“I’m not… You know what? Let’s just get going.”
“Because you can’t be pregnant?” she continues, needling me. “Right? At all? Are you sure?”
“Didi, come on.”
Straightening, I check myself out in the mirror. I really do wish I had a cleaner dress to wear today. I think I still look okay. I probably do.
Didi leans over to another drawer and rummages around for a second, finally straightening and producing a box with a smirk.
“Why don’t you pee on this stick?” she suggests, pushing it toward me.
“Because I’m not pregnant. I’m on the pill.”
She quirks one eyebrow. “Because you’re on the pill? Not because… you haven’t been having sex?”
“I’m on the pill, Didi,” I repeat, pushing aside the thought of that day and a half where I was not quite timely with my pills.
“So, you have been having sex?”
“You know what? Give it to me,” I reply, snatching it from her.
She leans against the sink with her arms folded, watching my every move as I unwrap the package with fumbling fingers and drop my bottom on t
he cold toilet seat. It takes a few seconds to convince my body to pee in front of her, but I make it happen just to spite her.
“There, you happy?” I ask as I snap the cap back on the dampened tip.
“I’ll be happy in about two minutes,” she shrugs. “While we wait, why don’t you tell me about who you have been boning?”
Stubbornly, I don’t want to. I have been enjoying this secret all by myself, like a piece of candy that I could keep between my cheek and back teeth, savoring it just a tiny bit at a time. Sturgill has been crossing my mind like a ghost, just dropping into scenes where he doesn’t even seem to belong.
When my grandma’s clothes arrived, I briefly wondered what he thought of these dresses. When I pass by the clinic on my way to the subway, I briefly wonder if he has ever done clinic work in a big city. When I walk to work, I sort of expect him to turn up, just materialize in front of me.
The truth is, being around him was strangely easy. Now that I’m not, I feel like something is missing.
“Well?” Didi continues.
“You remember Dr. Warner?” I start.
Her eyes go wide with shock. “Joe! He’s like ninety years old!”
“No! Wait!” I laugh, holding my hands up. “No… Boss Warner is retired. But his son, Sturgill—”
“Dr. Stud?” she asks incredulously.
“Do people really call him that?” I marvel. “I could have sworn that his nurse called him that, but then I thought, no—”
“No, wait, go back!” she insists. “Are you being serious with me right now? This really happened? You had sex? Actual sex? With Dr. Stud?”
I just shrug mischievously.
Didi’s mouth opens as she processes this information.
“Hold on, did you get a lady treatment?” she asks slowly, her eyes accusing me.
I just shrug again. Didi grabs my upper arm and shakes me.
“No, you have to tell me! Did you? Did you get your lady parts treated?”