Embarrassed (and a little thrilled) to be looked at with such daring, Amy pulled her top and coat back into place. "Where's your friend?" Amy asked. "The one who did this amazing first-aid job?"
"She's in the waiting room."
"I'm going to go tell her that you're all right, but it's going to take a while to do all the sutures. What does she look like?"
"Short, curly black hair, red cat-eye glasses, camo pants and a big black hoodie. Just call for Edison and she'll pop up."
"Edison? Okay."
And Amy left. As she walked the hall, she tried to collect her emotions. This is what she said to herself in her head as she walked: Amy, what are you doing? That is a real-live gorgeous woman in there and you are here only to stitch up her hand. You date men, you’ve never really considered a relationship with a woman and just because this beautiful, sexy, smart woman is flirting with you does not mean you’re going to change your entire life perception of how the world operates. Jordan probably flirts with everyone. It’s what gorgeous people do – they play with the rest of us because they can. Still Jordan didn’t seem like that…the way she looked at me was so disarming.
Her heart raced at the thought of Jordan’s finger on her skin. She might not ever wash there again.
It wasn't working. Amy’s pep talk with herself was having no effect on lowering her heart rate. So she did the next best thing. She stopped at a vending machine and bought a candy bar. She hurriedly unwrapped the candy and stuffed it into her mouth. She chewed, swallowed, and sighed with relief.
"See there?" she said to herself inside her own head. "I'm not a lesbian. I just was having a low blood sugar moment."
Mustaches and Mistakes
Completely unaware that she had chocolate smeared above her upper lip, Amy opened the door to the waiting room, looked out over the huddled masses and called out, "Ms. Edison? Is there a Ms. Edison here?"
Edison waved her hand in the air a la Arnold Horshack, saying, "Ooh, ooh, ooh! Tell me she'll live."
Jordan's description had been right on target except she wasn’t wearing glasses.
"She'll live," Amy said, shaking Edison's hand. "Thanks to that superior taping job of yours. It was extremely difficult to remove."
Edison stared at Amy's chocolate mustache and mistakenly thought it was a real mustache. After all, the chocolate matched Amy’s hair color. Edison’s mistake was understandable. She’d not worn her glasses. Edison thought Amy would be really pretty if she practiced hair removal.
Amy mistakenly thought Edison must be hard of hearing or maybe even deaf since she was obviously staring at her lips and trying to lip-read. So, Amy talked very, very loudly and made sure to enunciate crisply. "I. Am. Pleased. To. Meet. You. Edison."
Edison thought maybe Amy was not only hairy, but also deaf and that was why she so carefully said her words and had no volume control. Edison raised her volume to match Amy's, "It is so wonderful that you were able to become a doctor!"
"Thank you!" Amy shouted back.
Edison continued shouting, "I think it's wonderful to see people overcome their circumstances and fulfill their dreams!"
"I agree!”
"So are you going to be able to put Humpty Dumpty together again?"
"Huh?"
"Jordan's cut hand?" Edison said, making elaborate cutting gestures with her own hand.
Amy added some sewing gestures to her next sentence so Edison could understand better. "Oh, yes, I can put it back together, but it will take a while. I did not want you to worry!"
"Can I watch? I find gore fascinating!" She stared intently at Amy’s lips like a bird dog awaiting a signal.
Amy nodded enthusiastically. "I don't see why not! You can help to distract her while I sew her up!"
"If I know Jordan, you've already distracted her plenty!"
When Amy looked puzzled, Edison explained, "Jordan always notices the pretty ones!"
Amy led Edison down the hallway and since Edison was deaf and walking behind her, Amy didn't bother to keep her thoughts inside her head. "Wow. Here I am being called pretty again. Twice within five minutes. Must be some kind of record. Or maybe it's just a thing with lesbians. She said Jordan noticed pretty women. That means Jordan must be some kind of playgirl. And the way Edison said it was even more telling – like she was jealous. Is Edison her girlfriend? A better question is why am I even thinking about all this? I would have been safer and saner with Mrs. Markus' mood mole."
Edison said, "What's a mood mole?"
Amy froze. "You heard me say that?"
"Sure," Edison said, "You're the one who's deaf, not me."
"I'm not deaf," Amy said.
"You're not?"
Amy shook her head. "So if you're not deaf, why were you staring at my lips?"
Edison shuffled her feet. "I'm sorry, I know it's rude, but I've never seen a woman with a mustache before." Afraid of offending Amy, she quickly amended her words. "I mean, I've seen mustaches on women before, but not a nice, thick mustache like yours."
Amy wiped her upper lip. "It's chocolate," Amy said. She licked her finger to prove her point.
"Oh," Edison said, relieved. "Thank God, 'cause that was really scary looking."
Amy licked her upper lip. "All gone?"
Edison nodded. "Yep. Oh, and Jordan’s not a playgirl."
Amy pushed open the curtain to Jordan’s cubicle, saying, “Good to know.”
The Sex Eye
Jordan had spent her interlude away from Amy giving some serious thought to the dilemma of asking Amy out. Using all her superhuman lesbian powers, she had deduced that Amy was straight, but interested. Jordan knew that she would have to tread carefully. She would have to entice Amy without being overbearing. She would have to be coy without being standoffish. The next few minutes would have to play out like a delicate surgery.
Jordan's thoughts were interrupted when Amy led Edison inside the cubicle. "What the hell are you doing here?" she asked.
"I'm your doctor," Amy said. “Don’t you remember me?”
"Not you. Her," Jordan said, pointing with her good hand.
"I'm your distraction," Edison said, peering down at the cut hand. "Now that it's not bleeding it looks good in an awful kind of way."
"Has the medicine taken effect?" Amy asked.
"Well, I can't feel my hand anymore. It's like it's not even a part of me," Jordan said.
Amy sat in the rolling chair in front of her. "That means it's working."
Edison hovered over Amy's shoulder, fascinated with the procedure. Jordan whispered to
Amy, "I can't believe you let her come in here."
Edison leaned over even further, sticking her nose between the injured hand and Amy. "The doc asked me to distract you," Edison said.
"Actually, right now, you're distracting me," Amy said.
"Oh, sorry. I'll wait over here. Tell me when you want me to distract." Edison moved to the far side of the room and leaned against the wall.
Jordan realized that Edison being in the room with them had changed the energy. What had been there before, if indeed it had been and wasn't just a figment of her imagination, was completely different now. The room felt deflated, flat and… solid. That was it. Before it was fluid and liquid and moving, now it was solid and heavy.
"You never answered my question," Jordan said to Amy.
"What question?"
"Why you became a doctor?"
"The usual reasons, I guess," Amy said. She put Jordan's hand on a small table. She moved the instrument tray closer and brought over a lamp. She studied her task under the bright light.
"What? You're not sure of her abilities? She looks pretty competent to me," Edison said.