A Touch Of Love. Sheryl Lister

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.