Page 13 of The Doctors Will See You Now

“Here,” I said, putting my briefcase up on the counter to dig around in it. “This is a picture from Saturday.”

“Oh! How cute!” Marlene mooned. “I used to play naked in the sprinkler all the time when I was little too.”

I tried not to picture it—failed. Except, I wasn’t picturing Marlene as a toddler at all. Oh God.

I forced my thoughts back to my niece. “Yeah. Truth is, you’ll be hard pressed to get a picture of Julie where she isn’t naked. Kline and Gigi haven’t been able to keep clothes on her for anything. Apparently, she even takes her diapers off during her naps.”

Melissa and Beth were quieter than normal. In fact, I could usually barely get a word in edgewise for all their chatting, but they still smiled and peeked at the picture of Julia as if interested, so I let any wondering about why fall away.

As soon as they handed the picture back, I made my way down the hall toward my office.

Okay. That hadn’t gone so badly.

My step got a little lighter, and for the first time in days, the pressure behind my eyes started to ease.

Maybe work wouldn’t be so awful. The show was terrible, but maybe people really weren’t watching, or it didn’t look as bad to those who weren’t seeing themselves look like an idiot. I wasn’t completely sure, but I wasn’t going to do something stupid like look a gift horse in the mouth either.

I didn’t want to hate my job. If you’d asked me what my specialty would be back at the beginning of medical school, I don’t know what I would have told you, but I do know it wouldn’t have had anything to do with vaginas that wasn’t recreational.

Still, I felt like it fit, like I had something to contribute—like life wasn’t the kind of thing you could live on a plan for a reason.

I felt like I had a way of understanding women, and, as much as I grumbled about her, I probably had my mother to thank for that. She was always open and honest about menstruation and sexuality in a way that made me comfortable enough to see the people behind the reproductive system.

I cared about these women—my patients.

And I didn’t want some trumped-up version of a documentary about me and everything I tried to achieve to ruin what I was actually trying to do—to negate the difference I was trying to make.

“Shit,” I muttered to myself. I’d forgotten my mug up in the break room, which was just behind the front desk. I’d been so focused on escaping the impending shitstorm and predicting the consequences, I hadn’t thought to grab it on my way. And I needed coffee.

Dropping my briefcase and the picture on top of my desk, I headed straight back down the hall toward the front.

Melissa’s and Beth’s once-again exuberant voices caught my attention just as I moved to step through the door to the break room.

“I know!” Beth agreed to something enthusiastically.

For some insane reason, one I immediately wished I’d ignored, I stopped to listen to their conversation.

“With how good of a flirt he is, I’m just glad he’s never tried it on me. I’d have my panties down and my legs open so fast—”

Involuntarily, my body moved, back out the door and around the corner to the space just behind their chairs. I moved almost silently, and truthfully, I didn’t even really feel like I was in control of my own body. It was as if my gut instinct engaged at the barest hint that they were talking about me.

“Oh my God. Speaking of opening your legs… Did you hear what he said about the vagina being a beacon of—”

I cleared my throat in shock and recognition—now knowing they were talking about me—and Beth almost fell out of her chair trying to get Melissa’s attention and make her stop talking. “Shh!”

Melissa’s face flushed and dropped to ease her focus on the carpet as she addressed me. “Oh. Hey, Dr. Cummings.”

Fucking great. I guess the office wasn’t going to be a safe place after all.

“Hi again, ladies. Just forgot my coffee cup. I hope you’re having a lovely day.” My teeth were gritted, but fuck me, it sure as hell wouldn’t help to curse them out. Mentally, sure, but not professionally. I had to work with these people day in and day out. As much as I’d have liked to be, I wasn’t made of money.

They tittered a little, surprised not only by my presence but also the casual and kind way I addressed them, and the teasing, knowing smiles slipped from their faces and melted into embarrassment.

“Um, you too, Dr. Cummings,” Melissa muttered. Beth, on the other hand, had once again gone mute.

“I’ll be ready for the first patient in about ten minutes or so.”

Melissa nodded.