She looked at the sign behind me that read ‘Dr. Lawrence Haygood, Cardiologist’ and raised her eyebrow.
I patted my chest. “I have a pacemaker.”
Her head tilted. “I realize that young people need them, but I didn’t realize that you had one. You don’t look sick.”
I shrugged. “I’m not. Anymore. But I was at one point in time. I got one when I was fifteen.”
Her brows rose. “Interesting. You never would know.”
I shrugged.
“What are you doing here?” I countered.
She crinkled up her nose.
“Well,” she hesitated. “I need to see a gynecologist. My yearly was due about three years ago. You know how I am with touch?” She looked at me as if I would understand. And I did. If regular touch was bad for her, then what must a touch like that be like? Torture, likely.
“I do,” I confirmed.
“Well,” she hesitated again. “I made this appointment months ago and forgot about it. The only problem is, I really need one. Three years is too long. And then I found out that the doctor is someone I know. So now I’m out here weighing the pros and cons of going inside.”
I frowned. “Someone you know?”
She winced. “Benji. My date that stood me up. Kind of. He’s the gynecologist.”
Understanding dawned. “Yeah, I’d totally skip that one.”
She sighed in frustration.
“I would. I really would. But my periods have gotten so heavy over the last six months that I think I need to see someone about them. Get something for them. Anything, really. It brings me down for like days every month now. And everyone else in the area is either booked solid for a half a year, or they’re a woman. And I don’t do women.”
“You don’t?” I wondered.
She shrugged. “I think it’s a man’s firmer touch that I’m more okay with. Women tend to have delicate touches. Which weird me out.”
That I sort of somewhat understood.
“So go.” I paused.
“You would?” she asked.
I thought about that for a moment and then shrugged. “I mean, it’s not like you have much of a choice, do you? You either go, or you don’t.”
Belle grinned. “So you can go with me… right?”
• • •
I wasn’t sure why I’d gone to her doctor appointment with her.
I’d known what it was for, and honestly, I would’ve probably been more inclined to stay outside had the man that wouldn’t take no for an answer not been her doctor. Apparently, over the last few days that had passed since the bar incident, Benji hadn’t taken a hint. He’d only tried all the harder to make up for his mistakes.
The man that had missed his date, called to apologize a few hours later, and gotten told in no uncertain terms by Belle that he was rude and needed to learn proper phone etiquette skills. She then refused to answer every call after that.
And, just like me, that attitude had turned the doctor on, and now he wouldn’t take the hint that Belle wasn’t interested.
That had to be why I’d tagged along to a gynecologist appointment.
Had to be.