the knife!
Bubbles presses her lips into praying hands. "This is a proud moment. Mama is so proud of her boy."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," McSexy says through a chuckle as he walks towards the door. Bubbles slips off the bed and follows him.
Stall him, my inner voice urges. What if you gave McSexy bad advice?
"Wait!" I roll onto my side and gently pull my granny panties down to reveal my hip. "Should you check my hives? It's been about an hour."
Both McSexy and Bubbles cross their arms and scan my body with their eyes, nodding to hums of approval. "Looks better," McSexy says. "Less swelling and redness. How does it feel?"
"I haven't scratched for a while."
"What about your breathing?" he asks.
Bubbles chuckles. "After that high-speed story about cockamamie marshmallows, I'd say her lungs are doing just fine."
I inhale deeply, then exhale slowly. "No more weight on the chest." Except for the weight of worry that my influence could backfire horribly.
"Perfect." McSexy scribbles something on the clipboard. "Let me get this in the computer so we can get you out of here." He winks, then turns to leave.
As the nurse swings open the door, I scramble to the end of the table-bed and grab Bubbles by the wrist. "Don't go," I whisper.
We watch Nurse McSexy exit the room, tight butt strutting-door creeping to a close behind him.
"There's no more egg salad sandwiches," Bubbles says when the latch clicks shut.
"It's not sandwiches. I think I made a big mistake."
"What you talkin' 'bout?"
"What if we gave him bad advice? What if it isn't true? Everything Imma said? Everything I said? What if the surgeon-"
Bubbles cuts me off with a Pshh and a wave of the hand. "Don't be silly."
"I'm serious." In a hushed voice, I whisper, "I corrupt people."
"Oh, really? Who've you been corrupting?"
"Nuns."
"Come again?"
"I've corrupted a Catholic nun!"
Bubbles raises an eyebrow. "Say a couple Hail Marys and call it good." She gives me an endearing pat on the head, then opens the door. But as she takes a step into the threshold, she freezes.
We both see it-across the hallway, behind the nurse's station. McSexy calls out to Doctor SilverFox who's headed in our direction. "Doctor Silverton?"
"What?" SilverFox answers without turning around.
"When you get a moment, can I have a word with you?" he asks.
"Concerning?" the doctor snaps, still not giving McSexy the courtesy of his attention.
"Just whenever you have a moment," the nurse replies.
Without responding to McSexy, SilverFox continues to walk toward us, shaking his head in what appears to be aggravation. Before walking past the room, he glances up at Bubbles with a sneer. "What a debacle."
Bubbles gently closes the door so it's only open a crack, then turns to me in a mild panic and whispers, "What do you mean you corrupt people with your advice?"
*****McSEXY BREAK*****
Corrupting a nun? True story. You'll hear about it in the next chapter.
MUSIC: The Chainsmokers. Setting Fires. For those of you that read "Seducing Her Into a Closet" on Wattpad's Tap App--then you know the reason PamPam was in the closet was for revenge. The girl's setting fires. The question is, who is she getting revenge against?
Your vote is truly McAppreciated. Muah!
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