it.”
“Are you a current patient?” she asked, winding a section of highlighted hair around her pen. Her eyebrows had been plucked into dramatic arches that made her look like a cartoon villain.
“Former patient, I guess,” I said. “I’ve been gone for a while and just came back. Arrowood. Arden.”
She tugged the pen out of her hair, her eyes widening.
“Arrowood?”
I nodded. It occurred to me that while people might recognize my name, hardly anyone would recognize my face. Certainly not the younger generation, who hadn’t known any living Arrowoods.
The receptionist tapped on her keyboard, eyes flicking from the screen to me and back as she typed. “You’re not in the new system. You’ll have to fill out these forms. I’ll check and see if we have time to squeeze you in today.”
She handed me a clipboard and stared after me as I sat down to fill out the papers. A woman sat across from me reading an issue of
Good Housekeeping
while her little boy, maybe five years old, banged a Matchbox car against the side of Dr. Ferris’s aquarium
.
“Fishy, fishy, fishy!” he screamed. “Stop that,” the woman mumbled, not looking up from her magazine. The boy dropped the toy car and pounded the aquarium with his fists.
It didn’t take long to complete the forms, because I didn’t have answers for most of the questions. Insurance provider? None. Date of last cleaning? No idea. I returned the clipboard to the desk and flipped through the magazines. Nothing left but
Field & Stream
and
Golf Digest.
I walked back toward my seat, avoiding the little boy, who had thrown himself onto the floor and was swishing his arms and legs back and forth like he was making snow angels on the carpet.
“Arden?”
I turned around, and Ben Ferris stood in front of me, wearing a white lab coat. Ben. My first and best friend. He was taller than I remembered him being when we had said goodbye the last time, when he barely had to lean down to kiss me. I could tell by the way he was looking at me that he hadn’t forgotten anything, and an uncomfortable buzzing sensation spread from my heart out through my limbs, like a swarm of frantic insects. Ben’s wistful expression was quickly broken by a grin, and I took a halting step toward him, not sure of the appropriate greeting for someone I’d once been so close to but hadn’t seen in years.
Ben didn’t hesitate, though. He wrapped his arms around me. “I heard you were coming back. I can’t believe you’re here.”
I could feel myself warming in his embrace, the heat and humidity of those long-ago summers seeping into the air-conditioned office, and I hastily stepped back, letting my arms fall to my sides.
“I can’t believe you’re a dentist.” He used to say that he would never work with his dad, no matter how much his parents pressured him. He had wanted to be an artist. I had wanted to be a history teacher.
Ben laughed. “Yeah, well, it’s a job. Come on back, I’ll take a look at your tooth.”
“Is your dad not here?” I asked.
“He’s out playing golf,” Ben said. “He probably spends half his time on the course, now that he’s got me here.” He gave me an amused smile. “Don’t worry, I promise I’m qualified. I’ve pulled tons of teeth. Some human ones, even.”
“Ha-ha,” I said. He still had the same sense of humor. I was glad he was making this easy for me, not dredging up the past, not asking why I had shut him out.
I got situated in an exam chair and Ben leaned over me, shining a light into my mouth. I could smell his aftershave, woodsy and subtle, unlike the Axe body spray he used to coat himself with. I wondered if his mom had picked it out for him. Or a girlfriend. I glanced furtively at his left hand and was relieved not to see a wedding ring, though I chided myself for checking. I had no claim on him anymore.
He poked around my mouth with a metal pick, his gloved fingers gliding over my gums. “You grind your teeth a
“Are you a current patient?” she asked, winding a section of highlighted hair around her pen. Her eyebrows had been plucked into dramatic arches that made her look like a cartoon villain.
“Former patient, I guess,” I said. “I’ve been gone for a while and just came back. Arrowood. Arden.”
She tugged the pen out of her hair, her eyes widening.
“Arrowood?”
I nodded. It occurred to me that while people might recognize my name, hardly anyone would recognize my face. Certainly not the younger generation, who hadn’t known any living Arrowoods.
The receptionist tapped on her keyboard, eyes flicking from the screen to me and back as she typed. “You’re not in the new system. You’ll have to fill out these forms. I’ll check and see if we have time to squeeze you in today.”
She handed me a clipboard and stared after me as I sat down to fill out the papers. A woman sat across from me reading an issue of
Good Housekeeping
while her little boy, maybe five years old, banged a Matchbox car against the side of Dr. Ferris’s aquarium
.
“Fishy, fishy, fishy!” he screamed. “Stop that,” the woman mumbled, not looking up from her magazine. The boy dropped the toy car and pounded the aquarium with his fists.
It didn’t take long to complete the forms, because I didn’t have answers for most of the questions. Insurance provider? None. Date of last cleaning? No idea. I returned the clipboard to the desk and flipped through the magazines. Nothing left but
Field & Stream
and
Golf Digest.
I walked back toward my seat, avoiding the little boy, who had thrown himself onto the floor and was swishing his arms and legs back and forth like he was making snow angels on the carpet.
“Arden?”
I turned around, and Ben Ferris stood in front of me, wearing a white lab coat. Ben. My first and best friend. He was taller than I remembered him being when we had said goodbye the last time, when he barely had to lean down to kiss me. I could tell by the way he was looking at me that he hadn’t forgotten anything, and an uncomfortable buzzing sensation spread from my heart out through my limbs, like a swarm of frantic insects. Ben’s wistful expression was quickly broken by a grin, and I took a halting step toward him, not sure of the appropriate greeting for someone I’d once been so close to but hadn’t seen in years.
Ben didn’t hesitate, though. He wrapped his arms around me. “I heard you were coming back. I can’t believe you’re here.”
I could feel myself warming in his embrace, the heat and humidity of those long-ago summers seeping into the air-conditioned office, and I hastily stepped back, letting my arms fall to my sides.
“I can’t believe you’re a dentist.” He used to say that he would never work with his dad, no matter how much his parents pressured him. He had wanted to be an artist. I had wanted to be a history teacher.
Ben laughed. “Yeah, well, it’s a job. Come on back, I’ll take a look at your tooth.”
“Is your dad not here?” I asked.
“He’s out playing golf,” Ben said. “He probably spends half his time on the course, now that he’s got me here.” He gave me an amused smile. “Don’t worry, I promise I’m qualified. I’ve pulled tons of teeth. Some human ones, even.”
“Ha-ha,” I said. He still had the same sense of humor. I was glad he was making this easy for me, not dredging up the past, not asking why I had shut him out.
I got situated in an exam chair and Ben leaned over me, shining a light into my mouth. I could smell his aftershave, woodsy and subtle, unlike the Axe body spray he used to coat himself with. I wondered if his mom had picked it out for him. Or a girlfriend. I glanced furtively at his left hand and was relieved not to see a wedding ring, though I chided myself for checking. I had no claim on him anymore.
He poked around my mouth with a metal pick, his gloved fingers gliding over my gums. “You grind your teeth a
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