I hold my hand to my cheek again. “Yeah. Just a toothache. You think you’re okay out here for a minute?”
“What’s the worst that could happen?” she asks.
I look at her for a moment, and she rolls her eyes. “I promise not to trash the place while you’re gone, okay?”
I nod, secretly thankful that she put it out there before I had to. I shuffle to Uncle Vernon’s office, holding my cheek. I can feel the pain all the way down to my toes. I’ve had a toothache before, but this is something different altogether. I sit down at the desk and just close my eyes for a few moments as the throbbing thrums through me like a tuning fork.
Finally I reach for the first-aid kit, but find the bottle of ibuprofen completely empty. I reach for the office phone and do what I’ve done anytime something hurts more thanI can handle. I call my mom.
She answers after only half a ring. “Millie?” she asks, recognizing the gym number on her cell. “Is everything okay, sweetie?”
I don’t normally call during work, and she’s been a little on edge since the place was vandalized anyway. “I’m fine,” I answer automatically. “Well, no, actually I’m not. My mouth is throbbing, Mom.”
“Is it a toothache?” she asks. “You didn’t crack a tooth, did you? Your grandmother did that once on a piece of hard candy.”
“No, it feels worse than a normal toothache. This is more at the back of my mouth. And Mom, it just hurts so bad. I can barely keep my eyes open.”
“Oh dear,” she says. “That would be your wisdom teeth.”
I don’t know exactly what this means, but it doesn’t sound good.
“Let me call Dr. Shepherd.” Before I was born, my mom was one of Dr. Shepherd’s dental hygienists, and she’s never been shy about calling in a favor.
“Mama, it’s almost six o’clock on a Friday.”
“Well,” she huffs, “I don’t expect that your wisdom teeth know or care what day or time it is.”
“But I’m supposed to go to Malik’s birthday party with Amanda.”
“I’m sorry to break it to you, but I don’t think you’re going anywhere but the dentist today. Just stay put in thatback office, and I’ll be up there in a jiff with Vernon so he can lock the place up.”
The moment we hang up, I slump forward, laying my head on the desk, and the next thing I know, my mom is guiding me to her car and I’m mumbling to Uncle Vernon to teach Callie how to close down the gym and then I’m in Dr. Shepherd’s office.
The last thing I remember hearing are the words “emergency wisdom teeth removal” as I lie absolutely helpless with Dr. Shepherd’s fingers in my mouth and a bib around my neck.
Everything after that is fuzzy, like how I imagine it would be to live in a place where snow falls so endlessly you can’t see more than two feet in front of you. Snow in my hair. Snow melting on my cheeks. Snow in my eyelashes. Snow everywhere.
Callie
Twelve
If I didn’t have to bear the brunt of Inga’s wrath, I’d actually respect the woman. When she and Vernon showed up with their two screaming babies, she didn’t even acknowledge me. Her chief concerns were helping Millie to the car and counting the register to be sure I hadn’t stolen anything.
While she did that, Vernon rocked both their twins back and forth in their huge double stroller. I use the wordtwinsgenerously. Those boys are little screaming demons. I don’t know what kind of contract with the devil Vernon and Inga inked to get stuck with two beet-faced howlers.
“Callie,” says Vernon, “could you double count the register while Inga prepares the deposit sheet?”
“Uh, no sir,” says Inga. “This criminal is not touching our money.” She elbows me out of the way.
“Whatever you say,” I grumble. While I don’t like being referred to as a criminal, it’s kind of nice to come across someone who’s finally saying exactly what she thinks.
Inga snaps her fingers, and over the continuous wailing, she says, “I see fingerprints all over this glass. What have you even been doing all day?” She licks her thumbto count the bills in the register and leans a little closer to me. Too quiet for Vernon to hear, she says, “If your fate had been up to me, I would have thrown your spoiled ass in jail.”
I liberally squirt the glass cleaner all over the counter and look to her. In my most deadpan voice, I say, “You can’t fire me. I work for free.”
Inga snarls and closes out the register. She calls out each of the closing duties and uses the stopwatch from Vernon’s office to time me. For no reason at all. Except that she can. I hate the woman, but I’m also taking notes.
After we lock up, I find my mom outside in her Tahoe waiting for me. I watch as she gets out. I drag my finger across my neck in an attempt to get her to stay in the car, but she’s already bustling over to Vernon and Inga.
