Page 33 of Perfect Date
“I’m so sorry, I just noticed that I’m missing one signature from you on your new patient paperwork. Can you sign this really quickly before you head back?”
“Of course,” he says and steps up to the counter.
I take the opportunity to turn toward Kimberly and when she meets my eyes, she raises her brow and mouths, “What is that about?”
“It’s him,” I whisper.
She positions herself so that he can’t see her mouth back, “Him?”
“Justin, from the bar,” I say quietly and her eyes comically grow the size of a full moon. She looks, exactly how I feel.
Quickly, turning again as Justin appears next to me having provided the requested signature, I ask, “Ready?”
“Absolutely,” he says.
I walk down the hall toward my op, and he follows. Normally I’d talk to a patient the whole way - small talk. Questions like, how are you and how is your day going, , inquire about their children, give them a compliment on their shoes or handbag – anything to improve the chances of getting them relaxed …something. With him, I can’t think of a damn thing to say. It’s as if all words just dried up inside of me.
When we get to my operatory, I step in, and gesture to the chair, “You can go ahead and have a seat here.”
He sits and when he does, I take the stool next to the dental chair. Taking his health history again, I look specifically at the other questions, like how he rates his smile, his current dental health, and if there’s anything he’d change about his smile if he could.
When I look up at him to start my normal conversation, he simply says, “Hi,” again before I can say a word.
Forgetting everything else, I simply ask, “Wh-what are you doing here?” I stammer my words.
“I thought I’d get my teeth cleaned, it’s been like… three months or so since my last cleaning.”
He has great oral hygiene, I knew it. “Three months?”
“Okay, maybe two,” he grins again.
“You’re supposed to get cleanings every six months.”
“I was feeling… inspired to get one early.”
“You know that means your insurance probably won’t cover it,” I tell him and immediately wonder what the hell is wrong with me? Why isthatwhat I say right now?
“I know; it doesn’t matter. I’m here on your new patient special,” he grins widely, clearly amused with himself.
“Oh. Okay, well that’s good,” I struggle.
Words are hard. Why are words so difficult?
“You know, I’m so used to seeing you at my place of business. Not that I mind, of course. I just figured it was time I came to yours.”
“Is that right? You know… people typically don’t just walk in and visit here, even by making an appointment because they want to hang out. In fact, lots of people tend to avoid this place if at all possible. And some people… perhaps sane people… might even call this stalking.”
I’m so grateful I finally found words. And pretty sassy ones at that!
“Are you saying you’re not sane?”
“What? No!”
“I mean, I did ask you what you did for a living and you offered up where you work. I felt it my duty to check it out.”
“Your duty?”
“No, that’s not true at all. Truth is, I thought I’d take my chances. Sure, there was a chance you’d think I was a creeper, but there was also a chance you’d find me… and this… adorable.”
