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I sat back heavily in my seat. “I’m beginning to think men are not sending us their best people.”

She scoffed, which was Jessica’s version of laughing. “All they do is lie and throw off your PH balance. They are a constant reminder that we don’t choose our sexuality, because who in their right mind would choose to be attracted to men. They are completely worthless as partners. Did you know that when a wife becomes seriously ill, she is six times more likely to be abandoned by her spouse than a husband is?”

I stared at her. “Are you serious?”

She took out a compact and checked her teeth. “And the older the woman, the higher the rate of abandonment. I hear there’s a saying up in oncology. When the wife gets sick, the husband gets a new wife.” She clicked the mirror closed and gave me a pursed-lip can-you-believe-this-shit look.

I blinked at her in horror. “That is disgusting.”

“Yes, it is.” She agreed. “But remember, you can’t spell disappointment without men,” she sang.

I laughed a little too manically before putting my forehead into my hand. “That’s it,” I mumbled. “I’m giving up. I should just accept that I’m never having sex again. I’m canceling my bikini-wax appointments. Just gonna let the forest reclaim the land, succumb to my inner swamp witch.”

I squeezed my eyes shut from behind my glasses. “I feel like if I died, it would take me a solid twenty-four hours to realize I’m in hell.”

Then I groaned, remembering. “And then there’s this asshole I’m working with, this new guy I can’t stand—”

“Oh? Who?” she asked, looking back at her phone, only sounding mildly interested.

“Dr. Maddox.” I made a face.

She paused and looked up at me over her screen. “Jacob Maddox?”

I rubbed my forehead tiredly. “Yeah. You know him?”

“Wonderful man,” she said matter-of-factly.

I froze and blinked at her. “I’m sorry—what?”

Her beeper started going off. “I know his mother,” she said, looking at her pager. “I’ve known the whole family for years. I have an emergency C-section, I need to run.” She got up.

“Wait. Are you sure we’re talking about the same Jacob?” I said, watching her grab her bag. “Brown reddish hair? Sort of yea high—”

“He was head of emergency medicine at Memorial West. He’s an excellent human being.”

I stared at her. An excellent—“Nobody likes him!”

She flung her bag over her shoulder. “Well, they’re wrong. Drinks later?”

“I can’t. But—”

“Text me when you’re free.”

She grabbed her coffee and I watched her walk off, high heels clicking. She dropped the cup into a trash can, turned a corner, and disappeared.

I sat there blinking after her from behind my glasses.

What the hell was that about?

She didn’t say anything nice about anyone, let alone men. An excellent human being? Gross.

Whatever.

I was too exhausted to even think on this. I had to broach the Mom/move-in subject with Benny today. Then if he said yes, I had to actually move him in, which I doubted he’d be able to help with in his state. I didn’t have time to ponder the benevolence of what’s-his-face.

I finished my coffee alone and then went to the locker room to get rid of the hoodie and glasses and change my tampon. I felt surly and extra grouchy, so when I got to the ER and saw Gloria standing by a patient room with Hector, peeking through a crack in the curtain, I came up behind them like a cranky old woman getting ready to chase people off her lawn. “What are you doing?” I grumbled.

“Shhhhhh,” Gloria whispered. “We’re watching.”