Doctor Stevens’s office. I barely made it on time. The office was state of the art. The staff seemed friendly. Doctor Stevens was a tall, willowing beauty in her late thirties, a woman who exuded a rare combination of confidence and kindness. She made me feel comfortable right away. She asked many questions, all of which I answered easily, except one.
“When was the last time you experienced intercourse?”
“Um...it’s been a while.”
“Can you be more specific?” she said.
“Oh, I don’t know, a couple of years, maybe?”
If she found my answer odd, she didn’t say so. “And everything was fine? You didn’t experience any pain, difficulties or discomfort?”
“No,” I lied. Sex with Martin had been unpleasant at best, but I wasn’t willing to talk about it.
Despite all my misgivings, I liked Doctor Stevens. She did a thorough exam, checked the birth control implant under my arm, and ran a battery of standard tests, before she declared me healthy and fit.
“Please call if you have any questions,” she said in parting. “And Lily?”
“Yes?”
She winked as she walked out of the room. “Enjoy.”
No doctor I’d ever visited had said anything like that to me before.
I was out of the doctor’s office by noon. A cold wind joined the rain, slicing through me as if my coat was made of toilet paper. The same wind savaged my little umbrella. I pitched the tattered remains in a trash can as I rushed by. I called the nursing home several times from the bus, but I only got through once and the connection was terrible.
“I’m on my way to pay you,” I shouted into the phone.
“I’m very sorry,” Mrs. Ambrose, the administrator, said right before the call fell through.
I was beside myself. I knew they couldn’t just put my mom out on the streets, but the thought that the eviction process had begun had me in tears.
I ran the last few blocks to the nursing home, oblivious to the soaking rain. Glenview was the only care I’d been able to afford for Mom. It was far from modern or luxurious. The location wasn’t ideal, the facilities were outdated and the building was old, but the staff cared, and it was much better than the alternatives. It had taken us almost a year on the waiting list to get in. I couldn’t let them kick us out.
By the time I bolted through the reception room, I was fueled by a caffeine rage and a righteous sense of social justice. Staff and visitors got out of my way as I marched down the hall. My sodden shoes squished, leaving a watery trail on the worn carpet.
“How dare you?” I said to Mrs. Ambrose, who came out of her office as soon as she heard me raising hell at the desk. “How can you evict my mom when we have no other place to go?”
“Allow me to explain,” she said, wringing her hands. “We moved your mother to—”
“You did what?” I roared like a tiger. “You can’t do that without my authorization!”
“You see, we were under the impression you’d given consent.”
“I’ve done no such thing. I left messages. I have this.” I slapped the American Express on the counter. “I want you to put my mom back in her room. Right now.”
“Oh, dear,” Mrs. Ambrose said. “I can’t do that.”
“Oh, yes, you can.” I banged my fist on the desk. “You people can’t just kick us out in the streets for no reason.”
“We didn’t—”
“Lily?” The voice came from behind me, familiar and yet totally misplaced. “What are you doing?”
I whirled around to see Josh Lane, leaning on the whangee handle of a classic British umbrella. He looked like an alien from a different world standing there at the nursing home, wearing a dark suit beneath his elegant coat, spared by the rain as if untouchable by the elements.
“Christ, Lily.” He stared alternatively at me and at the puddle of water collecting at my feet. “What the hell happened to you?”
The world unhinged about me. I couldn’t even begin to comprehend why he was at the
“When was the last time you experienced intercourse?”
“Um...it’s been a while.”
“Can you be more specific?” she said.
“Oh, I don’t know, a couple of years, maybe?”
If she found my answer odd, she didn’t say so. “And everything was fine? You didn’t experience any pain, difficulties or discomfort?”
“No,” I lied. Sex with Martin had been unpleasant at best, but I wasn’t willing to talk about it.
Despite all my misgivings, I liked Doctor Stevens. She did a thorough exam, checked the birth control implant under my arm, and ran a battery of standard tests, before she declared me healthy and fit.
“Please call if you have any questions,” she said in parting. “And Lily?”
“Yes?”
She winked as she walked out of the room. “Enjoy.”
No doctor I’d ever visited had said anything like that to me before.
I was out of the doctor’s office by noon. A cold wind joined the rain, slicing through me as if my coat was made of toilet paper. The same wind savaged my little umbrella. I pitched the tattered remains in a trash can as I rushed by. I called the nursing home several times from the bus, but I only got through once and the connection was terrible.
“I’m on my way to pay you,” I shouted into the phone.
“I’m very sorry,” Mrs. Ambrose, the administrator, said right before the call fell through.
I was beside myself. I knew they couldn’t just put my mom out on the streets, but the thought that the eviction process had begun had me in tears.
I ran the last few blocks to the nursing home, oblivious to the soaking rain. Glenview was the only care I’d been able to afford for Mom. It was far from modern or luxurious. The location wasn’t ideal, the facilities were outdated and the building was old, but the staff cared, and it was much better than the alternatives. It had taken us almost a year on the waiting list to get in. I couldn’t let them kick us out.
By the time I bolted through the reception room, I was fueled by a caffeine rage and a righteous sense of social justice. Staff and visitors got out of my way as I marched down the hall. My sodden shoes squished, leaving a watery trail on the worn carpet.
“How dare you?” I said to Mrs. Ambrose, who came out of her office as soon as she heard me raising hell at the desk. “How can you evict my mom when we have no other place to go?”
“Allow me to explain,” she said, wringing her hands. “We moved your mother to—”
“You did what?” I roared like a tiger. “You can’t do that without my authorization!”
“You see, we were under the impression you’d given consent.”
“I’ve done no such thing. I left messages. I have this.” I slapped the American Express on the counter. “I want you to put my mom back in her room. Right now.”
“Oh, dear,” Mrs. Ambrose said. “I can’t do that.”
“Oh, yes, you can.” I banged my fist on the desk. “You people can’t just kick us out in the streets for no reason.”
“We didn’t—”
“Lily?” The voice came from behind me, familiar and yet totally misplaced. “What are you doing?”
I whirled around to see Josh Lane, leaning on the whangee handle of a classic British umbrella. He looked like an alien from a different world standing there at the nursing home, wearing a dark suit beneath his elegant coat, spared by the rain as if untouchable by the elements.
“Christ, Lily.” He stared alternatively at me and at the puddle of water collecting at my feet. “What the hell happened to you?”
The world unhinged about me. I couldn’t even begin to comprehend why he was at the
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