Chapter 2
danielle
“I’ll be fine,” I insisted, but I could tell my best friend and roommate wasn’t buying it.
“Your audition is next week,” she fired back, her jaw set firmly. “Don’t risk it. You’ve been hacking and clearing your throat for weeks, and you might get worse before you get better.”
“But I don’t want to go to the health center on campus. They’ll just tell me to take some Tylenol. Or they’ll want to pump me full of antibiotics. I’m allergic to everything. Besides, I don’t think I’m sick. I just have all this annoying drainage…”
“Dani, you’ve been complaining about your voice all semester,” Raine reminded me. “You got that sinus infection after winter break, and it’s never fully gone away. Why won’t you just listen to me for once and take care of yourself?”
I wrapped my arms around myself. I didn’t want to tell her the real reason. I hated doctors. Like loathed them.
I couldn’t think of anything I’d rather do less than see a doctor. I’d prefer hearing hours of nails on a chalkboard or repeatedly getting poked in the eye by a sharp stick. Seriously, doctors were the absolute worst.
“You’re such a diva!” Raine’s fists flew to her hips, and she rolled her eyes. “Look, my friend Aris’s boyfriend is an ENT. Let me text him and see if there’s any way to get you in for an appointment.”
“Wait…Aris that we met at Bonnie’s party a few weeks ago? The hot Greek guy with the man bun?” I blinked a few times as the memory of him filled my mind. I’d seen him across the room and asked Bonnie who he was.
“That’s the one. He’s gay, but, damn, isn’t he a hottie?” She fanned herself. “Anyway, his boyfriend is an equally sexy ear-nose-throat specialist.”
“Of course he is.” I rolled my eyes. Hot gay guys did often turn out to have hot gay boyfriends. Sigh. “Well, do you think he’d really be able to see me before my audition?”
“There’s only one way to find out. I’ll text Aris.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Now, you better go get some sleep. It’s already midnight!”
I rolled my eyes for approximately the hundredth time this conversation. “Sheesh, when did you become my mother?”
“Since I got tired of hearing you clear your throat and complain about not being able to sing every three minutes.” She reached out and put a hand on my arm. “Seriously, Dani, I care about you. And I want you to get a good part in the spring show. Your whole thesis depends on it, right?”
Raine and I were both grad students at Indiana University. Her specialty was costuming, and mine was musical theater. We met as undergrads and both worked for a couple of years before deciding to come back for our master’s degrees. We always got along back then, so we decided to get an apartment together. We’d grown close since we both started our MFA’s. I was sure she was worried if I didn’t figure out what was going on with my voice, it might keep me from getting my degree—or even sidetrack my whole career.
She wasn’t wrong.
She just didn’t know how much I hated doctors. However, the idea of seeing someone we sort of had a connection to made it a little better.
“Was this guy at the party too?” I asked. “The doctor boyfriend?”
Raine shrugged. “I don’t think so. I think Bonnie said he’s super serious and really focused on his work. But that’s good for you if you want to see him in a professional capacity.”
I laughed. “Well, what other capacity would I see him in? You already said he’s gay.”
She elbowed me, joining in with her own airy cackle. “You’re right. I’ll go text Aris right now.”
* * *
“Can you go see Dr. Evans at eleven forty-five?” Raine asked, poking her head into the bathroom, where I was taking a steamy shower and trying to do some vocal warm-up exercises.
My throat was still full of phlegm and ickiness.
“I have class then, but, yeah. My audition is going to suck if I can’t get this under control.” I flashed her a grateful smile. “Thank you for arranging this for me. You’re the best!”
“I know,” she agreed with a smirk. She loosened the scrunchie that held her wild mane of jet-black curls in a messy bun on top of her head. “And for my reward, I’m gonna sneak in here and brush my teeth real quick while you’re in the shower.”
I rolled my eyes. Sharing a bathroom was the only thing I didn’t like about living with Raine. Considering she’d just done me a favor, I decided to spare her eardrums and stop my warm-up exercises. I finished rinsing the conditioner out of my hair, which was so flat and non-descript next to Raine’s, just a mousy brown with nary a wave or curl.
“Let me know what Dr. Evans says, okay?” She rinsed her toothbrush and set it in the holder. “I’m going to be home early tonight. They canceled the dress rehearsal for Summer and Smoke. I guess the director and tech director got into a huge fight.”
I couldn’t help but giggle. “Wow, nothing like a little theater department drama!”
