“I’m gonna check on that ramp. Fellas.” I left the kitchen, but I could still feel the heat of her gaze on me.
The familiar scentof latex and antiseptic greeted me as I exited the elevator on the rheumatology wing for my routine check-up. I hated this place, but after three weeks of sawdust and hammering, my home had become a construction site. It was almost a relief, a familiarity that hadn’t changed. Dr. Easton had been a godsend. She was the first person to take me seriously when I was hopping fromdoctor to doctor, trying to figure out what was going on with my body. I used to cry before and after appointments from the frustration of not getting any answers.
One doctor told me it was just anxiety. Another thought it was early-onset arthritis. I could count on both hands the number of people who looked me dead in the face and said itwas all in my head. But Dr. Easton? She didn’t brush me off. She listened, ran real tests, and fought to get me answers. When the results came back, she didn’t just deliver the diagnosis. No, she helped me build a life around my new normal.
“Good morning, Miss Green.” The receptionist greeted us as I rolled through the double doors. Teagan walked beside me, a little too chipper for someone taking their sister to the doctor, if you asked me.
“Good morning,” I replied.
“Is that my favorite patient?” one nurse sang out.
“Sure is.” I waved at the short, shapely nurse. I couldn’t remember her name. It was either Kelly or Kendra, but I knew her face and the gentle way she held my wrist during blood draws.
“Hey, girl!” Teagan greeted her like she was our long-lost cousin. “Y’all got my sister back here again, huh? Upset or what?”
“You know we can’t get enough.” The nurse chuckled before zeroing in on me. “Dr. Easton’s running five minutes behind, but you’re still her favorite.”
“Great, thank you,” I replied as I took the clipboard she handed me.
“Favorite? Dr. Easton is basically family now. We have the Christmas card to prove it.” Teagan leaned over, whispering behind her palm.
I rolled my eyes, but a laugh slipped past my lips anyway.
“Make sure they punch your loyalty card.” She looked at me, dead ass serious.
“Don’t make me run you over.”
“On that note, I’ma go sit down.” She grinned and walked over to have a seat while I checked in. I scribbled my current symptoms on the paper and then handed her back the survey.
“Alright, Ms. Bell, you’re all checked in. Someone will call you shortly.”
“Thank you,” I said, already maneuvering my chair toward the waiting area where Teagan slouched in one of the chairs, thumbing through her phone. I parked next to her and dug through my bag until I found my phone. I had one new message. I tapped it open, frowning at the unknown number. Random people didn’t text me. For half a second, I was confused until I read the message. Then it clicked. It was Quade.
He never texted. We mostly communicated through quick phone calls while he was working on the ramp and mapping out things inside. I’d never actually saved his number. Mainly, he just waited until he saw me to give me updates about the door measurements or ask about the paint I wanted.
Unknown:
We’re at your house. I knocked, but nobody answered. We’re finishing up the ramp. Just letting you know.
I started typing a response, feeling a little bad I had forgotten to tell him I’d be gone this morning, but a second text came in before I could finish.
Unknown:
You good? I don’t need to bust the door down do I?
A small smile crept across my lips. I shook my head, thumbs moving.
Me:
Doctor’s appointment. Forgot to tell you. I’m all good. No need to go Incredible Hulk.
Unknown:
You left the house? Progress.
Me:
Just a routine doctor’s appointment. I’ll be at my canvas by noon.
