Chapter 6
In the car on the way to the dentist’s office on Wednesday morning, the earliest they could get her in, Mary tried calling Kendra. She’d left messages on Monday and Tuesday, but Kendra had never returned them. Instead of being worried, Mary simmered with anger because Kendra had spoken to Dean both days while he was at work.
At the sound of Kendra’s outgoing message now, she slammed her phone down. It fell off the passenger seat, landing on the floor mat below her.
Dean glanced at her, dropping his hand from the steering wheel to her thigh to soothe her. “Don’t be mad. It’s just the time difference.”
“She has no trouble finding time to talk to you.”
“Only because she needed money.”
Mary should have been grateful for his white lie, but it outraged her that Dean had to make excuses for their daughter. Clearly, Kendra didn’t want to talk to her.
“We’ll call from my phone when we get to the dentist.”
His words were like a sucker punch to her gut because they confirmed her worst suspicion. “So you do think she’s intentionally avoiding my calls.”
Dean lowered his window, even though the air conditioner blasted cool air on them.
“Is she mad at me?” Mary asked.
He twisted in his seat as if trying to work out a kink in his back.
Mary turned off the radio. “What did she say?” There was no point in asking if Kendra had said something to him. Mary knew she had by Dean’s constant fidgeting. He leaned his shoulder against the driver’s door as if he were trying to bump it open so he could roll out to the street and avoid this conversation.
“You might want to give her a little space.” It was his gentle tone, the one he used to break bad news.
“Give her space? She’s an ocean away.”
“She just ...” He rubbed his temple. “Don’t smother her right now is all. Let her get settled and used to being there.”
“She said I smother her?”
He stepped on the gas as if he could race away from this conversation. “That’s my word, not hers.”
The hurt and angry feelings festering in Mary ever since she’d learned Kendra was moving exploded, and the shrapnel pummeled Dean. “Smother” was not his word. It was Kendra’s. Mary was furious at him for lying, even if his fib was intended to spare her feelings. How dare her husband and daughter talk about her parenting style behind her back. “She can have all the space she needs. I won’t call her again. The two of you can talk all you want. When you visit her, I’ll stay here.”
Dean turned into the dentist’s parking lot without letting up on the accelerator. The car’s tires squealed. Momentum threw Mary against the door. Her elbow banged against the door handle, triggering her funny bone. A vibration-like feeling shot down her arm into her fingers.
Instead of parking, Dean brought the car to a stop in front of the entrance. “Call me when you’re done.”
Mary knew he’d had enough of this conversation. Of course he’d realized she was bluffing. She’d never refuse to talk to Kendra or stay behind if Dean went to visit her. She’d said those things to make him understand she was hurt, to try to persuade him to take her side instead of Kendra’s for once.
“Aren’t you coming in with me?” This probably wasn’t the best time to pick a fight with him. She usually didn’t mind going to medical appointments by herself, but today she wanted someone with her. Between the dentist’s reaction when he’d seen her wisdom teeth erupting to Darbi’s outlandish story about Mulligan magic, everything about this procedure seemed out of the ordinary.
Dean pointed across the street to the sign for the driving range. “I thought I’d hit a bucket of balls while I wait.”
Mary pushed open the passenger door without saying anything. Dean grabbed her arm. She thought he’d changed his mind or would at least wish her good luck. “Don’t forget your phone.” He reached toward the floor to retrieve it.
“If you call Kendra while I’m in there, don’t tell her about our conversation. Don’t mention me at all.”
“Come on, Mary. You’re being too sensitive.”
“I mean it.” She slammed the door and huffed up the stairs to the entrance. Before walking into the building, she glanced back at Dean. He gave her a small wave, but his furrowed forehead let Mary know he thought she was overreacting.
Mary’s leg bounced up and down as she waited in the reception area. Maybe she shouldn’t go through with this. She could manage her tooth pain with Orajel or Anbesol. To distract herself and forget about the procedure and the fact that her daughter had complained to Dean that she was smothering her, Mary pretended Darbi’s story was true. She imagined what she would do if she woke up from the procedure thirty years younger.
