My mom looks like she’s telling Dr. Monroe that someone died, instead of just informing him that I’m a perfectly normal nineteen-year-old girl. Well, as normal as I can be for someone who has her as a mother.
“I’m afraid that Elizabeth Jane is no longer chaste,” Mom continues. “I can’t trust her, and I need you to let me know the truth one way or another.”
She looks at him pleadingly, as if she’s the damsel in distress from an old country western movie.
“And I also need you to let me know if you think she’s mentally sound,” she adds, in a mumble, as if she doesn’t want me to hear her say it.
“Well, I’m no shrink,” says Dr. Monroe, with an amused smile on his face. “But I’ll let you know my basic opinion about her overall state of health and well-being, once I examine her.”
I look smugly at my mother as if to say— See!— but she’s too busy ogling Dr. Monroe to pay me any attention. And I don’t feel too triumphant, because I was hoping that Dr. Monroe would decline to accept the purpose of the appointment. I was waiting for him to tell my mother that he can’t violate HIPAA and that the state of my physical or mental health is none of her business.
It’s a small town though, and everyone gives a lot of deference to respect for parents here. People— including Dr. Monroe— all know my mother and they’ve heard her tried and true cry- me- a- river pity party about my dad walking out on her plenty of times. Dr. Monroe probably feels bad for my mom and he’s probably trying to go along with whatever she wants, just to make her feel better.
“Thank you so much, Doctor,” she says. “I had nowhere to turn.”
She’s so great at playing the victim that she should win some kind of award.
“It’s no problem at all, Shirley,” Dr. Monroe says, nodding to her as in complete deference— the traitor. “I’ve known Elizabeth Jane since she was a young girl and I only have her best interests at heart myself. I’ll be happy to thoroughly examine her for you.”
Despite myself, I feel my muscles clenching a bit down below, and some of the wetness that has been gathering there since Dr. Monroe first entered the room begins to drip out. The way he says he’s known me since I was a young girl turns me on, and I think it might turn him on too— even if that’s just wishful thinking on my part. But there’s something about the way he said that he’d “thoroughly” examine me that doesn’t sound exactly innocent.
“That’s great, Dr. Monroe,” Mom says. “I just knew you would help me out.”
My mind begins to talk me out of getting my hopes up. I’m starting to think it’s weird that he doesn’t protest more. Maybe he should tell her to stop wasting time that could be spent on other patients in need of actual medical help.
Perhaps he should tell her that this isn’t really what doctors do. But he seems to be humoring her, so I have to face the other possibility— that he’s as interested in her as she is in him.
Great, I think. I’ve masturbated to the guy who could be my future stepfather.
But I’m not too worried, because I think my mom would either start hating him just for being a man, or drive him away with her craziness, long before they could actually get married. She doesn’t seem to know any other way to relate to men.
Just then Dr. Monroe looks at me with that same mischievous look in his eyes, that lets me know I was on the right track the first time— he really is into this idea of my mom’s, because he wants to examine me. My heartbeat quickens its pace as I think about him touching me down there— not in the same way I touch myself when I think about him, but something close.
Suddenly I really want to be spreading my legs wide for him and letting him do whatever it takes to examine me the way I’m beginning to realize he knows he wants to. Dr. Monroe turns back to my mom.
“I’ll tell you what, Shirley,” he says to her. “I will do my best to examine her and give you the straight story on what I find. But it must be in private. I need doctor patient privilege.”
He quickly looks at me and then back to my mom as he says this, and there’s something in his look and in his tone of voice that makes me shiver. In a good way.
He wants to be alone with me.
“I need to leave?” my mom asks, her mouth dropping open in upset astonishment, as if he’s just told her that there’s no God.
“That would most definitely be best,” Dr. Monroe says, with a solemn nod. “I need the patient to trust me and open up to me to be able to ascertain the truth, as you want me to do.”
I’ll definitely open up for him, I think.
“I see,” says my mom, her shoulders sagging.
He’s taken the wind right out of her sails. I want to laugh, but more than that, I’m so excited to be alone with Dr. Monroe.
“Well, whatever you think is best, Doctor,” she pouts. “I certainly want you to be able to find out the truth.”
She gathers her purse from the floor beside her chair and stands up.
“And Shirley?” Dr. Monroe says, as she’s on her way out the door.
“Yes, Doctor?” She bats her eyes at him, as if he might ask for her phone number.
“It will likely take me awhile to do my thorough examination of Elizabeth Jane. You’re welcome to wait in the waiting room, but I’d suggest visiting the coffee shop across the street, or if you have any groceries to pick up or other errands to run, that would be a good use of the time too.”
“Your waiting room is just fine. I’ll bide my time there,” she says, looking as bewildered as I feel.
It’s going to take him a long time to examine me? What if…?
As my mother heads out the door, Dr. Monroe looks at me and winks, and I can barely breathe.
Could he actually be thinking about me the way I think about him? I wonder. Or is this just a fantasy I concocted in my head, as far-fetched as letting him take my virginity on his examination table?
Now that it’s just him and me, I suppose I’m about to find out.