murmuring at a golf tournament, he told her what he was doing at each step. “I’m smoothing these little rough pieces of enamel your steering wheel left behind . . . Now, where is that three-thirty bur?” he muttered to himself. Metal instruments clinked as he rooted around. The drill spun out its zeeeeee! sound off and on like a tiny siren as he buffed the newly composed fill. “This polishing paste,” he said. “It’s made with crushed diamonds. You’ve got diamonds in your mouth right now.” His gaze flicked up to her eyes. “Go tell that to those goons at the party store.” When he bent toward her, she could smell peppermint as he exhaled, with a faint undercurrent of aftershave.
“Now I take an impression of the tooth to create the veneer.” When he was done, he handed her the mirror. She couldn’t see very clearly without her reading glasses, but it seemed fine. “I can’t even tell!” she said truthfully.
“Yeah.” He grinned as he yanked at his latex gloves and tossed them in the trash. “I’m pretty good with a chip, if I do say.” He gave her follow-up instructions. “No nail biting. And chew hard stuff with your back teeth.”
“Thanks for taking me so quickly,” said Dana.
“Don’t thank me.” He ducked into his office for a moment, then walked her out to the waiting room. “Thank my receptionist and hygienist for being out and all those patients for leaving. Sometimes a good thing comes when everything else falls apart.”
He handed her a sheet of paper with some names and phone numbers. “Association for the Prevention of Eating Disorders” blared out at her from the list. “I’m sure you’re already working on it,” he said, “but just in case you needed some further resources.” Then he reached for the ringing phone. “Cotters Rock Dental,” he said into the receiver. “Speaking . . .” He rolled his eyes at her. “Yes, I’m a regular one-man band today . . .”
CHAPTER 11
T HE COLLISION DEDUCTIBLE ON THE CAR WAS A thousand dollars. Dana called the insurance agency to confirm that there’d been a mistake. The agent, a woman with a practiced customer-relations brand of charm, told her, “We’ll get to the bottom of this in a jiff!”
We’ll get to the bottom of this, and we’ll find the deductible is only two hundred fifty dollars, Dana told herself. She’d set up the coverage herself and would never have agreed to such a large deductible. Kenneth was the one who thought bad things would never happen. “Insurance companies make their millions off people like you,” he’d often told Dana.
People like me, she brooded as she waited on hold. People who sideswipe light poles and chip teeth and act like a lunatic in public . . . we need insurance.
The breezy voice of the agent came back on the line. “Apparently Mr. Stellgarten increased the deductible about a year ago. He preferred a lower premium.”
“ He preferred?” said Dana. “But it’s my car !”
“He’s listed as the primary policyholder,” said the agent, downshifting to a friendly-but-firm tone. “If he instructs me to change the coverage, I’m bound by law to make that adjustment. You might want to discuss this with him.” Dana called several repair shops instead. The lowest estimate for the replacement mirror was almost five hundred dollars.
The front door opened, and Morgan came into the kitchen, studying the package of paper plates Dana had left in the mudroom. “Did they have any that weren’t so, like, happy ?” she said.
Dana sighed, feeling certain that a return trip to Party On! was in her future. “Happy-face plates, honey. That’s what you asked for. They’re happy.”
Morgan shrugged. “Okay.”
“Okay? You like them?”
“Well, I’m not going to frame them or anything. They’re just paper plates, Mom. No one will care that much.” She sank down into a chair next to Dana. “What happened to your lip?”
Dana told Morgan the story, and Morgan
“Now I take an impression of the tooth to create the veneer.” When he was done, he handed her the mirror. She couldn’t see very clearly without her reading glasses, but it seemed fine. “I can’t even tell!” she said truthfully.
“Yeah.” He grinned as he yanked at his latex gloves and tossed them in the trash. “I’m pretty good with a chip, if I do say.” He gave her follow-up instructions. “No nail biting. And chew hard stuff with your back teeth.”
“Thanks for taking me so quickly,” said Dana.
“Don’t thank me.” He ducked into his office for a moment, then walked her out to the waiting room. “Thank my receptionist and hygienist for being out and all those patients for leaving. Sometimes a good thing comes when everything else falls apart.”
He handed her a sheet of paper with some names and phone numbers. “Association for the Prevention of Eating Disorders” blared out at her from the list. “I’m sure you’re already working on it,” he said, “but just in case you needed some further resources.” Then he reached for the ringing phone. “Cotters Rock Dental,” he said into the receiver. “Speaking . . .” He rolled his eyes at her. “Yes, I’m a regular one-man band today . . .”
CHAPTER 11
T HE COLLISION DEDUCTIBLE ON THE CAR WAS A thousand dollars. Dana called the insurance agency to confirm that there’d been a mistake. The agent, a woman with a practiced customer-relations brand of charm, told her, “We’ll get to the bottom of this in a jiff!”
We’ll get to the bottom of this, and we’ll find the deductible is only two hundred fifty dollars, Dana told herself. She’d set up the coverage herself and would never have agreed to such a large deductible. Kenneth was the one who thought bad things would never happen. “Insurance companies make their millions off people like you,” he’d often told Dana.
People like me, she brooded as she waited on hold. People who sideswipe light poles and chip teeth and act like a lunatic in public . . . we need insurance.
The breezy voice of the agent came back on the line. “Apparently Mr. Stellgarten increased the deductible about a year ago. He preferred a lower premium.”
“ He preferred?” said Dana. “But it’s my car !”
“He’s listed as the primary policyholder,” said the agent, downshifting to a friendly-but-firm tone. “If he instructs me to change the coverage, I’m bound by law to make that adjustment. You might want to discuss this with him.” Dana called several repair shops instead. The lowest estimate for the replacement mirror was almost five hundred dollars.
The front door opened, and Morgan came into the kitchen, studying the package of paper plates Dana had left in the mudroom. “Did they have any that weren’t so, like, happy ?” she said.
Dana sighed, feeling certain that a return trip to Party On! was in her future. “Happy-face plates, honey. That’s what you asked for. They’re happy.”
Morgan shrugged. “Okay.”
“Okay? You like them?”
“Well, I’m not going to frame them or anything. They’re just paper plates, Mom. No one will care that much.” She sank down into a chair next to Dana. “What happened to your lip?”
Dana told Morgan the story, and Morgan
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