She’d start by visiting one of her old haunts, Clarke’s Bar and Restaurant in Faneuil Hall. Is that place even still around? In her twenties, she and her friends had spent most Saturday nights sitting at the bar there. She’d had such a crush on the bartender, Eoin, with his ginger hair and freckled skin. He spoke with a brogue that had turned Mary into a puddle.
Her phone vibrated with a text message.
Darbi: Mulligan magic is real. Don’t get your wisdom teeth out.
Mary sighed and tapped out a response. I’ve never been so excited about a dentist appointment.
Her cell shook again, this time with a phone call from Darbi. She eyed the sign above the reception desk asking patients to turn their cell phones off while in the office and hit the red ignore button.
A moment later, another text came in. Remember you always used to tease me for forgetting how old I am?
Mary slid her phone into her pocket. She wanted to go back to daydreaming about cute bartenders and being in her twenties, but her cousin’s last text gnawed at her. Darbi did get confused about her age. Unlike many women who claimed to be younger than they were, Darbi claimed to be older. When she’d moved to the States, she’d told everyone she was thirty-two. One day Mary saw her passport and discovered Darbi was really twenty-five, the same age as her. Mary asked Darbi why she’d lied about her age. Darbi had paused for an uncomfortable minute, wringing her hands. Then she’d grinned. “I look amazing for thirty-two. Not so much for twenty-five.”
The receptionist called Mary’s name. She grabbed her purse and followed the woman. Her entire body hummed. Could Darbi’s story be true? Of course not. Her nerves about this procedure were making her loopy. Music played in the hallway, Laura Branigan singing “How Am I Supposed to Live without You.” To calm her nerves, Mary softly sang along. She’d always loved this song.
In the exam room, Lindsey and Dr. Montari both greeted her with enthusiastic smiles. Mary didn’t smile back. Her stomach twisted and turned as she climbed into the chair. She wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans. The shiny silver dental instruments gleamed on the tray in front of her, reminding her of the unused tools on Dean’s dusty workbench in the basement. She stared at the forceps and imagined Dr. Montari using them with the same ineptitude that Dean used pliers. She flinched as if she could feel the pain.
I should leave now.
On the ceiling, a few of the tiles had been replaced with a mural of a hot-air balloon floating through a cloudless bright-blue sky. Thinking about being in that balloon made her more nervous. She was terrified of heights.
“Are you ready?” Lindsey asked. Without waiting for an answer, the girl lowered the chair until Mary was practically upside down. Blood rushed to her head, and her knuckles turned bright white as she hung on to the armrests for dear life. “Bring me up. Now!”
As Lindsey raised the chair, she and Dr. Montari exchanged a look.
“I’m going to give you a little something to help you relax,” Dr. Montari said.
Yes, bring on the drugs, please.
He picked up a needle and began to fiddle with it. “There’s nothing to worry about. You’ll take a nap. When you wake up, your wisdom teeth will be gone, and you’ll feel as good as new.”
Mary took a deep breath in and closed her eyes. She’d never been the best patient.
A needle pricked her arm. “Count backward from ten,” Dr. Montari said.
Her muscles loosened as she counted. The balloon floated across the sky. Mary felt as if she were riding in it. The Laura Branigan song ended, and now REO Speedwagon sang about not being able to fight a feeling. Mary had loved this song back in high school too. She was surprised music from the eighties was playing in this office with all the young people, but then she realized they’d probably put the oldies station on for her.
Something was burning. Is the office on fire? No, it’s my mouth. Her gums radiated heat. Her tongue tasted like singed popcorn. Her skin itched where the needle had poked it. She tried to scratch the spot but couldn’t lift her arm. A force held her back. The chair spun in circles around the room, each revolution bigger than the last. She thought about one of her first dates with Dean. They had gone to a carnival set up in a grocery store parking lot, and she had thrown up all over him on the Tilt-A-Whirl. She didn’t think he’d ever call her again. When he did call, she knew their relationship had staying power.
Dr. Montari said something. He sounded as if he were in a wind tunnel, and she couldn’t make out the words. She tried to speak. Her jaw wouldn’t move. She tried to open her eyes, but it was as if elephants were sitting on her eyelids. REO Speedwagon stopped singing, and Mary could no longer fight the feeling.