The Crossover

Mom shouts

Get a checkup. Hypertension is genetic.

I’m fine, stop high-posting me, baby, Dad whispers.

Don’t play me, Charles—this isn’t a basketball game.

I don’t need a doctor, I’m fine.

Your father didn’t “need” a doctor either.

He was alive when he went into the hospital.

So now you’re afraid of hospitals?

Nobody’s afraid. I’m fine. It’s not that serious.

Fainting is a joke, is it?

I saw you, baby, and I got a little excited. Come kiss me.

Don’t do that . . .

Baby, it’s nothing. I just got a little dizzy.

You love me?

Like summer loves short nights.

Get a checkup, then.

Only cure I need is you.

I’m serious about this, Chuck.

Only doctor I need is Dr. Crystal Bell. Now come here . . .

And then there is silence, so I put the pillow over my head

because when they stop talking,

I know what that means.

Uggghh!