And sometimes when you meet the right person, all you can think is what a privilege it would be to change theirs.
I didn’t want to change her, per se. I wouldn’t change anything about her, but, rather, how I could make her life better. How I could make her happy.
I pulled in my drive and, unlike when I lived in Cleveland, I didn’t second-guess the need to lock my SUV. I honestly didn’t need to. No one there even locked their houses when they went out of town. It was the strangest thing.
We didn’t really nail down what I’d make for dinner, the only logical reason I’d gone to her house, but at least I had a handle on what she wouldn’t like.
As I looked through my refrigerator, I made a mental list of the things I’d need, choosing to not go with breakfast. Maybe another night … or morning.
I also decided that I’d go in a little early, and leave a little early, the next day from work. I was only taking a few patients in the mornings, and then helping with overflow in the afternoons if there was an emergency, so it wouldn’t be a problem.
The staff in Dr. Carver’s office was great. The receptionist, Julie, was a mom of three and married to her high school sweetheart. There were also a few dental assistants, Cindy and Valerie, who were best friends and kept the atmosphere in the office energetic and full of laughter.
I was a good fit for the practice. Not to brag, but I was kind of a hot commodity in the small town dentistry community. When I began looking for a practice to either join or buy into, like I had with Dr. Carver’s, I found that someone with my skills wasn’t all that easy to come by.
I was top of my class at the University of Michigan, and extended my education into orthodontics and oral surgery. The kicker was I had experience working with implants, prosthetics, and things of that nature, which made me stand out from your typical general dentist.
I’m not usually cocky, but I kind of had a lot working for me, with respect to my profession.
Finding a place that would feel like home was a more difficult task.
I’d received many great offers, but it had come down to finding the right house in the right town. As it turned out, I loved the bungalow, and the town was turning out to be a great place to live.
The people were friendly and, regardless of their motives, genuinely interested in what was going on in your life. There weren’t many, but Wynne had just enough businesses that you really didn’t have to leave for much. People waved as you drove by and called you by name when you passed them on the street.
And O’Fallon was there.
Funny how things worked out.
The next morning flew by and I found myself checking the clock almost constantly. I was glad time was on my side and the minutes peeled off at record pace.
“I told Dr. Carver and Julie I’m heading out a little early this afternoon,” I said to Cindy and Valerie in the break room, where I found them taking their lunch break together. “I hope that doesn’t cause any issue for you guys.”
They looked at each other and laughed a little. I wondered what it was like to have a friendship that had lasted as long as theirs.
I had one good friend growing up, a friend or two from high school that I used to run into every now and then, and a few more from college, but other than that, I was solo.
“Whatcha got going on tonight, Dr. Renfro? Hot date?” teased Cindy.
I wasn’t sure what to say.
Yes, I did have a hot date, but it felt too personal telling them. It was practically our first official date and I didn’t want things getting all over town before O’Fallon was comfortable with it.
Shit, especially until I knew her first fucking name.
Then I realized they probably knew what it was. It was my chance. I could find out and then pretend to guess it sooner than later tonight.
But I couldn’t do it.
“I have plans,” I said, not going into detail. “I just wanted to make sure you knew and that someone would be here to lock up.” I’d been locking up on most nights, since I was trying to get into the groove of the office procedures.
They shared a conspiratorial look and a unison, “mmm-hmm,” and then went back to their lunches and conversation.
Just like the morning, the afternoon flew by much the same. Before long, it was three thirty and I was driving to the store.
For as small as Willard’s was, surprisingly, they had most everything. The produce was fresh and the meat counter had a great selection. It was just funny that there were only about a dozen parking spots. I smiled to myself as I watched one of the guys who worked there carrying out an elderly lady’s bags, just like a Norman Rockwell postcard.
This was a good place to live.