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“What can I talk about, Holley? Is there anything that’s safe?”
“You can talk about bananas?”
“Bananas?” I ask with a laugh. “Why bananas?”
“Because they’re a nice, innocent fruit, okay?”
Also, phallic-shaped, but I choose not to mention that for fear her head might explode.
“And full of potassium,” I add mockingly, and she glares. “What’d I say wrong now?”
She sticks out her tongue at me. “Don’t make fun of me.”
“Oh, come on,” I say, and a chuckle escapes my throat. “Bananas? You knew you had it coming with that one. What am I supposed to talk about with bananas?”
“I don’t know,” she snipes. “Gwen Stefani managed a whole song on the topic.”
Man, she’s cute and almost dangerously entertaining. I’ve never met a woman like her in my life. I’ve never seen the appeal of bickering with someone before, but this is unbelievably fun.
“Ah, yes. I know the song well. Chloe went through a god-awful phase with that one.”
“It’s not her fault,” she says defensively. “It’s catchy.”
“Oh no, you too?”
“It’s a Gwen Stefani classic. It’s not like Chloe and I are alone. Maybe you’re the weird one.”
“Maybe I am,” I agree.
“Jake Brent?” the nurse calls from the door beside the reception desk. It feels like no time at all has passed, sitting here teasing Holley Fields, and it almost feels like a shame to leave her. Still, I get up from my chair and bid her adieu.
She looks at me nervously, obviously thinking I really told them I was suffering symptoms of cardiac arrest to get this appointment—a little fib I thought she’d catch on to immediately since they would have sent me to the ER instead of coming in here like it was no big deal—and I have to work hard not to laugh as I smile.
Another nurse shoves in next to mine and calls out into the room loudly, “Holley Fields?”
I bite my lip as Holley jumps to her feet next to me.
“Do you think they’re onto us?” I ask. She slugs me right in the kidney as she steps around me.
I wince and laugh at the same time, jumping into a walk that matches her pace. We walk elbow to elbow all the way to the door, her eyes flitting nervously back and forth between us the whole time. My nurse smiles at me, while hers narrows her eyes. Apparently, she finds it suspect that Holley is that twitchy.
Hoping to ease the awkwardness, I wrap an arm around Holley’s shoulder and pull her toward me, saying loudly enough for her nurse to hear, “No reason to be nervous, sweetheart.”
“What?” Holley asks, confused. I put my lips to her ear and smile as I whisper. “You look like a junkie right now, all fidgety. I’m helping you.”
“I’m only jumpy because you made me that way,” she hisses, and I laugh. Making a big show of it, I put my lips to her cheek and give her a kiss. Her eyes widen, but I take my arm away from her and say my goodbyes. “See you after, honey.”
She glares, but my nurse is apparently taken with the show. “Oh, nonsense. We’ve got rooms for you two right next to each other, don’t we, Cheryl?”
Cheryl, Holley’s nurse, finally starts to warm, agreeing, “Yeah, I think we do.”
“Great,” I say cheerfully. Holley looks absolutely miserable, but I can’t help it. It’s the good kind of miserable. The kind she’ll get over. The kind I always tell Chloe is the fun kind of embarrassment.HolleyJake Brent is literally in the room next door. They walked us down the hall together, handed me a cup, and requested that I go fill it with my urine, all while he was still within earshot.
Heaven help me, this day has not gone at all how I thought it would.
I didn’t expect to see him. I didn’t expect to see anyone. One does not go to the vagina doctor to have buddy time. One goes to the vagina doctor because they absolutely must to ensure reproductive health.
The thin paper of the gown on the bed feels like nothing against the air from the vent above my head, and the draft on all parts of my body only amplifies the acute awareness that I am seriously naked only a wall away from Jake.
And it was all his doing!
I’m pretty sure he was suffering some sort of psychotic break out there. Like, it’s good he’s in a doctor’s office at this point, but did he really have to be in the same one as me? In the room next door?
How am I going to handle the claw of death cranking open my vajayjay with him no more than a wall away? This isn’t normal. This isn’t something women should have to go through. Shouldn’t our doctor’s offices at least be keeping to their own halls?
