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“Dr. Wylons will see you in room three. It’s just right over there,” she pointed to a door off to the side with a giant 3 on it made from paw print fabric.
“Okay, thank you.” I nodded and took Dolly into the exam room. Curiously, the lights were off. I turned them on to see another person sitting in the chair, holding a cat, and both appeared to be asleep. I was so startled that I might have let out a whimper. Perhaps it was only a whimper to me, but everyone else heard a blood-curdling scream.
Patty screamed back and rushed over from her desk. I poked my head back out and asked if she meant another room. She peeked inside and let out a sigh.
“Oh, I completely forgot about them. Katie, go to room four, please.” She slid back to her desk, and if I didn’t know any better—which I didn’t—I’d swear she was wearing tap shoes. There was no sneaking around for her, was there? Her flamboyance was starting to make sense. Before I left, I’d have to ask her about her dancing. After all, I was somewhat of an expert on the subject, having taken Tap 1 when I was five, only to get stage fright during my solo recital when theyhad me tapping my right shoe to the beat of a Prince song. Hardly seemed appropriate now. That song was better suited for the aerobics class I took when I was seven.
In room four, the door was open, so I walked into the sterile atmosphere and found no surprise guests. It felt like the lighting was a little too bright, the paint was the wrong color, and the scent was very clean but mixed with wet dogs. I didn’t love it, so I couldn’t imagine Dolly felt comfortable. As if on cue, she started trembling slightly. Instead of putting her up on the table, I decided I’d wait till the doctor came in and gave instructions.
I’d always hated hospital settings. If they’d swap out all the lighting with something a little moreflattering, it’d be one thing. It was bad enough when you were on a hospital bed, wearing a very thin veil that was a poor facade for a body covering—everything was exposed, and your pores looked 10x the size. Every freckle was darker, every spot bigger, and no matter what you were in there for, the lighting always made it look worse than it was.
And it appeared the rooms here were just as confusing as at the hospital. At least this office was all on one level. The last thing you wanted to do was get the room numbers confused with the floor and wing numbers. I attempted to visit my mother once after her routine liposuction and I didn’t realize how large the building was.
“She’s in room 223E. Right down the hall, make a left and then she will be on your right.”
“Great, thank you!” I walked down the hall, realizing she didn’t tell mewhich directiondown the hall, but Iboldlyassumed she would correct me if I went the wrong way.
When I finally made it to 233B, the curtain was pulled around the bed. “Hi, I’m here! I brought donuts like you asked.” I heard a groan behind the curtain. “Are you decent?” I yanked it back before she could answer.
But she wasn’t decent, and it wasn’t my mother.And it wasn’t a “she”.Thispoor guy had quite a few thingswrong,and I decided he deserved the donuts more than mom did. He seemed very thankful when I left them on his table.
As I turned to leave, he was making deep, guttural noises and blinking his eyes rapidly. I immediately knew what he was trying to ask. "Yes, theyaregluten-free."
CHAPTER 8
THEY TAKE A DOG’S TEMPERATURE HOW?
Ichecked my watch out of habit. We sat there for about another minute when I explained to Dolly, “Doctors are notoriously late to meet their patients. This is perfectly normal.” She looked around fearfully with big eyes. I stared at the back door to the room where the doctor would come in, waiting for the door handle to turn. I checked my watch. 11:31. Relax, I thought to myself. You still hadhoursbefore your date. Er—Dolly’splaydate.
Finally, around 11:33, the doorknob started to turn, and in walked—wait a minute—this can’t be the doctor Samantha told me about. He’sway too young.He’s—my age. Things were looking up. He walked in with a clipboard and a very frazzled hairdo. “Hi... Katie?” He looked over to Dolly, then to me. “Or are YOU Dolly?” We both laughed. “Wait. YOU must be Katie. I am Dr. Wylons. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He held out his hand to me, and I awkwardly shifted Dolly so I could quickly meet his hand.
“I was expecting—”
He cut me off. “My father?” He smiled ear to ear. “As of Monday, he’s retired. So, you're stuck with me,” he winked. “You can call me Taylor.”He spoke smoothly.
Imagine my horror as I felt my cheeks redden in reaction to hisflirtation.
Dear Jesus,
Please let me leave here unscathed from this embarrassment and don’t let him notice my face is as red as a tomato.
In your name,
Amen
P.S. - If he is flirting with me, I pray that I am confident about that before returning any gestures.
Just then, Dolly barked back. It was the perfectsaveand let me take a breath for a moment. He started laughing and put his hands on his hips. I already knew from doing that at home that she would bark again, which she did.
“Well, either she wants me, or she wants someone else!” He loved Dolly’s personality, and he walked closer to us, reaching for her. “May I?” He looked into my eyes with his perfect blues.
“Of course,” I didn’t even blink when I gave him my precious cargo.
It’s like when you go through airport security, you don’t question anything. “Take off your shoes, belt, and coat.”
To which you reply,“Of course, here you go.”But it’s just the beginning.“Take off your wig, Ma’am.”
“This isn’t a wig, it’s my hair.”
