His Other Life

Chapter 8

EIGHT

GEMMA

April, three years ago

The office was dark and silent when Gemma unlocked the doors. They’d been operating with a skeleton crew for the past week—only Dr. Richards, the other dental hygienist, Fran, and Gemma. Everyone else was on furlough until further notice in accordance with CDC recommendations and they weren’t doing any preventative appointments.

Fran had grumbled about having to do the work of the assistants and reception in addition to her own responsibilities, but Gemma didn’t mind. She was grateful to get out of the apartment, especially now that Cheryl had been let go from her waitressing job. She hummed to herself while preparing the two rooms they would be using for the day, and then she logged in to the computer and picked an upbeat eighties playlist for the speaker system.

They would only be seeing six patients today—three crowns, two root canals, and one extraction. Gemma scanned the schedule, her eyes catching on one name. It was the nervous cracked tooth from two weeks ago—Mr. Gallagher, first name, Jonah. And he was the second patient of the day. She’d better get the nitrous ready for chair two then.

Dr. Richards arrived twenty minutes later and Fran shortly after him. The first patient did not, however, and when Gemma called, she said she’d left a voicemail over the weekend that she was sick and couldn’t make it. There had been no voicemail, but it wasn’t like anyone was going to tell a sick person to come in and “open wide” under current circumstances, so Gemma wished the patient a speedy recovery then went to grab her book from the staff room. Fran was assigned Mr. Gallagher, so Gemma would be biding her time at the front desk until their first afternoon root canal arrived.

She was deeply entrenched in a historical Scottish Highlands time travel novel when the front door opened and a pair of familiar hazel eyes met hers above a black mask.

“Jonah. Hello.” Gemma tried to make her smile shine through her surgical mask as best as she could. The use of his first name was intentional—a tried-and-true strategy to make patients feel more at home.

He’d paused right inside the door, gazing around the waiting room, but now he took a step toward her. “I’m here for my, um, crown.”

“Right. How has the temporary one been treating you?”

“Okay. It’s a little sore, but nothing I can’t manage.”

“We’ll get that taken care of and you’ll be good as new. I’ve got you all checked in.”

“Okay.” He pulled off his beanie. “Thanks.”

When he didn’t move, she nodded toward the chairs along the wall. “You can have a seat if you want. Fran will be right with you.”

“Okay,” he said again, and this time, he sat, arms crossed in front of him and one leg bouncing up and down.

Gemma shook her head as she left the reception to let the others know he was here. She’d have to give Fran a heads-up that this one needed kid gloves.

Jonah had only been in the chair for ten minutes when Fran came outside to where Gemma was back in the world of kilts and Jacobite uprisings.

“He’s asking for you,” she said.

“He is?”

“Yeah. You weren’t kidding about the nerves.”

Gemma put her book down, a small thrill bouncing through her. A request like that was always the best compliment. “I guess I can take over. Will you mind the phones?”

“Sure, no problem. I owe you one. Got a killer headache too, so it’s probably for the best.”

“Take some ibuprofen. It’s quiet out here. Only one call all morning so far.”

Gemma hurried to wash up and put her gloves and goggles on. Then she joined Dr. Richards at Jonah’s chair.

“How are we doing?” she asked.

“Okay,” Jonah garbled back. “Will it hurt?”

She met the doctor’s eyes, and he nodded to her, a sign that she could take the reins.

“We’re going to do what we did last time, okay?” she said. “You’ll breathe some nitrous, we’ll get you numbed up, and then we’ll fit the new crown. It’ll be ten, fifteen minutes tops.”

“Okay.”

She reached for the nose cone but paused at the sight of his clasped hands, the grip so tight his knuckles were whitening. “Relax,” she said, touching his shoulder. She needed to think of something that would distract him.

As she applied the numbing gel, she started talking. “It’s weird how quiet the streets are, right? It probably didn’t take you very long to drive here today. My commute has been so much better. Not that I like what’s going on.” She straightened his bib then sat back to let the doctor get to work. “It kind of reminds me of this one time at an old job. I worked summers at Oaks Amusement Park when I was a teenager. Do you know it? It was great—there were a bunch of us just having a good time. Well one day we showed up, and there was hardly anyone there. Which was unusual.”

Jonah let out a small “uh” sound as Dr. Richards removed the temporary cap.

“Focus on me,” Gemma said. She took his hand on instinct, and he relaxed again.

“Anyway,” she continued. “It was me and two of my friends walking through an almost empty parking lot. The gates were open, but the place was basically deserted. Like in some kind of horror movie. It turned out there was a storm coming. Everyone had gotten the memo except us.”

Jonah squeezed her hand.

Gemma looked up at Dr. Richards. “Need me to do anything?”

“No, almost done.”

“So, my friends and I helped ourselves to popcorn and slushies and played a few games of whack-a-mole before the thunder rolled in and we figured things out. But that’s what the city reminds me of these days. Like a storm is coming and everyone is hunkered down.”

“Okay,” Dr. Richards said. “Crown is in. Now, let’s make sure nothing is too high. Gemma?”

She extricated her hand and reached for the articulating paper.

