Page 51 of Say You'll Be Nine


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Cooper was standing just inside the doors waiting for me. I put my hand on his lower back and guided him toward the reception counter. Thankfully, the place wasn’t very busy, so we were checked in quickly and taken straight back.

I helped him onto the exam table and helped replace his T-shirt with a gown. He was shaking and pale. “You okay?” I asked.

“Don’t like needles.”

I leaned over him and brushed the hair back from his face. “How can I distract you?”

He rolled his eyes, but the tension seemed to bleed out of his face a little. I leaned down to kiss him gently on the lips when I heard the door open behind me.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Rappaport. Which one of you got mauled by a bear?”

I turned to see a tall, slim woman with dark skin and a bright smile. She shot me a wink which managed to put me at ease that quickly.

Cooper let out a soft snort. “I make it a practice to get mauled by this bear as often as possible.”

The doc moved over to the sink in the room to wash her hands. “I can see that,” she said with a laugh. “And I hope it’s not unprofessional for me to tell you I love your vlog. My wife is a schoolteacher, but she fancies herself a construction worker around the house. Thanks to your tutorials, we’ve saved tons of money on repair people.”

I stared at her in disbelief. I’d never met anyone in real life who’d seen my videos outside of my family and the customers at Walt’s.

Cooper smiled weakly at me. “He’s not used to being recognized for his greatness. Hence the scared-rabbit routine.”

My face heated. “Sorry. Thank you. I’ve never met anyone who’s seen my stuff before. Outside of my hometown anyway.”

She sat on the rolling exam chair and wheeled closer to Cooper, nudging me out of the way so she could check out his injury. “Well, keep up the great work. I didn’t realize your cabin renovation was near here. Tell me more about it. What’s been your favorite part so far?”

As Cooper began to talk hesitantly about the project, the doctor peeled off my makeshift bandage and began cleaning his wound. I could tell she was trying to distract him from what she was doing, but he wasn’t that easily calmed. His entire body was trembling, and he kept shooting me nervous looks. I moved over to the other side of the table so I could hold his hand without being in the way, and he clutched my hand with a sweaty stranglehold.

As she began putting in the stitches, she asked questions about the camera equipment we used, the kinds of fixtures we were going to put into the bathroom, and finally how we were going to decorate it when it was all done.

“Decorate it?” Cooper asked, flicking his eyes to me. “Shit.”

“We obviously haven’t gotten that far,” I said with a laugh. “But I’m sure Cooper’s going to come up with something great.”

“Why me?” Cooper asked. He was trying his best to appear normal, but there was a light sheen of sweat on his face, and he was very deliberately not looking anywhere near the needle.

“You’ve lived in LA. You have style.” It sounded stupid when I said it out loud.

Cooper’s forehead crinkled. “You mean I’m gay so I must know how to decorate?”

Uh-oh.

I glanced at the doc. “Um, we’re both gay, so…”

Cooper’s nostrils flared. “You know what I mean.”

The doc finished up and sat back. “You should stop by Nick’s and pick up some magazines before you head home. Get some ideas that way.”

“That’s a good idea,” I said. “Who’s Nick?”

“It’s actually called the Nickerie. It’s a gift shop at the corner of Corn and Main. Little white house with a deep blue front door. You can’t miss it.”

Cooper said, “The fact there’s a street called Corn in this town makes me irrationally happy.”

Dr. Rappaport grinned at him. “Right? I’m only a Shalie by marriage. Wren grew up here and forced me to move back home with her when this job opened. I’m from Seattle. But I wouldn’t trade it for the world now. There’s something about a small mountain town that’s just… special. I don’t know. But just so you know, in addition to Corn Avenue, there’s also Blueberry Court, Pothole Place, and a neighborhood called Falls Falls. And if you’re taking Highway 53 back, you should know that Shalies call it Winding Road and it leads to Frying Pan Road which runs along the Frying Pan River.”

Cooper laughed. If I could have given the woman a tip just for that, I would have. After she said her goodbyes and wished us well, I helped Cooper back into his shirt and the zip-up cotton jacket he’d used as a blanket in the truck. “Thank god for Stallion’s insurance plan,” Cooper muttered. “Otherwise I really would have fought you on this.”

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