I’m concentrating so hard on hiding from the man who justflushed and didn’t wash his hands that I almost miss the return of my new favorite brown dress shoes. Relief washes over me when he raps a knuckle lightly over the door, and I lower my feet as he wordlessly reaches under the partition with his offering.
I bite my lip and stifle a smile as I take the tampon, even though my crush can’t see me.
Okay, so I’m a married woman, and I would never go after another man. But that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate a gentleman when I find him. Especially since I can’t text my own husband to come to my rescue or even expect him to console me after learning that another month has passed and I am not, in fact, pregnant.
“Thank you,” I whisper once it sounds like we’re alone again.
“Glad to be of service, ma’am. Or do you prefersir?”
I simper at the walls of my bathroom stall. “Did you steal this from your wife or something?”
“My date. But don’t worry, she’s too busy watching her ex from across the restaurant to ask why I’m tending to mystery women in the restroom.”
“Oof. Sounds like we’re both having a rough night,” I reply, genuinely sorry that a man this nice seems to have gotten stuck with a crappy date. “For what it’s worth, she’s missing out.”
He chuckles softly. “What about you? Date gone wrong?”
“I wish,” I say on a sigh. “It’s even worse. I married a guy who couldn’t care less that I’m in here crying because … Well, it doesn’t matter. It is what it is.”
My stranger clears his throat. “This might be an overstep, but I’m actually an OB-GYN, so I’m obligated to recommend you see your doctor if you’re experiencing problems. That’s what we’re here for, you know?”
I smile. That’s probably why he wasn’t freaked out by my unfortunate menstruation situation. “Thanks. Know any good fertility doctors?”
He clicks his tongue. “Around here? Afraid not. I have heard good things about a new midwife in this area, though. She uses hormone screening and fertility awareness tracking to identify theroot of the problem, so she can treat the cause and not just the symptoms.”
“Oh. You’re not from here?”
“Baton Rouge.”
“I’d be willing to drive to see a specialist if they were worth it,” I say.
“I do work with a fertility specialist, but I can’t recommend him because … I don’t agree with all of his practices,” he says after hesitating for a second.
My brow lifts. “Good to know.”
We’re both quiet for a while before he speaks again. “Well, I’m sure you’d like your privacy now. Is there anything else I can do before I get back to my date?”
“No, I’m fine, thank you,” I reply, a little sad he’s leaving.
“Should I hang around and guard the door for you?”
I wonder for a second if he might be stalling, and it makes me smile to pretend he’d rather talk to me through a bathroom stall than return to the woman waiting at his table.
“Nah, I’m good. Tell your date I appreciate the tampon, but I’m gonna need her to quit acting like one.”
I hear him choke on a laugh. “Tell your husband he’s not doing his job well enough. And make sure he understands the critique applies toallof his husbandly duties.”
This time a loud cackle bubbles up from my chest. “Yeah. I will.”
And I watch his feet as he lingers for a second longer before walking out the door.
CHAPTER ONE
claire
“So sorry to hear aboutyour divorce, my baby,” my great-aunt Verna leans in to whisper, patting my hand softly. “But good riddance. I know it’s a terrible thing to say, but—Wait, are we talkin’ shit on him yet?”
Half of my mouth lifts in a smile. “Yep. Let ‘er rip.”
