Jace finishes up and we walk out of the office together. I forward any calls to my office to my cell phone, though I’m not anticipating any calls.
“So, after I start at the station, what are you going to do for a secretary?” I ask.
“I thought you were very adamant about being called an assistant,” he says.
“I am, but I’m sure whatever bimbo you hire is hardly going to measure up to my incredible skills.”
“You are by far,” he says, “the worst assistant I’ve ever had.”
“You do remember that Yuri got you fired from your last job, right?”
“Yeah, but at least she knew where the pens were,” he says. “I’ve got someone lined up. I still have to do a final interview, but she comes highly recommended.”
“It’s nobody I know, is it?” I ask.
“You don?
??t know anybody,” he says.
“I have friends.”
“Oh, right,” he says, “your coven. Forgive me if I don’t count the hateful women you bring over to my house as anybody.”
“They’re not hateful,” I tell him. “They’re spirited.”
“So, I was thinking,” Jace says. “After your clinical trial, maybe we could start trying to build our family a little bigger.”
This is about the only thing we argue about anymore. Okay, we argue quite a bit about a great many things, but this is the only topic that isn’t complete bullshit.
“You keep saying that we should build our family,” I tell him, “but what you’re forgetting is that it’s my vag that family’s going to have to come out of, and I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to figure out what that must be like, but I’ve seen pictures and it doesn’t look great.”
“I’m a doctor,” he says. “I’ve seen women give birth before.”
“Yeah? How was it?”
“It was thoroughly disturbing,” he says, “but I hear they give you some pretty killer drugs.”
“I’ll think about it,” I tell him.
We pull up to Mr. Landau’s house, and Jace asks me if I’m coming in.
“Why? So he can stare at my boobs while you’re doing unspeakable things to him in the name of medicine?”
“Give the guy a break,” Jace says. “He’s got cancer. He may never see a nice pair again.”
“I have a brain tumor,” I tell him. “Does that mean that I get to scope out all the junk I want?”
“Are you coming in or not?”
“Fine,” I groan, “but I’m going to have to insist on some quid pro quo.”
“Well,” Jace says, “you may have to do most of the work, but I’m sure Mr. Landau would be all right with that.”
“Not what I meant.”
Jace gets out of the car, and hesitantly, I get out as well.
We walk up to the house, and I can’t help but think how much differently my life would have been if any other doctor had walked into the room that day I had my first seizure.