In with the New Baby

“Come, my love,” he says. “Let’s get lunch.”

“I want a tuna fish sandwich with chips and a pickle,” she says at the top of her voice.

“Anything for you, sweetheart,” he says.

He patiently follows her out the door.

My heart breaks. So beautiful, I think, and here I am at the top of my world and I’m bitchin’ about stupid shit?

I want to tear up but refuse to do so. I’m a fuckin’ man and not a fuckin’ wimp.

“Mr. Drake,” the nurse says and leads me into the examining room. “Amanda will be right with you.”

I just smile and watch her walk out the door as it closes smoothly and automatically behind her.

I look at the charts on the wall about the muscular system and then look out the window. Again, I’m not feeling so great about going to Texas, but I need to deal with it.

Amanda comes in and gives me a smile.

“How are you doing?” she asks.

“Good.”

She looks at me and frowns but says nothing more.

She looks over my chart.

“So, any new developments?” she asks and crosses her arms.

“Um, yeah,” I say and scratch my chest.

Suddenly I feel so hot and itchy.

“And what would those be?” she asks.

She pierces me with her eyes.

And then I remember.

“Oh, my eyes,” I say and laugh.

“Go on,” she says and sits down on the mobile stool in front of the laptop on the desk.

She moves the mouse and types something up.

“Yeah, the doctor said all I need is glasses.” I dig my hand under my t-shirt and scratch my shoulder. “Or even maybe laser surgery.”

Amanda says nothing and comes over to me.

“Do you have a rash?” she asks.

“I don’t know.”

She grabs my t-shirt at my waist and begins to pull it off me. I raise my arms and let her remove it.

I blush. Here I am a guy known for going half-naked in the ring and elsewhere and I’m embarrassed in front of this girl.

She isn’t just any girl, though. That much is for sure.

She places her stethoscope in her ears and listens to my heart. She then places them on my back and listens again.

“You’re fine,” she says. “You just seem a little stressed out.”

I say nothing and put my shirt back on. I don’t know why I’m so embarrassed in front of her.

She goes back to the laptop and types something in.

I clear my throat.

“You know, the doctor says I’ll be OK if I stop fighting.”

“Oh?” she asks without turning around.

“Yeah,” I say and cough again.

“Well, that’s up to you,” she says. “It seems to be the same story with your knee, if I remember your records right.”

“Yeah.”

I don’t feel so satisfied with her response, but I guess that’s between me and my ophthalmologist. He’s so old school, anyway. I really don’t like him and don’t want to listen to him. Just like I didn’t like when the other doctors told me to stop fighting due to my knee. It’s why I hate going to doctors.

“Listen,” I say and move around on the crinkly paper. “I know this ain’t so professional, to ask during an appointment, but I want to take you out again.”

She says nothing and clicks away at that fucking computer. I just want to throw it out the window.

“I mean, like, on a real date, for helping me so much.”

She turns around and comes over to me.

“I did nothing.”

“Yeah, you did,” I say.

She adjusts the collar and sleeves of my t-shirt which had bunched up after I put it back on so quickly. She places her hands on my shoulders.

“So, is it a date?” I ask.

“Well, like I said, I really can’t be dating my clients,” she says and walks over to the window.

She’s studying some guy who looks as if he’s locked himself out of his car.

“Maybe someone should call security,” she says lowly and to herself.

“Well, what do you say?” I ask. “Let’s make it like I’m your personal trainer and this is a business lunch. Maybe we can get more burgers but do them keto style and skip the buns.”

She looks at me for a moment and then walks to the door and places her hand on the knob.

“OK,” she says. “I would like to lose a few pounds.”

“I didn’t mean that,” I hurry to tell her. “You look great as you are. Please don’t lose those curves.”

She smiles and opens the door.

“See you then,” she says and walks out the door as it glides smoothly shut behind her.

You bet I will, I think to myself.

I push down my erection I’ve had ever since she touched my chest and walk out the door hoping no one sees how hard I am.

Chapter 12

Lincoln

I head out to the parking lot, I hope, without incident. I can’t help feeling that everyone is staring at my crotch. Not to be a braggart about it, but I have to admit I do have a huge cock and balls. It really is a kind of a joke.