Bad Doctor

40

Five minutes later I’m standing in my office, looking out the floor-to-ceiling windows that offer a view few would pay to see, unless they enjoy hospital rooftops and parking garages. Everything is as gray and dingy as my life.

Rose enters the room with a shapely young woman of twenty, who’s wearing an ink-colored dress and matching jacket. She’s that beautiful shade of half-Latin, half-Anglo, with long brown hair and perfectly-manicured fingernails. She has the look of a college graduate, dressed up for a job interview, and seems familiar, like a young Jennifer Lopez, without the big caboose. Though not quite in Rose’s league, this is a gorgeous woman. If Rose were seeking a girlfriend to counterpoint her creamy white skin and raven black hair, this young lady would fill the bill.

“Dr. Gideon Box, this is Miranda Rodriguez.”

“This is awkward,” Miranda says.

“Why?”

“You don’t recognize me.”

I stare at her. I don’t come into contact with that many beautiful women, and when I do, I see them at their stylistic worst, for good reason. Their children are near death. Their features wracked by loss of sleep, worry, and fear. Understandably, hair and makeup is the last thing on their minds. Rose has the most appealing face and body I’ve ever seen. But Miranda is definitely top five.

“I’d remember you,” I say.

“Perhaps I’m mistaken,” Miranda says.

And there it was.

She looks differently now, but her voice and manner of speaking is the same.

I not only know this young lady, I fucked her two years ago.

“Please, sit down,” I say, studying her body, trying to remember what she looked like naked.

Miranda closes her eyes tightly, as if by not seeing me, I won’t see her.

Rose’s jade-green eyes are dancing. She seems amused.

I try to remember that night, two years ago. I’d been stood up by my date, and was so upset I opened a bottle of scotch and called an escort service. I said, “Charge whatever you must, but send the most beautiful woman you’ve got.” An hour later, Miranda showed up at my place.

Only she was going by the name Bailey at the time.

I’d been drinking, so the details were fuzzy the next morning, but I recalled her being wonderful in the sack and was convinced she’d be delighted to see me again. I wanted to enjoy the experience completely sober the next night, but when I called the agency they said Bailey had gone independent. I asked for her contact information, but was told, “We don’t do referrals. It’s a sure way to put ourselves out of business.”

I tried a couple of their other girls, but Bailey-Miranda-ruined me.

“Is this a bad time?” Rose says. “Because you seem distracted.”

“Not at all,” I say, unable to pull my eyes away from Miranda.

Rose says, “You can’t tell by looking at her, but Miranda’s pregnant.”

I frown. “Oh.”

“Something wrong?”

“No, of course not. It’s just-”

“Yes?” Miranda says.

“Should I congratulate you, or-”

“You can congratulate me,” Rose says.

Noting my puzzled look, she adds, “Miranda will be the birth mother of my child. As such, she’s staying with me and will continue to do so until after the child is born and becomes healthy.”

“And you’re telling me this because?”

“Miranda’s baby will be born with serious congenital heart defects.”

“That’s ridiculous. There’s no way to know that at this stage.”

“Nevertheless, it’s why I agreed to work with you. You’re going to help me save my child’s life.”

“You mean Miranda’s child.”

I look at Miranda. “You sold your baby?”

She lowers her eyes.

Rose says, “Don’t go down that road, Gideon.”

Suddenly I’ve become Gideon. But not in a good way.

“There’s no reason to believe Miranda’s baby will have heart issues,” I say.

“Did you hear me? I’ve known this half my life. It’s why I studied all these years.”

“That’s crazy. You can’t predict an unborn child’s medical condition years before it’s born. How would you even know who the father might be?”

“I knew who the father needed to be,” Rose says. “But don’t try to understand. It’s completely beyond your capacity. And anyway, you won’t remember this visit any more than you remembered me serving you birch bark tea all night in your home.”

“What? You don’t even know where I live!”

She shakes her head. “What’s important is the seed has been planted. You will accept Miranda’s surgery, and it will be the most important surgery ever performed.”

“That’s particularly dramatic,” I say.

“Just remember Miranda Rodriguez,” she says. “Miranda Rodriguez. And Dr. Box?”

“Yeah?”

“When you operate on my child, there will be no cursing.”

“Because?”

“You don’t want to piss off this baby.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“We have to go now,” Rose says.

“Wait. Miranda?”

She looks up.

“Is there any way you’d consider seeing me again?”

“No. I’m sorry.”

“Was I really that awful?”

She looks at Rose, then back at me and says, “You’re not a happy person.”

“Are you serious?”

She says nothing. Both women turn to leave.

As they walk out the door I say, “What’s so important about being happy?”