“We’re done?” Jonah asked.

“Almost.” Gemma tapped his chin to get him to open again. He had a tiny dimple in the middle of it where his stubble congregated. She could feel it prickle through her glove. “There you go.”

Once the crown was polished and his bite adjusted, Gemma helped him sit up.

“How does that feel?” Dr. Richards asked. “All good?”

Jonah touched his cheek and moved his jaw around. “I think so.”

“If you have any issues, give us a call, okay?”

“Thanks, doc.”

“Let me grab your coat for you,” Gemma said, reaching for where it hung on a hook around the corner.

“Thanks.” He took it from her and put it on. When he faced her again, his expression was transformed. Gone was any apprehension, replaced instead with the self-assuredness one would presume to find in a man with his good genes. “Did you really work at an amusement park?”

The change made Gemma tongue-tied. It was like their roles had flip-flopped. No longer was her attention to him one-sided, and she wasn’t used to it. “I did. Three summers in a row. Why?”

“It’s so random, but I worked at the Evergreen State Fair as a teen. Similar thing. Loved it.”

“Free rides, fireworks, people having fun. What’s not to love?” Gemma walked through the doorway to the lobby with Jonah trailing her, but no one was at the front desk. Fran must have gone back to the staff room.

“And the smells,” he said, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Buttered popcorn, elephant ears, French fries.”

“Roasted nuts, hotdogs.” She grinned up at him.

For a moment, a comfortable silence stretched between them, then Jonah pulled his beanie back on.

“I’m sorry you had to see me like that,” he said. “Dentists are my kryptonite. Believe it or not, I’m usually a pretty laid-back guy.”

Seeing him now, she believed him. “I get it. No worries. You should see me near any sort of open water.”

“No way? I played water polo in college. I love the water.”

“But sharks!”

“Rare in swimming pools.”

They both laughed.

How long had it been since she’d made small talk with a guy like this—some simple friendly banter. An innocuous connection. Between her aunt and her ex, she’d grown used to feeling like she was in the way, so to be looked at like someone who brought value filled her with energy.

“Well, thanks again,” Jonah said, reaching for the door.

She wanted to keep him talking, to extend the moment a little, but drew a blank. “Sure thing,” she said instead. “Take care.”

And then he was gone.

Fran called in sick the rest of the week, so Gemma and Dr. Richards were alone in the office the few hours a day they had patients scheduled. When she was home, she spent most of her time in her room reading. She would have preferred to be on the couch in the brighter living room where a large glass sliding door led to a balcony overlooking a small park, but Cheryl seemed to have taken up permanent residence in front of the TV, and Gemma found it difficult to focus on her stories with daytime talk shows as a constant backdrop.

To make up for the too-sparse amount of daylight let into her space through a small north-facing window, she’d tidied, washed the sheets, and hung up a few prints that had been sitting in a box since she’d moved in. It made the room cozy, especially when the rain pounded the pavement outside. She also made sure to go for walks every day to soak up whatever vitamin D she could, and she still hadn’t given up on getting her aunt to come along.

Gemma knew she had it pretty good all things considered. Her best friend from high school, Sadie, lived down in Eugene with her family, and when Gemma told her that she’d gone through five books from her to-be-read list in seven days, her friend groaned.

“Oh my God, to be able to read even one book,” she said. “With the twins home from preschool, there’s no time. All I’m doing is trying to keep them quiet so Parker can work from home. I fucking hate this.”

“Aww, I wish I could come rescue you for a night out,” Gemma said. “But hopefully this will all be over soon, and we can get back to business as usual. I can’t keep living with Cheryl forever, that’s for sure, and I need to make some new friends. Can you believe all those assholes picked Yuri’s side when he dumped me? Well except Ariel, but she’s moving to Nevada.”

“That settles it. We need to find you a new guy. How long has it been? Six months? Seven? That’s just not healthy.”

“It’s fine.”

It wasn’t fine. She still hadn’t been able to bring herself to unfollow Yuri on socials, telling herself she needed the reminders of what a douche he’d been. But those reminders also included the new woman—all light-blond, sun-kissed, five-foot-ten of her—so maybe Gemma wasn’t so keen to hit the dating apps any time soon. What she craved was some good conversation and a few laughs. For someone to be curious about her as a person.

Before she could stop herself, she blurted, “There was a cute guy in the office last week actually.”

“Oh really? Tell me everything.”

Gemma faced her reflection in the mirrored closet door. Damn you. She tried to backtrack. “Um, there’s not much to tell. He was nice, that’s all.”

“Nah, I don’t buy it. There must be more than that if you’re still thinking about him.”

She was still thinking about him, Gemma realized, pathetic as it was. Was that all it took these days—a few minutes of friendly conversation and a handsome face? Not that it mattered. “He’s spoken for of course.”

“Ring?”

“Yes.”

“But that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. Did he mention her?”

“No.”

“Maybe he’s recently divorced. Or a widower. You don’t know what you don’t know. You should call him.”

Gemma let out a sputtered laugh. “I can’t do that.”

