“Yeah, Dr. Cobb, I presume?”
“That would be me. Please come in.”
I followed him inside, and immediately smiled. The foyer had been turned into a front desk and waiting area, and the stairs in back had a rope hanging off one of the banisters to cordon off the living quarters.
“You live upstairs?”
“Yeah, I decided that since I didn’t need all this room, I could cut costs by turning the downstairs into the clinic. I only have one kitchen though, so it’s shared between the staff and myself, but it is what it is.” He led me into what must’ve been a dining room once.
There were a couple of desks in opposite corners, one of which was clearly his, and a dining table in between.
He gestured for me to take a seat at the table, so I picked a chair and waited for him to sit down at the end of the table.
“There’s coffee brewing; I was running a bit late, but we can chat while we wait,” he said, smiling for the first time.
“Sure.” I smiled back and looked around. “I like how you’ve used the space. Very efficient but not cluttered.”
Dr. Cobb chuckled. “Thank you. I was happy to see that the dining room was elongated like this.”
“I can’t wait to see the rest of it.”
“So, you’re new to the area as well, right?”
“Right, my best friend inherited property about a twenty-five-minute drive from here, and I’d conveniently quit my previous job in New York City when he heard about that, so I decided to come with.”
Something beeped, and Dr. Cobb got to his feet. “Let’s go get the coffee.” I followed him into the kitchen. “What made you quit your job?”
I sighed. “Well, for one, I wanted to be a pediatric nurse, really. I ended up working at a busy emergency room where the head nurse wasn’t keen on me.”
He glanced at me as if surprised by my candor. “Tell me if I’m stepping over a line you don’t want crossed, but had your appearance something to do with that?”
I chuckled as I poured some milk into my mug. “Educated guess?”
“You could say that.” He laughed as he pulled some cinnamon buns out of the oven.
“Wow, do you bake?”
“No, not really. I used to, though. I bought these from the bakery, and I feel like reheating them in the oven is better than the microwave, you know.”
I didn’t know, but I nodded anyway. Cinnamon buns were delicious either way.
We took our goodies back to the dining room and sat again.
“So, I wanted to be even more direct, before we start,” I blurted out.
Dr. Cobb made a go ahead gesture while taking a bite of a bun.
“I’m gay, openly, and while I wear scrubs for work, I tend to keep my hair bleached and if I could, I’d wear makeup more often. And I don’t just mean eyeliner.”
He nodded slowly. “I mean, I’m part of the LGBTQ community myself, so that’s definitely not an issue for me. I’m still figuring out some details about the clinic, but inclusivity is a big deal for me, given the stories I’ve seen of some places not taking queer people seriously or even refusing treatment in some cases. I would definitely keep the inclusivity going in the staff where possible, and while I don’t have any opinions on makeup on men in general, I would like my nurses to not wear more than let’s say, what you have on now and maybe some, erm, foundation?” His inflection rose adorably at the end when he made a guess on the word.
“Yeah, foundation. I get that. I’m not expecting to ever find a nursing job where I can go full on drag makeup on a daily basis.” I grinned. “Not that it’s my thing anyway. But I was thinking about a bit of eyeshadow maybe. That sort of thing.”
Dr. Cobb thought for a beat as he drank some coffee. “I don’t see why not. You seem to have a good grasp of what’s professional.”
“Now, this is where you interview me and then show me around,” I told him before biting into delicious cinnamon goodness.
He threw his head back and laughed. “It is? Well, I guess we should get on with it, then.”
