Page 71 of Between the Lines

Cece checked the clock on the wall for the third time in under a minute, then deliberately looked away from it.

Early mornings in a medical office always felt the same. They were too bright, too quiet, and smelled too much of antiseptic. No matter how nice the building tried to be, there was no disguising that it wasn’t exactly a fun place to be.

This one was no different. Pale walls. Beachy art meant to distract, but the scenes were so generic they failed. Chairs that were comfortable enough to sit in, as long as you weren’t in them too long. It was impossible to forget where she was.

And what she was here for.

Joe sat beside her, one knee angled toward hers, his arm resting along the back of the chair so it barely touched her shoulders. He hadn’t said much since they’d checked in, which she appreciated. He had a good instinct for when she needed conversation and when she didn’t.

There was one other couple in the waiting room, sitting against the far wall. The woman was on her phone, the man was leaning back, eyes closed.

“This is the part I hate,” Cece said quietly, mostly to break the silence.

“The waiting?” he asked.

She nodded. “Once they actually start doing something, I’m fine. It’s the sitting here imagining all the possibilities that gets to me.”

Joe glanced at the door she’d be going through, then back at her. “If it helps, you’re not doing all that imagining alone.”

She smiled at that, small but genuine. “It does help.”

She had dressed with comfort in mind this morning. Also warmth. These places were always so cold. She’d picked her softest jeans and a loose top she could pull to the side easily when they needed access to her neck, although they’d probably make her put a gown on anyway. Flats instead of sandals. Nothing that would bother her. She’d pulled her hair back so it wouldn’t be in the way. She’d told herself that being prepared was the best thing she could do.

But could you ever really prepare for a thing like this?

Her name was called, and she felt the familiar shiver of nerves run through her. Joe stood at the same time she did, giving her a gentle smile, as if this were the most natural thing in the world and nothing to be worried about.

“I’ll be right here,” he said, squeezing her hand once before the nurse led her back.

“Thanks,” she whispered, her throat suddenly dry.

The procedure room was cooler than the waiting area. After Cece traded her top for a gown, the nurse explained what would happen, even though Cece already knew. There would be a needle. And it would hurt, but it was nothing she hadn’t been through before. She could do this. It helped that she’d read everything they’d given her. Information was her armor.

Still, as she lay back and felt the paper crinkle beneath her, she focused on her breathing the way she’d learned years ago. Slow in through her nose, steady out through her mouth.

The procedure definitely wasn’t painless, but it wasn’t unbearable. The discomfort was layered with pressure. She had a strange awareness of something being done to her that she couldn’t control.

She kept her eyes fixed on a spot on the ceiling and thought about mundane things to take her mind off what was happening. What she might make for dinner, what Peanut was doing, when she would release the first episode of her podcast.

When it was over, relief washed through her, followed by exhaustion she hadn’t expected.

Joe was there when they brought her back out, a small bandage on her neck. He got to his feet immediately, concern written plainly across his face.

“All done?” he asked.

“All done,” she said. Her voice sounded steadier than she felt. “I survived.”

He smiled, but his eyes stayed serious. “Anything else you need to do?”

“No. I’m ready to go home.”

With a nod, he was moving. He got the door for her. He’d driven, because she wasn’t sure she’d be able to afterwards.

Outside, the morning sun felt warmer than it had earlier, like the day had moved on while she wasn’t paying attention.

Joe opened the car door for her, waited until she was settled, then came around and got behind the wheel. He leaned in slightly. “Want to go straight home? Or do you want to stop for coffee and pretend this was just a regular errand?”

Cece thought about it. Then she said, “Coffee. Definitely coffee.”