“What?” He asks, his tonesharp.
“Nice beard. Very neat. Trimmed. But you’re right. It’s nothing.” I turn and prance from the room as my dad grumbles something behindme.
* * *
“Hello, Ms. Reynolds.”The portly woman peers down at Claire through the glass window she pulled back when we walked in. “You must beClaire.”
“I am,” Claire announces, making the womanlaugh.
“We’ve been expecting you.” The woman winks atme.
“Wonderful,” I murmur. Would Isaac have told this woman who weare?
Claire and I sit in the waiting room. I fill out paperwork while she draws on the little Boogie Board I brought withus.
When I return the paperwork to the woman, she beams at me. I wish she would stop smiling at me like that. It makes me uncomfortable. Andembarrassed.
Claire’s drawing a robot, one she says will pick up her dirty clothes off the floor. I check emails on my phone until our name iscalled.
I don’t know why I thought it would be Isaac calling us in. I push the disappointment aside. With Claire’s hand nestled in mine we walk to the young woman holding aclipboard.
She smiles, introduces herself as Nicole, and tells Claire she’s going to take pictures of herarm.
“Do you mean x-rays?” Claireasks.
Nicole laughs. “Yep,” she says, leading us to the x-ray room. We pass door after closed door, and inside one I hear a man’s deep voice.Isaac’s?
Inside the x-ray room, Nicole situates Claire and motions for me to stand behind a wall with her. She takes three x-rays, all with Claire’s arm in different positions, then moves us to an examroom.
“Dr. Cordova will be right in.” She closes the door behind her with a polite smile. It makes me feel better. Maybe he didn’t announce who we are to his wholestaff.
Less than a minute goes by before Isaac walks in. He’s holding an iPad in his hand. His scrub shirt is tucked into his pants, and his cell phone is clipped to hiswaist.
“How are you ladies doing?” He holds out an open palm to Claire. She slaps his hand as hard as she can. Grimacing, he shakes his hand and says, “Ow.”
His eyes are on me. “Aubrey? How areyou?”
“Good. Enjoying a morning offwork.”
“Me, too.” Isaac laughs at his own joke. He sits down on the wheeled seat and rolls in front of Claire. “And you, Claire? How areyou?”
“Good. Am I getting a casttoday?”
“That depends. Do you want one?” He raises one eyebrow, a smile playing on hislips.
Her hair falls in her face with her vigorousnod.
“First let me talk with your mom about your x-rays, then we’ll get you your cast. Start thinking about what color you want.” Isaac brings the iPad to where I’m sitting and settles into the chair beside me. He leans over, holding the tablet in front of me. If I didn’t want to see the x-rays so badly, I’d leanaway.
Does he sit this close to all hispatients?
“She’s looking good,” he says. His eyes are trained on the screen, fingers tracing the metal rods in her bone, objects that look out of place in an arm. “These are thepins.”
My stomach flip-flops. I glance at Claire’s arm in disbelief. I can’t believe those are inside ofher.
“We’ll get a cast on her now, and then I’ll see her back here in two weeks, and we’ll do this all over again.” He stands, opens the door, and leansout.
“Randall,” he says, his voice raised. “Arm cast in six.” He backs out of the open door and lets it close. “He’ll be here in asecond.”