“Right? It’s so cliché…I guess their visions didn’t ‘match.’” She laughed. “Well, good luck today at the doctor. See you tonight.”
As she left, I called down the hall, “Thanks again for the hookup.”
I realized what a relief I felt at not having to go through the trouble of finding a practitioner and calling to set up the appointment. Just thinking about those steps provoked a wave of anxiety to pass over me. Now I got to skip ahead to the real stressful part: actually seeing the doctor.
To be honest, there was another step that was even worse: being greeted by the nurse and immediately ushered to the scales.
Could I stand up for myself and tell the nurse that my weight had nothing to do with my voice, and it wasn’t necessary to weigh me for this appointment?
I tried to convince myself I could.
* * *
Panic truly set in while I was waiting for the nurse to call my name. The waiting room felt like purgatory with its muted pastel decorations. I couldn’t tell if it hadn’t been updated since 1990, or if it was new décor, and they were going for retro vibes. Either way, it was not vibing with me.
I cleared my throat for the four hundredth time this morning. It had gotten to be a reflex. There was always some sort of ickiness stuck at the back of it. Raine was right; it was time to get this taken care of, and going to the health center would have been a bad idea. Seeing a doctor who specialized in this part of the anatomy was the right choice.
I just wish I didn’t hate doctors so much.
It didn’t help that, no matter what I saw a doctor for, they always had to bring up my weight. That judgmental way their eyes darted between the chart and my body, as if I were nothing more than a giant slab of adipose tissue and not a human being with a heart and a soul, it sent me into a dark place.
I’d even had overweight doctors fat-shame me before.
And recommend losing weight for maladies ranging from chronic headaches to a twisted ankle.
“Danielle?” a soft voice came from the doorway at the front of the room.
Fear rippled through me as I stood on shaky legs and made my way toward the door, which seemed very much like a portal to hell.
The nurse, who was petite with matching features and mousy brown hair, smiled. “This way please.” She led me down a hall, around a corner, and there it was: an electronic scale. My nemesis. “Do you mind getting a quick weight please?”
At first, my protest was trapped in my throat. But I cleared it again and slowly turned to her. “Is it truly needed? I’m here for my throat.”
“It’s in case we prescribe medication,” she explained.
“I can give you a recent weight,” I argued, starting to feel flustered. “I just—I don’t?—”
She smiled. “Okay.” She wrote something in the chart before her green eyes settled on me. “Right down the hall here. Room 4.”
Did I just win that battle?
Feeling slightly puffy with pride, I traipsed down the hallway to the room marked with number four. She gestured toward the paper-covered table. “Do you object to getting a temp, heart rate, and blood pressure?”
She didn’t sound sarcastic, but it would have been easy to read that into her question. “I do not object.”
She smiled again and whipped out the thermometer and the blood pressure cuff. She frowned as the cuff tightened around my upper arm. “It’s 135/85. A little high.”
“Sorry. I don’t like doctors, so my blood pressure tends to go up when I’m seeing one,” I admitted. “No offense.”
She ignored my statement. “How tall are you?”
“Five-five.”
“And that weight you promised?” Her eyes were fixed on the chart, not at me.
I gulped. “Two-seventy-five.”
Her face remained neutral, which impressed me.
She made eye contact with me finally and said, “Dr. Evans will be in to see you shortly.”
She headed out with the chart tucked under her arm and a pleasant smile. I guessed I didn’t need to take off my clothes for this appointment. He was, after all, going to be concentrating on my head. That was welcome. So far, this hadn’t been as bad as I feared.
But, as I waited, my unease started to rise again, making my heart flutter and my palms sweat. I hoped the doctor didn’t want to shake my hand or something. Swiping them both down my pants, I swallowed hard as the door handle turned.
The kindest pair of brown eyes I’d ever seen met mine. A tiny smile curved his full lips, and his jaw was outlined in a neat beard. He was a tall, broad-shouldered Black man wearing a white lab coat over a shirt and tie and charcoal-gray trousers. “I’m Dr. Evans,” he offered, extending his hand. “Nice to meet you, Danielle.”
He’d looked at my name before coming in. He didn’t have to look down at his chart to remind him who I was.
“Uh, hi.” Well, the fact that he was so handsome didn’t make this any easier. But he was gay, right? Aris’s boyfriend? Working in the theater, I was used to that kind of disappointment, but this one stung a little because, damn, he was scorching hot.
