Chapter 7
Inside of the small coffee shop Mr. Coffee, I sit in the corner. Soft French music plays over the speakers. It's a woman singing softly over some piano and accordion. I don’t know. I’m not the one who speaks French, Ryan is. And it is way too early in the morning to pretend that we are in fact in France right about now.
I am meeting with Ryan and Mark, but of course they are late, and I am early. I suppose I am the only one who understands that being on time is still important. They both have forgotten that one rule. Back in college, there were too many times, I had to bail them out during class because they slacked off so much.
The line at the counter is steadily growing as people come into receive their caffeine fix. I was never one for fancy little shops; any old coffee place is fine with me, but Ryan went to Europe about eight years ago for the first time, and ever since then, he has become some connoisseur of nicer things. I don’t get it, but Mark seems to enjoy it as well. Whenever we go out, I’m fine with drinking a bud light, while they will spend almost an hour in picking at what IPAs, how many stouts, how it was aged. Who has time to fret over how they are going to get hammered?
We haven't gone out in a while. These past four or five years have changed us. Especially, Mark becoming as well-known as he is in the medical community. His head is even larger. We are getting older now. God, I feel so old, and going out and drinking is still fun, but it's not happening every Friday like it used too. That’s for sure.
When we were Jasmina’s age, we were always going out and getting wild. Now, we are meeting for coffee. For Coffee? That’s fucking ridiculous. I’d prefer we would all play golf or something, but Mark hates it. He gets way to angry and screams. There have been several occurrences of him throwing his golf club at others, resulting in us being banned or removed from the course. Mark has always had a ballistic temper. I can’t even fathom how Jasmina lasted as long in that house as she did.
Oh, Jasmina. My thoughts shift to her. I wonder how she is doing now that she is all moved in. I should stop by and see her.
“Hey, buddy!” Ryan shouts over the music and other people enthusiastically. I turn around in the seat and see him and Mark walking through the doors.
“It’s about time,” I stand up.
“Did you order us coffee?” Mark asks, looking at the clear table in front of me with a sheer look of disdain. I pause look down then back up at Ryan and Mark.
“I thought I would wait. I had no idea what time you were actually going to be arriving, and I didn’t want to order it and then have it get cold.”
Mark frowns, but Ryan claps his hands fast and rubs them together.
“No, problem. Let’s order now.”
We get up and stand in line of the cafe. Mark adjusts his weight from foot to foot.
“My stocks went up this weeks.”
We reach the counter and take our orders. My stock went down and I really don’t feel like talking about how much money I just lost the last few days. The barista makes the coffee, and we head back to our seats. I take a long sip of the hot steaming coffee. It burns my lips.
“Ryan, are still seeing Viviane?” Mark asks. I notice the expression on Ryan’s face slightly shift.
“No. She was too much work.”
“They all are,” Mark sighs.
“Isn’t that the truth,” Ryan adds on. “She was just interested in having a sugar daddy.”
“Well, what’s wrong with that? As long as she lets you fuck her?”
Mark had such a different view of looking at things, and it is never really that good. He was not the same guy I remember from college. He leans forward and brushes at his sweater, plucking a hair off from the shoulder.
“Try having a daughter. It’s like being tied down, except she doesn’t put out.”
“Jasmina is a great girl,” Ryan defends. “You should be proud.”
Mark shakes his head.
“You don’t understand, Ryan. I spent all this time and money on her to watch her decide to become an artist.”
“She is an amazing painter. Her work really could take off,” I chime in. Mark needs to realize his daughter's potential. If he offered her support then she would be unstoppable.
“She needs a job that will take off,” Mark pauses. “I don’t want to make this morning about Jasmina. I haven't even heard from her in about a week and half. She is stupid and needs to become smart. I refuse to keep feeding her the idea that what she is doing is okay.”
“Well, she’s gotten a job,” Ryan says instantly.
“Oh?”
“She’s my new secretary.”
Mark narrows his eyes and chews on his bottom lip. We watch as he processes the information. The French music has turned to something Italian. At least, I am cultured enough to hear the difference.
‘And how is she doing?”
“She’s been working for me for two days, and has surprisingly picked everything up very well.”
“That is a shock.”
“She’s a really smart girl, Mark.”
“You would have no idea that she came from you,” I add in. Ryan and I both laugh. Mark smiles slightly.
