The following week, I was in luck. I’d agreed to a follow-up visit with Kyle at the clinic adjacent to the hospital. Dan had her set up with a small office next to his. To look my best, I’d only tried on about eight different outfits before settling on a pair of pale blue jeans and my navy and white checked sweater. I paired it with my short brown leather jacket even though I didn’t quite need one, given the moderate temperature.
“Lesbians love outerwear,” I remember Devyn saying once, over drinks at Ronnie Roo’s, and as someone whose fashion sense I very much admired, I made a point to memorize that tip. I could outerwear the hell outta this season and planned on it. With a bounce in my still tender step, I made my way to the clinic without crutches.
Tasha clapped her hands when I arrived. “Look at you. Good as new.” She stood and applauded louder, which prompted me to take a bow.
“You work at the clinic, too?” I asked, tilting my head in slight confusion.
“It’s like you forgot you live in a small town. We’re all one big family in the Dreamer’s Bay medical community,” Tasha said, waving me off. “Sometimes I’m here. Sometimes I’m there. They point and I go. It’s just my destiny.” She switched gears and craned her neck behind her. “Dr. Remington is finishing up with a patient, but she told me to get you set up in her office rather than an exam room.”
Her office? It felt halfway like I was being called in to see the principal and half like I’d been granted access behind the Kyle curtain. Both ominous and exciting. I took a seat in a rather comfortable,expensive-looking green chair with a high back across from a very large desk that faced me. “Wow. Who knew doctors snuck away to places like this.”
“They have a lot of paperwork and dictation, I’ve found.”
“I’m learning so much.”
“About what exactly?” Kyle stood in the doorway, trapping Tasha between us. She performed the signature eyebrow arch that only confirmed her soap opera status.
“The inner workings of small-town medicine culture,” I informed her.
“Oh, well, I’ve learned a lot, too.” She came into the room and deposited her laptop and stethoscope on the desk. An honest to goodness stethoscope. I refused to swoon. “First of all, people in small towns bring you food. You’d imagine maybe a few cookies, but it could be anything. I’m still working through a macaroni and cheese casserole. It has the most amazing crispy crust on top.”
“Madeline Marks was here.” She had the best mac and cheese casserole in South Carolina.
“See?” she deadpanned. “This place is so intertwined you know people by a two-sentence description of theirrecipes. That would never happen in the city.”
“Nor should it,” Tasha said.
“They can’t be stealin’ our shine.”
Kyle laughed. “I’ve never thought of you as Southern, but there was a slight twang on that sentence.”
I shrugged. “It comes out when I get protective,” I said, now performing a full-on drawl.
“You stop that,” Kyle said, eyes wide in the midst of laughter.
Tasha offered a fist bump that I accepted. “I’ll let you two get at it.”
I think we both raised our brows this time.
“To it, I meant. I’ll let you get to it.”
“Thank you, Tasha,” Kyle said, and waited patiently for her to close the door as she left. She walked around her desk and took a seat in the black leather executive chair. Her hair was down today, with a handful falling neatly across her forehead. “So, how have you been?”
“My foot?”
“Exactly. Yes. Your foot.” Her eyes were bright and inquisitive. What I’d learned about Kyle was that you could tell everything about her mood based on her very expressive eyes.
“It’s actually doing a lot better. I only even remember it’s injured when I’m on it for extended amounts of time.”
“And you’re giving yourself breaks at work? And using crutches when needed?”
“Yes, Doctor. I’ve followed all of your directions.”
“Even elevation? It can make a big difference.”
I laughed. “You’re very thorough.”
She met my gaze. The temperature shifted. “Thank you.”