Chapter 7: Born To Be A Doctor

Pablo trembled as he swung his legs off the bed, then shuffled unsteadily around the room. "Here, Santino, your water..." Crash! Aliana had just come back from the kitchen with a cup when she saw her grandfather tottering about. She dropped the glass in her excitement, rushed over, and steadied him, terrified he might fall. Her eyes filled with tears, she looked at Santino and bowed deeply. "Santino, I can't thank you enough. I... I don't even know how to repay you." Santino helped Aliana up and said, "You already repaid me at the lake today." He shot her a playful look. Crimson bloomed in Aliana's cheeks. She glanced at him, flustered. "You are a rascal, Santino. I am not talking to you." She guided her grandfather back to the edge of the bed. Santino, watching Pablo sit, reminded him, "Mr. Pablo, your leg has recovered. Take it easy for the next couple of days. Don't do any work. Rest up, and you should be fine." "Thank you, young man. I will have Aliana give you the money," Pablo said. "That's not necessary," Santino replied. "I am Aliana's friend. This is what I should do." He winked at Aliana, only to earn an eye roll in return. "That will not do. I must pay you." Stubborn as ever, Pablo headed toward the cabinet for cash. Santino, unable to talk him out of it, said, "Mr. Pablo, how about this? Keep the money. I have not eaten lunch. Treat me to a meal, and we will call it even. How does that sound?" Pablo nodded in resignation and told Aliana to cook tasty dishes. Aliana ducked her head, shy under Santino's gaze, then darted into the kitchen to get busy. Treating Pablo had left Santino drenched in sweat.  When he heard there was a place to wash up in the backyard, he headed there at once. Out in the yard, he stripped, set his clothes aside, and rinsed off with cold water. As he wiped away the sweat, he recalled how, while treating Pablo, his internal strength seemed to surge again.  The thought crossed his mind. Maybe he had been born to be a doctor. "Santino, where are you? Dinner is ready." Aliana's cheery voice cut through his musing. "Yeah, be right there." He dried off, dressed, and headed back to the house. He did not see Pablo at the table. Aliana explained he was exhausted and had fallen asleep. She had gone out of her way to make a spread, determined to make a good impression on Santino.  "Here, Santino, have more of this. I made it just for you." He stared at his plate, piled sky-high, then gave Aliana a helpless look. "Aliana, stop. If you fatten me up, no girl will like me. I'll end up single forever." That cracked her up. She giggled. "That is exactly what I want, so you'll never find a girlfriend and turn into a dirty old man." Realizing what she had said, she flushed scarlet. Santino burst out laughing. "Then I will just tease you instead." He crooked a finger under her chin. "C'mon, lady, give me a smile." Aliana's face flushed red in an instant. She swatted his hand away and scolded, "What do you think this is, a brothel?" Santino hid a grin. "Aliana, do you know what the women in brothels actually did?" "Even a fool knows that," Aliana said, eyeing his mischievous smile. "Wrong. A brothel was a place for pleasure, but there were tiers." "There are four kinds of prostitutes. First, the top courtesans, the brothel's pride, who sold art, not their bodies. They are young, beautiful, refined, and skilled in chess, music, calligraphy, and painting." "Second, a high-end prostitute who both performed and took clients, but only VIP clients." "Third, the ordinary prostitutes for regular patrons." "Fourth is the woman posted at the door to lure customers in." Listening to Santino's words, Aliana looked dubious.  She could not believe she, a soon-to-be college student, knew less than he did.  Arms crossed, she challenged him.  "How do you know all that? You're not from ancient times." Santino chuckled. "I read it in novels." "You read that kind of novel? Perv!" Aliana covered her mouth and snickered. "Aliana." "What?" "Do you know where you'd rank in a brothel?" Aliana thought a moment, then looked smug. "I would be the top tier, the ones who only sell art." Santino nearly died laughing.  He fought to keep a straight face. "Right, the very highest. Haha..." Only then did it click that he called her a prostitute. Aliana sprang at him, dug her fingers into his armpits, and threatened, "Are you gonna stop or not?" Santino collapsed into helpless laughter, squirming. "Hahaha! I will stop! That tickles." "I'll let you off this time." Aliana withdrew her hands. Suddenly, Santino swept her up in his arms and gave her a playful swat on the butt. He could feel the bounce through his palm, and his lower part reacted before he knew it. "Oh, you tickled me? I'm gonna spank that little butt." He smacked Aliana again. Aliana's face flamed. "Santino, I won't do it again. Put me down, please."