“Fantastic. Why don’t you finish checking in with Rhonda while I grab you your post care paperwork to go over?”
“Shouldn’t you wait ‘til likepostcare?”
“I prefer to go over the informationpreandpostconsidering how much pain makes people forget or disregard or unable to comprehend.”
“You’re thoroughskies, Doc.” The brown eyed hockey forward I’m eye level with bends his tattoo skinned arms to rest on the high-top counter space in front of Rhonda. “I like that.”
“And I would like to go over your payment,” announces the woman reaching for a nearby tablet.
Dismissing myself to find Addison Seger, my lead dental assistant, is easily done as is instructing her on the paperwork to grab while I lock up my phone in my office.
It’s one of the random hockey things I learned from my big brother that I found easy to actually apply to my own career.
Stay focused.
Staycompletelyfocused on the immediate miles ahead versus allowing yourself to be distracted by thoughts of the next game or playoffs or trades or seasons.
This means putting away my cell.
Distancing myself from calendars, reports, patient questions from patients not directly in front of me.
I give each person in my chair my full dedication and everything I’ve got, or I give them nothing.
Never played sports, but the mentality is easy to implement elsewhere.
Post abandoning my device along with my drink, I grab the materials, inform her of our first procedure to ensure she grabs the right equipment, and return to the front area just in time to see a sight that drops my jaw to the ground.
“See, Doc.” Looft tips his head to the larger-than-life male that’s texting next to him who’s sporting an odd outfit of salmon pink shorts, an arctic blue linen shirt, and a tan, straw cowboy hat. “My rideskie.”
“Sorry,” he offhandedly mutters. “My little brother is havin’ a wardrobe crisis for this pool party. Evidently, there’s a dress code, so he was sendin’ me the Snap to see, but I was drivin’, then I needed to park, and now I’m tryin’ to text back an appropriate response that won’t send him spiralin’ into his typical teen ‘you jus’ don’t understand’ thing.”
“Trough?” airily slips past my parted lips rather than any retort remotely related to his ramble.
Whether it’s his name or my voice that crinkles his forehead prior to his gaze finding mine is unclear. “Gillian?”
“You two know each other?” Rhonnie curiously questions at the same time she leans towards the unexpected situation.
Ear to ear smiles stretch out on our respective faces as I girlishly coo, “Well, we-”
“Tendy?” my older brother Milano – or M – suddenly interrupts during his unanticipated approach. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Tendy?
Like…goaltender?!
Like…on my brother’steamgoaltender?!
Like…on my brother’s team therefore we canneverdate goaltender?
That tendy?
You mean to tell me out ofallthe goalie options out there – including lacrosse, soccer, and fucking water polo – I somehow magically managed to meet and flirt with theonethat’s off-limits?!
I now see that Kira’s late-night espresso of wisdom wasn’t brewed to perfection.
Yes, there’snothing wrong with wanting a little bit of romance for yourselfunlessit just so happens to be with one of the hockey players that your big brother coaches for a living.
Chapter 3
