Page 30 of The Devil You Know
“Why not?” I pressed him.
“Because we love each other too much.” He touched my face. “And you’re my best friend.”
At the time, I agreed with him a hundred percent. There were so many people out there who got married for the wrong reasons, but we didn’t. We loved each other very much. And he was right—we had become each other’s best friends. I wanted to be with him more than anyone else in the world, and I couldn’t imagine lifewithout him. I couldn’t conceive of a situation in which we would ever want to get divorced.
Now…
Sometimes I wonder if we’re just one cheese paper away from it all being over.
Chapter 10
It’s ten past nine and I was supposed to see my first patient ten minutes ago.
It’s just one of those mornings where everything has conspired against me. Leah decided she would not allow herself to get dressed this morning. I’m not sure how she decided this—she just woke up and made the determination that today would be “a home day.” She explained to me, “It’s just too cold.”
Well, itiscold. But too damn bad.
I ended up having to wake up a very cranky Ben, who agreed to get her ready for preschool with only a minimal amount of whining. I didn’t even complain about the fact that the shirt he dressed her in was about five sizes too big—you could almost see a hint of nipple. I swear to God, if there is one piece of clothing in her entire drawer that doesn’t fit her, Ben will find it and dress her in it. But if I point out to him that he dressed her in something ridiculous, he’ll just say, “If it doesn’t fit her, why is it inher drawer?” Admittedly, I don’t have a good answer for that, so I keep my mouth shut.
Then when we actually got to the daycare, Leah clung to my leg to keep me from leaving. She actually wrapped her little arms and her little legs around my calf and would not let go. Mila had to wrench her free, all the while shaking her head at me. She didn’t even know about the nipple yet.
Then as I drove to the VA, I got stuck at absolutely every red light. I ended up trailing behind two separate school buses. And at one point, I got trapped behind a funeral procession.
So by the time I park my car and get into the lobby, I’m very late. I used to pride myself on being very reliable and prompt, but that’s all gone out the window since Leah came into the picture. Right now, it’s a bit of a miracle when I’m on time.
As I race through the lobby, I see that one thing is on my side: the elevator is already here and waiting for me. I don’t even mind the fact that it’s George’s elevator. I just need to get my butt upstairs. I jump into the elevator and before I can stop myself, I slam my hand into the button for “six.”
George stares at me in utter shock and horror, as do the other two people already in the elevator. I feel shocked and horrified myself. But really—it was a natural thing to do. I’ve lived in buildings with elevators for most of mylife, and I’ve never been in a situation where I had to say, “six please,” instead of just pressing the button myself. I feel like I’m in Crazyland here!
“I’msosorry,” I whisper. I couldn’t feel more mortified if I had soiled myself.
George glares at me with such venom that I’m really glad no weapons are allowed in the VA hospital. “Well,” he snaps at me, “now we all have to go to the sixth floorfirst.”
The other two people in the elevator groan.
“I’m really sorry,” I say to them. I can’t tell if they’re angry at me or embarrassed for me. Maybe a little of both.
Well, at least this gets me to my floor really quickly.
I dismount the elevator, still profusely apologizing to everyone inside. I don’t know why all the VA staff hates me. Am I really so unlikable? Maybe I am. After all, even my own husband doesn’t seem to like me very much.
As I walk into Primary Care C, it suddenly occurs to me that I forgot my stethoscope in the car. How did I forget my stethoscope? It seems impossible. I mean, I’m a PCP. Forgetting my stethoscope would be like walking out the door with no shirt on.
Well, I need a stethoscope.
Dr. Kirschstein catches me sneaking in late. He strides over to me, his hands in the pocket of his white coat. “You’re late for your tour of duty, Dr. McGill,” he informs me in a stern voice.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble. “Leah was being difficult.”
He regards me thoughtfully. I’m worried he’s going to ask me to drop and give him twenty, but instead he says, “I never brought you that book of my wife’s on childrearing. I’ll have that for you this week.”
At this point, I think I desperately need it.
With Dr. Kirschstein satisfied, I head to the waiting room, where Barbara is reading a paperback. She doesn’t even look up when I enter the room. “You’re late.”
I nod. “There was… a family emergency.”
That sounds vague enough. Not that I need to explain myself to Barbara, but I guess I do.
