and she’d have to come back later.
The new receptionist was a guy. A handy way to thwart any more inappropriateness while the divorce remained unsettled. “Hi,” Lucy said. “I have a ten o’clock appointment.”
“Make yourself comfortable. Dr. Bauman will be right with you.”
She sat in one of the wing-back chairs that were impossible to make oneself comfortable in, texting Reyna, until Dr. Bauman came out of the inner office, smiling. “Lucy, you get more beautiful every time I see you.”
He’d been saying it to her for ever, even during her über-awkward years when it had been an obvious lie. Before it always felt like friendly dad-talk. Now she couldn’t help but cringe away from his hug the best she could without being rude. “Thanks,” she said.
“Take a seat, honey.” He steered her by the shoulders into his office.
What proceeded was the same kind of check-up he always did, but the way he put his fingers on her lips and the smell of his latex gloves, the way his leg brushed against hers slightly when he had to reach for her chart, the little
mmm-hmm
noises he made while inspecting her mouth…suddenly everything formerly innocent seemed tainted by what she knew. The former receptionist. Soon-Yi Pak’s mom. There were others.
The second he took his hand off her face, she turned away from him, a reflex. Not subtle. She pretended to study the poster of straight teeth, a dozen tiled pictures of lips drawn back from red gums.
Dr. Bauman rolled his chair to his desk, snapped off his gloves, and made some notes in her file. “Any headaches or any other kind of pain? Especially when you wake up in the morning?”
“No.”
“Everything else going okay?”
“Yes.”
“How’s Gus?”
“Fine.” She ran her hands over the seam at the knee of her jeans.
She thought he’d say something about her teeth, the kind of adjustment he would make to the retainer, increasing or decreasing the time she wore it.
“Hey. You threw up in my Jag when you were nine. I helped you put on a funeral for your guinea pig. We came to your concerts.” He sounded hurt and tired. “This is me, Lucy.”
She made herself look at him, and nodded.
“Things are always more complicated than you think,” he continued. “You’ll find out when you’re older.”
She hoped not.
“All right. Give me five minutes here, and then we’re done till next time.” He smiled a sad version of his old, winning smile. “I assume you’re going up to see Rey. Tell her I said hi.”
Reyna had divided the contents of her closet into several piles. She pointed to one of the smaller ones. “That’s stuff for you to try on. Mostly tops, obviously, since your legs are miles longer than mine. There are a couple of skirts, though, that might not be indecent.”
“Thanks.”
Lucy sat on the edge of the bed awhile, debating whether or not to pass on Dr. Bauman’s greeting. Reyna’s mood seemed a little…volatile. She whipped a sparkly cocktail dress off a hanger and held it up. “My dad bought me this for the museum fundraiser. Kinda slutty, don’t you think?”
“It looks like the kind of thing people wear to that.”
She threw the dress on a nearby pile. “Discard.”
Lucy reached down to pick it up. It was so pretty, a kind of ruby red that looked absolutely gorgeous with Reyna’s Snow White colouring. “Maybe you should save this. Put in a ‘deal with later’ pile?”
Reyna stood still for a second to stare at the dress, then shook her head and went back into the closet, jerking hangers across the rod. “I’m sorry, but I just hate him right now. And everything that reminds me of him.” She glanced over her shoulder at Lucy. “Clothes. Try them on, please. It will cheer me up.”
Some of Reyna’s favourite tops were in the pile; for example, the Burberry polo with the checked sleeves she’d just gotten a month ago. Lucy put it on to make her happy; a tight squeeze across the chest. Then she noticed Reyna
The new receptionist was a guy. A handy way to thwart any more inappropriateness while the divorce remained unsettled. “Hi,” Lucy said. “I have a ten o’clock appointment.”
“Make yourself comfortable. Dr. Bauman will be right with you.”
She sat in one of the wing-back chairs that were impossible to make oneself comfortable in, texting Reyna, until Dr. Bauman came out of the inner office, smiling. “Lucy, you get more beautiful every time I see you.”
He’d been saying it to her for ever, even during her über-awkward years when it had been an obvious lie. Before it always felt like friendly dad-talk. Now she couldn’t help but cringe away from his hug the best she could without being rude. “Thanks,” she said.
“Take a seat, honey.” He steered her by the shoulders into his office.
What proceeded was the same kind of check-up he always did, but the way he put his fingers on her lips and the smell of his latex gloves, the way his leg brushed against hers slightly when he had to reach for her chart, the little
mmm-hmm
noises he made while inspecting her mouth…suddenly everything formerly innocent seemed tainted by what she knew. The former receptionist. Soon-Yi Pak’s mom. There were others.
The second he took his hand off her face, she turned away from him, a reflex. Not subtle. She pretended to study the poster of straight teeth, a dozen tiled pictures of lips drawn back from red gums.
Dr. Bauman rolled his chair to his desk, snapped off his gloves, and made some notes in her file. “Any headaches or any other kind of pain? Especially when you wake up in the morning?”
“No.”
“Everything else going okay?”
“Yes.”
“How’s Gus?”
“Fine.” She ran her hands over the seam at the knee of her jeans.
She thought he’d say something about her teeth, the kind of adjustment he would make to the retainer, increasing or decreasing the time she wore it.
“Hey. You threw up in my Jag when you were nine. I helped you put on a funeral for your guinea pig. We came to your concerts.” He sounded hurt and tired. “This is me, Lucy.”
She made herself look at him, and nodded.
“Things are always more complicated than you think,” he continued. “You’ll find out when you’re older.”
She hoped not.
“All right. Give me five minutes here, and then we’re done till next time.” He smiled a sad version of his old, winning smile. “I assume you’re going up to see Rey. Tell her I said hi.”
Reyna had divided the contents of her closet into several piles. She pointed to one of the smaller ones. “That’s stuff for you to try on. Mostly tops, obviously, since your legs are miles longer than mine. There are a couple of skirts, though, that might not be indecent.”
“Thanks.”
Lucy sat on the edge of the bed awhile, debating whether or not to pass on Dr. Bauman’s greeting. Reyna’s mood seemed a little…volatile. She whipped a sparkly cocktail dress off a hanger and held it up. “My dad bought me this for the museum fundraiser. Kinda slutty, don’t you think?”
“It looks like the kind of thing people wear to that.”
She threw the dress on a nearby pile. “Discard.”
Lucy reached down to pick it up. It was so pretty, a kind of ruby red that looked absolutely gorgeous with Reyna’s Snow White colouring. “Maybe you should save this. Put in a ‘deal with later’ pile?”
Reyna stood still for a second to stare at the dress, then shook her head and went back into the closet, jerking hangers across the rod. “I’m sorry, but I just hate him right now. And everything that reminds me of him.” She glanced over her shoulder at Lucy. “Clothes. Try them on, please. It will cheer me up.”
Some of Reyna’s favourite tops were in the pile; for example, the Burberry polo with the checked sleeves she’d just gotten a month ago. Lucy put it on to make her happy; a tight squeeze across the chest. Then she noticed Reyna
Similar Books
