Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56352 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 282(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56352 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 282(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
The receptionist has surely seen it. She’s read it, and she’s shared the article with everyone on staff. Look what Doctor Nestor has been up to! A charity mission! Well, she certainly has been in the giving spirit, wouldn’t you say?
The feeling of dread quickly passed, though, and once it had left, I found myself laughing. It had been several days since I had last laughed. And perhaps due to the tension and anxiety of the past couple of days, perhaps due to the hormonal change that comes along with pregnancy, for whatever reason, once I started laughing, I couldn’t stop.
I was laughing so hard and so uncontrollably that I had to get off the road. I had to pull into a shopping center and park before I found myself laughing right into an accident. And there’s nothing funny about that.
I laughed, imagining my patients sitting in the waiting room. One of them would spot the magazine on the table. What’s this? Appalachian Orgy? She would open it to the article. Hey, that’s Doctor Nestor! That’s my dentist!
And the other patients would gather around her—or him—and they would all read the article over her shoulder, exchanging comments. Oh my! She certainly has an unusual idea of “charity.”
When she said she was taking a six-month leave to hike the Appalachian trail, I thought that was peculiar, but I had no idea that she was planning this!
Reminds me of that politician in South Carolina who would visit his mistress in Argentina and claim he was “hiking the Appalachian Trail.” She’s taken “hiking the Appalachian trail” to a whole new level!
She used to be my dentist. I let her touch my mouth. Gross. I had no idea she was this kind of a woman. Can you believe it?
She used to say to me, “open wide.” Apparently, that’s her motto, and she’s been putting it into practice. And, oh, how so!
My laughing fit eventually subsided. I wiped tears from my eyes and managed to pull myself together. Let them talk. There’s nothing I can do about it now.
Either I own it, or I fight it. But fighting it would mean admitting I’d done something wrong, and I’ve done nothing wrong. I’ve done nothing to be ashamed of.
I restarted the car and drove to my dental practice. I chuckled a few more times, but gone were the fear and the anxiety over what kind of welcome I would receive.
The practice had only one person waiting in the waiting room, and she was staring at her phone. Neither of the two girls at reception made any allusion to the article or to an Appalachian orgy. They were surprised to see me back so soon, of course. But when I explained what had brought me back and I updated them, they offered their condolences.
“Thank you,” I said. “The funeral will be on Tuesday, and I’ll be heading back to Appalachia shortly after.”
I didn’t inform them that I had no intention of returning to San Diego, that I had no intention of returning to my job. That announcement, I decided, would best be done by letter.
“I do need to speak with Mrs. Freedman,” I said, “and I don’t have her contact information. Well, I have her email, but I need her phone number. I think it’d be best if I update her by phone.”
“Of course. I’ll get that for you right away.”
I called Mrs. Freedman from the dental practice. I hadn’t thought about what I’d say or even where to begin; my thoughts had been on other matters recently. Given the recent article and my pregnancy, I wasn’t sure if it would be a good idea to continue with the thru-hike. I wasn’t sure she—or ‘Medicine on the Trail’ for that matter—would want me to. Would they want a spokesperson whose unorthodox sex life was on the cover of a national magazine?
“Hello, Mrs. Freedman. This is Holly, Doctor Nestor. I’m calling you from the dental practice.”
Our telephone conversation was short. She didn’t sound surprised to hear from me; perhaps pleased, but she also sounded harried as if I’d caught her in the middle of something important. She made no reference to the trail or the article, but she insisted we meet for lunch. I couldn’t tell if she was upset. I couldn’t get much out of her except a meeting time and a place: The Pier Grill, today at 2 pm.
I arrived ten minutes early. The prospect of facing Mrs. Freedman had me quite anxious. This was unchartered territory for me; I wasn’t used to breaking promises or failing on my commitments. Though I didn’t blame myself for the negative press, knowing I had disappointed her and potentially caused ‘Medicine on the Trail’ harm weighed heavily on my conscience.
The waiter sat me at the table reserved for Mrs. Freedman, a party of two. When he asked if I’d like a drink while I waited, I started to ask for a glass of white wine. Then I remembered I was pregnant and said I was fine with water.