Miri looked over at Rusty. Was she talking about Ben Sapphire?
“Would be so good,” Polina said.
“How did Fred get here?” Miri asked.
“Fred!” Stash said, clapping his hands. Fred barked.
The door to the inside office opened and Christina stepped out. “I’m sorry,” she said, “but we can’t allow pets in the office, not even in the waiting area.”
“Fred!” Stash said again, but Fred didn’t bark this time.
“I know it’s Fred,” Christina said. “But even Fred can’t be in the waiting room. It’s against the rules.”
Polina stood up. “Come, Stash. We take Fred for walk now.” She turned to Christina. “Please tell Miss Daisy we come back later, for ride home.” To Rusty she said, “Very nice meet you.” And to Miri, “Very nice meet you, too.”
Before Miri could say anything else Christina ushered her into the office. “We’re ready for you, Miri.”
Christina was professional around her. She clipped on the white towel over the cape, and prepared the little pleated paper cup. How did they get the pleats into the paper? Miri wondered. Was it someone’s job or was there a machine that did it? How come she’d never seen pleated cups anywhere but at Dr. O’s office? She supposed other dentists also used them. But she’d never been to any other dentist. Christina poured a small amount of Lavoris mouthwash into the cup. Miri rinsed and spit before Dr. O came in, asking, “How’s my favorite patient?” He probably said that to everyone but Miri liked hearing it anyway.
He began to poke around in her mouth, with Christina assisting. “What music would you like to hear today, Miss Mirabelle?”
Dr. O could whistle any tune, from the Top 40 to classical. Miri thought he’d surely win if he went on Arthur Godfrey’s talent show. “Surprise me,” Miri told him. And he did, whistling “How High the Moon.” Miri relaxed, closed her eyes and thought of Mason. She cringed a couple of times during the drilling of the small cavity but it wasn’t that bad. Just as Dr. O promised, she didn’t need Novocain.
When the tooth was filled and Miri had rinsed, Dr. O said, “So how are you doing, Mirabelle?”
“Okay.”
“Not worried about anything?”
“What would I worry about?” Only everything. Was he going to ask her about Natalie, and if so, what would she tell him?
“Does your jaw ever ache in the morning?”
“Sometimes.” How did he know? Please don’t tell my mother if I have a terrible disease.
“Looks like you’re grinding your teeth.”
Grinding?
“Understandable, given what you’ve been through. We can make you a device to wear at night to prevent the clenching and grinding.”
“What kind of device?”
“Just something that fits over your teeth.”
“Suppose I don’t want a device?”
“Grinding can damage your teeth.”
Damage?
“We carry anxiety in different ways.”
Anxiety?
“Tell you what. We’ll recheck in a month to see how you’re doing. Okay with you, Miss Mirabelle?”
“Okay.”
“Good.” He smiled at her. “How come I haven’t seen you around our house lately?”
“I was there on the day of…on the day of…”
“Yes, I know.” He paused. “Well, I don’t want to spoil Natalie’s surprise. She’ll want to tell you herself. She’s in New York today, at dance class.”
“But I’ll see her tonight at bowling.”
“Since when does Nat bowl?”
“She’s our scorekeeper.” Natalie couldn’t take the chance of dropping a ball, or having someone else drop a ball on her foot.
“Ah, the scorekeeper,” Dr. O said.
—
AT THE BOWLING ALLEY that night, Mason was tender, making sure her shoes fit, squeezing to check for enough toe room, just like Mrs. Kolber, choosing exactly the right bowling ball for her weight. She’d always been hopeless at bowling but now, with a few pointers from Mason, she was improving. Robo was the best in their group, gliding to the line, right foot behind her left, with a follow-through every time. Miri was paying attention to Robo’s form, keeping a picture of Robo in her mind when it was her turn and it was starting to pay off. But soon Robo would be moving and Miri would have to find someone else to follow.
When Mason stopped by their station he ruffled Miri’s hair, making the other girls sigh. Mason called her new haircut “cute” but Miri knew he didn’t really like it. She assured him it would grow quickly, an inch a month, she’d heard, and just to be sure she’d already started to gently tug it, the way she did a pair of dungarees that had shrunk in the wash. She expected to be halfway there by summer, by the time of Henry and Leah’s wedding. She was waiting until invitations went out to ask if she could invite Mason to be her date.
Mason pointed to a barrel-chested man, bowling in the next lane. “Joey Politics,” he said. “He knows everybody and everything.”