“Tell me what’s going on.” He pulled out the rolling stool and spun it to the center of the room before sitting down on it. He looked at me, not at my chart, while I spoke.
I described my symptoms, and he asked me how long I’d had them. All the standard medical interview stuff.
Then I watched the way his hands held the chart as his eyes scanned the documents inside. They were strong and manly with long fingers and nicely manicured nails, but there was also something…precise and exacting about them.
He finally looked up from the chart, meeting my eyes again. There was such kindness, such care etched on his face, my breath nearly hitched with surprise.
“I’m going to examine you now,” he announced, rising from the stool and placing the chart on the counter.
Those strong hands I’d just admired were warm against my skin as he palpated the glands in my neck. He pressed his thumbs to my forehead and sinuses. “Any pressure here?”
“Yes, some.” I expected to feel uncomfortable with his hands on my face, but his touch felt unexpectedly nice.
“I’m going to take a look in your nose, ears, and throat now.” He whipped out a tiny light from the pocket in his coat and explored each of the features he’d mentioned. His face gave away absolutely nothing as he concluded his exam with my throat.
He sat back down and pulled the chart into his lap again, jotting down a few notes.
Damn. Way to hold me in suspense, Doc. Everything he did was deliberate and methodical.
“I think we need to do some more testing,” he finally broke the silence. “But I also think you have a low-grade sinus infection that’s causing some of the drainage. Have you ever had allergy testing?”
I answered his questions, but I wasn’t sure I was hearing his words. There was something so capable, so skillful in the way he did everything. The tiniest movement of his hands, eyes, mouth seemed perfectly orchestrated to deliver the results he was aiming for, which was taking care of me.
I’d never had anyone want to take care of me.
So I’d learned to take care of myself.
“You can schedule the CT scan and endoscopy with the front desk, and I’ll see you back soon for the endoscopy, which we do here in the office. Make sure you take the entire round of antibiotics, okay?”
The careful way he enunciated his words contributed to the overall effect. I took the prescription from him as he stood up and took two steps to the door. “Have a good day, Danielle, and call the office if you need anything else.”
Then he was gone.
* * *
I was still contemplating the smooth, debonair demeanor of Dr. Evans when I left his office and headed toward the exit. I pressed the button for the elevator, which was stopped on the floor above me. Next thing I knew, the doors were sliding open to reveal a familiar face.
“Aris?” I choked out when he came into view. He was wearing pale blue scrubs that made his olive-colored skin look tan against the light fabric. His long brown hair with caramel highlights was piled on top of his head in a messy bun. I’d never seen a sexier man, and that was saying a lot since Dr. Evans was pretty fucking sexy.
Sigh. They’re perfect for each other.
“Hi!” His face immediately scrunched up with confusion. “I’m sorry… Have we met?”
I smiled. “Yes, at Bonnie’s party a few weeks ago.” I was already envisioning him and Noah side by side. What a striking couple! “I’m Danielle Delacroix. I actually just had an appointment with Dr. Evans. Isn’t he your partner?”
“Oh, yeah! I remember you now. I saw you across the room, but I didn’t get a chance to say hi. My loss, obviously. You’re Raine’s roommate, right?” When I nodded, his smile could have lit a thousand stars. “And, yes, Noah is my boyfriend. But we’re poly.”
“Poly…really…” It was a statement, not a question, but Aris’s eyebrow quirked.
He leaned forward, his lively hazel eyes roaming my face. “Surprised by that?”
“No…” I giggled but then realized I sounded like a silly teen. “I think it’s great. Not sure I could do poly, to be honest.”
The elevator opened to the lobby, and we both stepped out. I already regretted saying that about polyamory. Not only was it dismissive and judgmental, but?—
“Yeah, I get that a lot, to be honest,” he said. “Poly doesn’t work for everyone, but it works for us.”
“That’s great. Love is love, and all that.” I nodded, still feeling flustered but glad he didn’t seem upset that I’d stuck my foot in my mouth. “So do you have other boyfriends too?”
As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I realized I was not only still being rude but nosy too. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! You don’t have to answer that. I’m being a complete idiot today. Going to the doctor does that to me.” I waved the prescription Dr. Evans had written for me. “Hopefully this will cure me.”
He chuckled as we reached the automatic door, which slid open to let us out into the brisk late winter sunshine. “No other boyfriends…or girlfriends, for that matter…”
He winked before unlocking a bike from the nearby rack. He swung his leg over the frame and shot me a devastating smile. “Gotta run. See ya around, Danielle!”