“Why the hell not? Who knows—maybe he’s sitting at home right now, all by his lonesome, wondering what you’re up to. Call him.”

Gemma’s cheeks warmed. “That would be unethical. He’s a patient.”

“So call him to follow up on his dental work. Does he have any complaints? Does he want to leave a review? Make something up.”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Shit, the little monsters are in the pantry. Gotta go. Keep me posted. Love ya.”

Sadie hung up before Gemma had a chance to respond. She stared at her phone for a long moment. Was there something to what her friend was saying? She flipped onto her stomach on the bed, and as she did so, her necklace slid out from beneath her top to dangle in front of her face. Yuri had bought it for her on their three-month anniversary, and she still loved it. There could be many reasons why someone still wore jewelry after a relationship ended. Maybe the ring didn’t mean what she’d assumed it to mean. Maybe she did need to find out.

Gemma was still debating the merits of Sadie’s suggestion the next day in the office, but when Dr. Richards had left for the day and she was closing down the computers, she made her choice. It was common courtesy to make sure he wasn’t having issues with the crown, wasn’t it? She could ask, and if he was fine, that would be that. No harm done.

With shaking fingers, Gemma looked Jonah up in the patient chart and jotted down his cell-phone number on a sticky note. Then she hurried to put it in her purse. She’d drive home then call. Have one last think about it beforehand. It was only three thirty in the afternoon, so he might not even pick up. With some luck, her call would go straight to voicemail and then the ball would be in his court. If this whole thing turned out to be something resembling a game in the first place that was.

She had convinced herself of that scenario to such a degree that when after five beeps a voice croaked out a bass-y “Hello” on the other end, she didn’t speak at first, expecting the shrill tone to sound indicating the start of a message.

When that didn’t happen, she realized he was there, live, in her ear. “Um, hi. Um, is this Jonah?”

A lengthy coughing fit followed. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“Um, hi,” she said again, squeezing her eyes shut. “Hi, this is Gemma from Dr. Richards’ office. I’m just calling to see, um, how you’re doing with that crown.”

“Oh.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry. Hold on a second.”

She waited. Something rustled on the other end, followed by the clang of something being set down onto wood. Another coughing fit, then he returned. She could tell by his breathing.

“You sound terrible,” she said. “Are you okay?”

“I’ve been better,” he rasped. “I must have caught the stupid virus somewhere. It’s knocked me out for sure.”

“Oh God, I’m so sorry.”

A brief silence billowed between them before he sniffled. “Oh right, the crown. That’s what you asked about. Sorry, I get kind of loopy when I have a fever.”

He had a fever too? “That sounds bad. Hopefully you have someone there to take care of you.”

“Nope only me.”

Inside Gemma’s head, Sadie yelled, “Told you so.”

“But yeah, the crown is good,” he continued. “No issues. You guys did a good job.”

“And you’re not just saying that because you hate going to the dentist?”

He chuckled, which led to more coughing. “No. I promise. Nice dig though.”

She smiled. “That’s not how I meant it. I want you to be comfortable.” She cringed. “I mean—we want all our patients to be comfortable. Satisfied and comfortable.” Oh Lord, she should stop talking now.

“Well, I am. Thank you.” He was quiet for a beat, and it sounded like he’d taken a sip of something.

She was gearing up to end the call when he sniffled again then asked, “So how have you been? These are weird times, right?”

Gemma stared unseeingly out the windshield of her car toward the apartment building. That wasn’t a question she’d ever been asked by a patient.

“It is weird,” she agreed. “But I’m good. Better off than many, I think, since I’m still working. My aunt is driving me a little nuts—I live with her right now, long story—but other than that, I can’t complain.” She snapped her mouth shut. He wasn’t asking for an account of her life.

“That’s refreshing to hear,” he said. “Since complaining is becoming something of a national sport.”

“I know, right? I think my aunt is going for the gold medal in the hundred-meter grumble.”

“Ha!” His laugh mixed with more coughing before he managed a throaty, “Good one.”

“Hey, are you really doing okay?” she asked. “Have you seen a doctor?”

“I talked to my primary yesterday and I guess I have to let it run its course as long as it’s not affecting my breathing.”

“Ah okay, that’s good then.” Time to wrap it up. She’d asked the question she’d intended, and he’d answered. “Well, if there’s anything else I can do— we can do—don’t hesitate to reach out, okay? I hope you feel better.” She readied herself for his goodbye, but instead there was a pause.

Finally, he cleared his throat again. “Well actually—and this is probably going to sound pretty out there—but I’m still in my job rental since I couldn’t drive home to Bellingham like this, and I don’t have any food left. Is there any chance you’d be able to drop off a bag with the basics outside my door and maybe some cold meds? I’ll send you money. It’s just I… I’d be super grateful because I don’t know anyone around here. But it’s completely one hundred percent okay for you to say no.”

She knew right away that she wouldn’t, but she still paused to remind herself this meant nothing. She’d just happened to call him at a time when he was in a bind.

“Of course,” she said. “I’d be happy to. Text me your address and a list, and I’ll come by in a bit.”

He let out an audible breath. “Thank you,” he said. “You’re a lifesaver.”