Page 9

When you grow up in a trailer with a crack whore as a mother, chances are you don’t go to many doctor appointments. Or in my case, I’d never been to the doctor. I can tell you that my first impressions weren’t favorable.
I frowned at the medical assistant. Reading her tag, I said, “Listen Tina, is this really necessary? Oh, and it’s not Mrs. Landry. I’m not married.”
It wasn’t that I was trying to be difficult. Honestly, I just sure as shit didn’t want to get on a scale in front of Mark.
She pursed her lips as if to say,Not one of those types—difficult.
Yes, Tina, I am one of those types. In fact, I am likely president of the fucking fan club for those types. Reigning in my internal dialog, I tried to reason with her.
“Tina, I am not really a scale kind of person. I prefer to go off how my clothes fit. I find that scales are very demotivating, and not an accurate gauge. Don’t you?”
Mark’s barked cough sounded suspiciously like a laugh.
Tina’s eyes narrowed as she said in clipped tones, “Medical science isn’t gauged off of a feeling, Mrs. Landry. We need to track certain measurements during your pregnancy to ensure that you and your baby are healthy. And yes, I feel that scales are precisely accurate. That’s why we use them.”
Before I could ask Mark to hold my shoes while I gave this bitch an education, he intervened.
“Just a moment, Tina. May I call you Tina?” He shot her a panty melting grin that was both boyish and disarmingly charming.
What in the hell?
The chubby woman blushed, and you would have thought she was sixteen rather than the wrong side of fifty.
“Certainly, sir,” she said, smiling widely.
I fought rolling my eyes.
“Tina,” he said her name like a caress. She was damn near coming in her scrubs. “Mrs. Williams is feeling faint. Perhaps she can sit and wait for the doctor?”
“Oh, of course, right this way.” Tina marched right past the scale into a patient room. “I beg your pardon. I had down here the name Landry.”
Mark grinned and leaned in confidingly. “This is the future Mrs. Williams. So, if you wouldn’t mind updating her chart, I would greatly appreciate it.”
She bit her lip. “I don’t know, Sir. For legal purposes I really shouldn’t.”
It was getting thick in here and it had nothing to do with me.
He leaned in toward her. “I’d consider it a close, personal favor.”
It was as if she had decided right then and there to give up her panties and become his willing slave.
“Of course, Sir,” she stammered, her blush staining her cheeks and neck. “I would be more than happy to assist in any way. You know, sir, some women ask to stand on the scale backwards, so they don’t have to see the numbers. Others ask their handsome husbands to look away or not come in until it’s finished.”
I nearly choked on her use ofhandsomein the sentence. I was tempted to ask if they let the ugly ones watch, but I didn’t think that Mark would appreciate my sarcasm.
Embarrassment washed over me. Did I really care about a stupid number on the scale?
Tina was motioning toward another scale that was stationed in the patient room. They had these damn things everywhere.
I wasn’t about to be embarrassed about my weight, was I? With resolve, I climbed onto the scale—and closed my eyes.
“All done,” she chirped, and it was over before I knew it. “Dr. Roberts will be right with you, but in the meantime, I would like you to slip out of your clothes and into this gown for the exam.”
I looked from the flimsy paper in my hands back to Tina. “You’re not serious. That looks like an oversized handkerchief.”
Tina eyed me over her glasses. “Somehow I have a feeling that this is going to be a long forty weeks.”
This time Mark didn’t bother to hide his laughter.