Page 3 of Perfect Date
“Ah, I’m sure,” I nod not at all surprised. It’s actually the reason I chose to meet Chad for dinner and drinks at Greedy Goose - it’s in the next town over, Rebel River. I wanted to have a chance at some privacy.
When my uncle told me all about Mason Creek, and the many reasons he thought I’d love it, he didn’t tell me it was such a gossipy town. That the most seemingly insignificant things could create news for a few days. I suppose I should have known given the town’s small size, but instead I got an example at my own expense whenIbecame town news.
When I went to the local bank to open an account, the personal banker Tony and I hit it off, chatting easily, and he gave me his phone number. When I went to work the next day, everyone knew about the encounter without me saying a word. Apparently, Candy, the other personal banker that works with Tony told a woman named Elaine, who is the cousin of one of the business team members where I work.
Anyway, I got an earful about how Tony was apparently a huge player, and found out much more about him, including comments about the size of his anatomy, than I ever wanted to know. Apparently, he’s famous for sending women pictures of said private part. Uh, no thank you. While the gossip is annoying, maybe in that case it served me well.
“I don’t think I ever asked what brought you here?”
Relieved he begins an easy conversation, I smile. “Well, it was a great opportunity. As you know, I’m a dental hygienist,” he smiles and nods and I swear his smile is extra wide as if to show off his teeth. Which appear nice enough. “I worked at the local dental office in my hometown in Lolo, Montana. It was great, but I still lived with my mom while saving money and working to pay off my school loans. My uncle, who’s one of the dentists at Mason Creek Dental, told me about a position that became available at his office. He asked me if I’d be interested - really encouraged me to come and work for him. At first, I started to laugh it off and said no. I didn’t want to leave my mom alone-”
He interrupts, “Alone? She isn’t married to your dad?”
“It’s always been just me and my mom,” is the only answer I give him. “So, at first I blew it off, but then she helped me see it would actually be a great opportunity.”
“She did?”
“Yes. As hard as it would be for both of us for me to move away, she said she raised me to be independent. Saving money and living at home was nice, but she was right, I was using her as a reason to stay safe, I guess. It was time to take a chance and I wouldn’t exactly be fully alone since I’d have my uncle and besides, it could be a long time before another chance to work for my uncle would come around, so I decided to make the move.”
“I’m sure your mom is grateful for that - knowing your uncle is here if you need anything.”
“Yes, very. Plus, she’s only a short drive away.”
“True. So, why dental hygiene?”
“When I was a kid, I visited my uncle’s office once when me and my mom came to visit. I hung out with him for the day and heard him talking with a patient, a woman crying ashamed of how bad her teeth looked and how bad her oral hygiene had gotten. But my uncle was so kind and supportive educating her on how she could help herself and what he could do to help her going forward. I guess it left an impression on me.”
“And you never changed your mind?”
I shrug, “The older I got, the decision just became clearer. I not only wanted to help people and make a difference in their health and life, but I saw it as a career that would allow me to educate people as well as connect with them, while providing a good salary, and allowing me to have a decent schedule, and a strong work/life balance. It seemed perfect and so far, so good. I’ve not been disappointed.”
“Yeah, but teeth? Isn’t it kind ofgross?”
He shudders. Actually shudders.
Strike two.
“Not to me. I love it. It’s hard work, and at times monotonous, but then I’ll have a patient that’s so appreciative and thankful for the care they receive… anyway, it’s what I’m supposed to do.”
“Well good for you.”
“What made you want to work at the courthouse? You’re a clerk, right? Help prepare files for the daily docket and attend and record court sessions and other things? That must be interesting I would guess.” I proudly recalled our conversations and my online research.
“Yes, but I don’t want to do that forever. It’s just an entry point for me. I plan on going to law school.”
“Plan on it?”
“Yeah, at some point. I’m sure that I’ll pass my LSAT the next time.”
“Next time?” I take a long gulp of my margarita, brows raised at that personal revelation. Not sure I would confess such a thing to someone I just met. But quickly chastise myself for such thinking and inwardly applaud his openness.
“Yeah, it’s likereallyhard.”
“How many times have you taken it?”
“Just four. About to be five.”
“Five? You’ve taken it that many times? I mean they allow someone to take it repeatedly, that many times?”
