Page 25 of Yes, Doctor
The corner of his mouth turned up as he regarded her with a heavy-lidded gaze.“You enjoy having control removed.It keeps you from worrying about whatever it is you worry about.”
“But how did you guess?”
He shrugged.“I saw the way you responded to your first...examination.”He made the wordexaminationsound thrilling and dirty all at once.
“Well...that’s what I don’t really understand,” she said, realizing she wasn’t asking anything and hoping he wouldn’t stop her.“I hate exams.I hate doctors.I don’t think I like having control removed at all.I think perhaps it’s justyou.”
“That wasn’t a question, but I’ll let it slide.And I’m flattered you think it’s me, but consider this theory of mine.Perhaps you’ve always craved, at least in a sexual context, having someone take charge.But in a non-sexual context, being submissive is considered weak and so you resist it with all your might.”
She furrowed her brow, considering.
“I mean, what is it you hate about doctors?The fact that they claim some sort of authority over you and your body?”
She blinked.“I guess so.”
He cocked his head.“The very thing that flips your switch.”
For some reason, the revelation made her want to cry, shaking her like a hidden truth dramatically revealed.
He reached his hand across the table and covered hers, as if he understood the magnitude of her reaction, which she could hardly comprehend herself.“Why did you become a CNA if you hate doctors so much?You may speak,” he added with a wink.
“The French lit degree didn’t land me a job as quickly as I thought it would,” she said with a sardonic grin.
“French literature,” he mused, without thehow could you be so stupid?tone people usually used when she told them.“I bet that was interesting.”
She shrugged.“I liked it.”
Even more than French lit, she liked the way he looked at her, as if she were the most fascinating creature on Earth.“Other questions?”he asked after a moment of silence.
She gathered her thoughts.“What about you?Do you like having authority over people’s bodies?Is that why you became a doctor?”
He smiled.“The short answer is yes.”
“And the long answer?”
He drew a breath.“A lot of reasons.I like to be the hero.I have a fierce need to understand how everything in the body works.And I love babies—truthfully,” he said when she raised her eyebrows.“It may seem paradoxical, but even as someone who has distilled the process into science and procedure, I am still reverent about the miracle of every birth, and every little soul that comes into life.”
She waited, sensing there was more.
He looked as if he were deciding whether to say it all or leave it at that.“My father dropped dead at the dinner table when I was sixteen,”
She stilled, meeting the pain in his eyes with steady presence.
“I couldn’t be a hero to him, or to my mother, who suffered for years after his death.I felt so helpless, and I resolved never to be that way again.Going to medical school was the antidote.Mastering the human body, in a sense.”
Her eyes smarted, but this time for him.“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
The waitress interrupted, bringing their beers and he started to pull his hand away, but she caught it, giving it a squeeze.
He gave her a faint smile.
“So did it work?”she asked when the waitress had left.
“No,” he answered frankly, his expression turning sober.“The first time I lost a baby during delivery I had to come to grips with the fact that control is just an illusion.”He lifted his shoulders.“Maybe this,” he said moving his finger back and forth between the two of them, “is a healthier expression of that need.”
She sat up straighter, liking the idea of being good for him.
The waitress brought their food.“You have permission to speak freely,” he said with a wink.
