Page 28 of Perfect Mess

I needed a moment to regain my bearings. When I looked around the crowded waiting room, all the other patients were staring at me.

Every. Single. One.

“Was I snoring?” Instinctively, I wiped the drool from my chin.

The pregnant woman across from me slowly shook her head, then said, “It wasn’t snoring … exactly.”

“It was more of a moaning,” said the mom sitting with her teen daughter, who still hadn’t blinked.

“Do you need anything Mrs. Burns?” Kelsey’s face looked like she was trying not to smell a fart.

“It’s Miss,” I said. “I’m not married.” The pregnant woman, the mom, and the teen daughter all nodded as if that fact was already well understood.

I followed Kelsey out of the waiting room and into the hallway. She pointed to a scale. “If you could just step there.”

“You’re weighing me?”

“For our records, yes.”

“Does the doctor see this?”

She made the fart face again. “Is there a problem?”

“No problem.” I handed Kelsey my car keys, then I took off my shoes and handed her my phone. I considered stripping naked to shed a few extra pounds, but assumed that would be frowned upon.

Once I stepped on the scale, Kelsey meticulously documented my measurements while I cursed the bowl of ice cream and nachos I had the prior night. To be clear, the nachos weren’t on top of the ice cream, although they were in the same bowl.

“Right this way.” Kelsey started down the hall, her tight ass swaying back and forth. “So what brings you to see Dr. Thompson today, your annual checkup?”

“You’re supposed to get checked annually?” I looked down at my freshly painted feet, confused. I had never heard of annual foot exams at the podiatrist office.Maybe, because they DON’T ACTUALLY EXIST!That should have been my first clue that something was amiss. But in my blind rush to see Jack, I missed one tiny little detail in my scheming.

Kelsey wore her fart look again. “You don’t get regular checkups?”

“No, this is my first time. I thought people only went to this type of doctor when they had a problem.”

“Problem?” Kelsey’s fart look kept getting worse.

“Yes, you know, like a fungal infection or funny smells.”

Kelsey stopped. “You have a ... fungal infection? Or funny … smells?”

I laughed her off. “Me? Oh, no. No fungus here. And the last time I sniffed down there everything smelled normal. I mean, you know, as far as I can tell.” The expression on Kelsey’s face should have been my second clue that something was off. It was a mixture of terror and, well, more terror. But I was too busy looking at my perfectly pedicured foot to notice so I blindly barreled ahead. “Mine is just a little sore. I’ve been taking on so many new clients lately. Maybe I just wore it out. You know how it is, right?”

Kelsey looked like she had no idea “how it is,” at all.

“It’s always in and out, this way and that way, back and forth. And of course they want me to do EVERYTHING. I’m always bending over backwards for everyone.”

Kelsey opened her mouth as if she was going to say something, but then she just made the fart face instead.

“You’d be surprised what some clients demand these days. I mean, sure, the money’s good, but it would be nice every once in a while to prop up my feet and relax. Let them do some of the work for a change.”

Kelsey pointed to the open door of an exam room. “You’re in here.”

“Are you married?” I asked.

Kelsey hesitated for a beat before answering. “Single.”

“If you’re ever in the market, I help a lot of single women,” I explained. “I know some like to try the self service route, but you’ll get better results with a professional.”

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