“Right, because I am pretty stupid, being a leading surgeon.”
“Oh come on, lighten up,” I lean back in the seat. “You are so uptight all the time.”
“You don’t understand the stress I am under,” he snaps under his breath, glaring at me.
“And that’s exactly why you need to relax.”
“When was the last time you had a vacation?” Ryan asks, smoothly. Mark takes a breath and calms himself down. His temper is something else.
“I’m not sure, it’s been a while.”
“Same,” I say. “Our jobs aren't as flexible as yours, Ryan.”
“So, what you are saying is that I am the smartest guy here.” Ryan flashes that smile that causes jurors to trust him undoubtedly and laughs. Mark and I shake our heads.
“No, what we are saying though, is that our jobs require us to save people's lives.”
Ryan furrows his eyebrows.
“Christian, please enlighten us on how being an orthodontist saves people?”
“Um, without teeth people can’t eat,” I respond quickly. We break out into a burst of laughter. Mark’s hand lands on the table. I suddenly feel a pang of guilt for being so attracted to Jasmina when I helped move her in. It was as if I went behind Mark’s back by helping her move in. That is the job of a boyfriend or father, not her father’s friend. But it didn’t stop there. I wanted to be around to see her move her perfect body in that empty apartment. I twist the coffee mug in my hand. It would probably be best if I don’t say anything. I have no clue how Mark will react, but if he found out, would he be mad that I never said anything to him about helping her? Maybe I should say something.
“So, I -”
Mark’s phone rings loudly. He reaches into his pocket and pulls it out.
“This is Mark.” There is a long pause. “Mmhmm. Alright that’s fine. What time did you say. And it's today? Who told you? Okay. Okay. I can come in early. Please ask Johnson to aid in the prep. Great. Bye.” Mark stands up abruptly. “We’ve had some surgery complications arise. I’m gonna have to go in early and take care of somethings.”
“Maybe you should try and retire?” Ryan shouts at Mark, as the surgeon opens the door. Mark gives Ryan the bird through the window and gets inside of the car.
“It’s crazy to think that guy saves people's lives,” Ryan sighs.
“I know.” I finish off my coffee and throw the empty cup into the trash. “He can save other people’s lives, but not his own.”
“What?”
“I don’t know. Mark’s has some serious issues.”
“Specially, when it comes to his daughter. Well, I guess, I should go too.”
“Tell, Jaz, I say hi, and that I am sorry she has to work for you.”
“Oh, I will.”
Mark stands up, and I follow him out of the cafe and into our cars.
“I’ll stop by the office sometime soon to have lunch with you and Jaz.”
“She’d love that,” Ryan says.
“Alright, see you later.”
I arrive at my dentistry practice. A large sign of a tooth is painted on the door. I remember being a kid and hating the dentist and now I am one.
“Good morning, Dr. Sorin,” Anna greets in her sing songy voice. I smile at the warm older woman. I could have had Jasmina work here with her. But that might have been too close to medical for her. She might not have wanted it. But it would have been nice to have her sitting behind the desk waiting for me. Her bright blue eyes sparkling. If she was working for me than I wouldn’t have to worry about her so much. I’m sure Ryan is paying her well and making sure she adjusts easily.
Ryan can sometimes be aloof though and is not a very good teacher. Jasmina is a capable, smart girl. She will be fine. No, she will be better than fine. Anything she puts her mind too goes well. I lean over the desk and look at the computer.
“When’s the first appointment?” I ask.
“Gracie and Martin have cleanings around nine this morning.” I nod, tapping my fingers against the desk. Gracie and Martin are my dental hygienists. “And you have a root canal to do for nine-thirty.”
“Thanks, Anna.”
“You are very welcome. Are you feeling alright, Dr. Sorin?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Why? Do I seem off?”
“No. I wouldn’t say off, just distracted.”
“Oh,” I raise my eyebrows. “Interesting.”
“It’s probably just the summer heat. When things start to get hot outside it affects us.”
“You think so?” I ask, raising my eyebrows. The old woman nods assertively.
“Oh yeah, makes everyone all hot and moody.”
“Is this proven or just a theory.”
She shrugs.
“I’m not sure, but I always find it to be true, every summer. How about you tell me? You are the doctor.”
I shake my head.
“People are the most complicated thing to study. I know that.”