Born to Make You Smile

TWO

The stale oatmeal I had for breakfast roiled in my stomach as I focused on the letter in my hands.

The three dreaded words.

Mortgage rate increase.

My head began to spin, and the walls of my house felt like they were closing in. I gripped the kitchen counter to ground myself, feeling the cold granite on my fingertips.

A beep from my phone rescued me.

Gavin: The soul train has arrived :)

I let out a long breath, then tossed the letter down beside several overdue bills.

Before leaving my house, I locked up and made my way toward the humming black Aston Martin in front of my driveway. As I opened the passenger door, the chorus of Donna Summer’s “Hot Stuff” played over the speakers.

Inhaling the scent of leather and his signature fresh and soapy aftershave, I smiled at my boss.

“Good morning, Gavin.”

“Morning, love,” he said cheerfully, adjusting the rectangular glasses on his face. “Ready for another exciting week in the world of dentistry?”

“Ready as ever.” I playfully rolled my eyes as I buckled my seat belt.

We did our secret hand gesture before we drove off. A ridiculously silly ritual he’d introduced in my first month working for him. The gesture consisted of three fist bumps, followed by interlocking and grinding our knuckles together, where he said G , and I said force .

I’d worked as Gavin’s dental assistant at his practice for the past two years. I was his right hand, his sidekick, his partner in crime. I remained a step ahead of him and just about knew what he was thinking most of the time, sometimes even before it occurred to him. It probably helped that I had known him most of my life—ever since he and his wife moved in next door. I’d initially voiced some reluctance to have him drive me to and from work daily. I insisted I could take my own car but was met with a pish-posh, you will do no such thing . Carpooling was better for the environment, after all.

“Did you sleep after the commotion last night?” he asked.

“Like a baby raccoon.”

He belted out a laugh. “I hope the rascals don’t make a return appearance tonight and give us another scare.”

Memories of our intense embrace swirled in my brain. How my nipples poked through my thin pajamas. The way he stared at my chest.

I crossed my arms over my black scrub top and kept my gaze on my feet. “Let’s hope not!”

We waited at a light, and he ran a hand through the side of his thick hair. It was mostly black with several distinguished streaks of gray. “Listen, before I forget, I have a favor to ask of you.”

I nodded. “Sure.”

“First, are you free this upcoming Saturday?”

“You know me. I’m pretty much always free.”

I was a twenty-three-year-old with the most lackluster social life in history. Lately, my best friend Dorina’s weekends revolved around her boyfriend, Will. She usually invited me out with the two of them, but I preferred to stay in and not waste money on overpriced cover charges, watered-down booze, and greasy, salt-filled appetizers.

Gavin focused his green eyes on me. “I have a function, so I was wondering if you could watch the girls that evening.”

“No problem! I’ll be there.” I enthusiastically nodded, realizing his social life was more active than mine. “What time?”

“Around six is good.”

“Want me to bring dinner?”

He signaled and moved his car into the right lane.

“That’d be great. If it’s not too much to ask, the girls have been craving your world-famous three-cheese lasagna.”

World famous . I snickered. “Their wish is my command.”

His two daughters were like family. I’d honestly do anything for them.

Suddenly, I wondered what kind of function he had to attend. I didn’t want to pry, but my curiosity was piqued.

“Will you be gone all evening?”

“I shouldn’t be too late. Just a dinner. With a friend.” He scratched his forehead.

I stared at him wide-eyed with a grin.

“All right. I have a date,” he admitted.

It was confirmed. His social life was miles above mine. But I was so pleased for him. “Gavin, look at you, that’s great!”

Gavin’s wife, Judy, passed away seven years ago after a grueling battle with cancer. Judy had been a wonderful woman—sweet, kind, caring—and her passing had been extremely difficult, especially leaving two young children behind. My mother took it especially hard as she and Judy had been best friends. I knew no one could replace his beloved late wife, but it warmed my heart to hear he was getting back out there. He deserved to find someone special again.

The man was a catch—for someone his age of course. He was a handsome and talented dentist who owned a successful practice. While a bit dorky, he was kind and charming. And, depending on how you looked at it—as baggage or a blessing—he came with two wonderful and spirited daughters.

Gavin fidgeted in his seat. “I met her a few weeks ago. She’s been divorced for several years and has a five-year-old son and...” He made a face as if to realize he may have been oversharing. “Anyhow, I’m really glad you can watch them. I’ll pay you extra for the groceries and time spent to make dinner.”

I tutted. “No way. Don't you dare.”

***

Including the bit of traffic on our way, it was about a fifteen-minute drive to work. Gavin’s dental practice was in the north part of Toronto, in a prestigious neighborhood known as Forest Hill. He whistled as he unlocked the door and disarmed the alarm system. He was always so nauseatingly sprightly first thing in the morning. On the other hand, I required my coffee fix first.

He held the door open for me, and I thanked him as the medicinal aroma of nitrile, menthol, and cloves—an odor best described as eau du dental office —entered my nose. Artwork in soothing shades of blue and gray adorned the warm cream of the office walls. Two lush planters—which Gavin and I had amusingly named Mandy and Max—sat in the corners of the reception area and brought the space to life. The environment exuded an aura of serenity and calm, like a spa. But it hadn’t always been this lovely. When I started working at Gavin’s practice, the walls had been the color of eggnog, and in my opinion, the outdated artwork belonged in an ’80s museum. Thankfully, Gavin had entrusted me with redecorating, and boy, did it make a difference.

While Gavin walked to his office, I turned on the lights, and the gentle glow illuminated the reception area. With a few tugs of the cord, I opened the blinds halfway, then booted up the main computer. I turned on the stereo system, and a relaxing but somewhat upbeat new age music station filled the office. Making my way to the break room, I started the coffee machine, then put our lunch in the fridge. Today, I brought us a tub of my hearty chicken stew with plenty of vegetables from Gavin’s garden.

While I waited for the coffee to brew, I headed to the treatment room to set up the trays for the day. The first appointment was a standard restoration for our regular patient Bill Salinger.

As I finished setting up and laying out the tools for the cavity preparation, I heard Tina, the receptionist, arrive.

“Good morning, Tina!” I shouted.

She popped her head into the room. “Hi, Grace, how was your weekend?”

“Quiet,” I said. “I read a lot. Watched a movie. Yours?”

“Shuttled the kids around, then spent all weekend listening to my mom lecture me about Fred in angry Portuguese. You know how it is.”

Tina had three children, teenage twin daughters and a ten-year-old son. She had gone through a messy divorce last year with her husband of fifteen years.

I nodded sympathetically as she went on.

“I can't believe she thinks he deserves a third chance. I’m just so sick of it.” Tina glared at the computer, the color-coded appointment schedule for the day visible on the screen. “Oh God, Bill . Good luck.”

Even with nitrous oxide, Bill was a tense patient, requesting the first appointment of the day to get it over with.

I nodded. “Poor guy is terrified of us sadists!”

Tina laughed.

The coffee was ready, so I poured a cup for Gavin—black, one sweetener, with a splash of cool water—into his blue-and-white University of Toronto Faculty of Dentistry mug. I brought it into his office and placed it in front of him.

“Thank you, love,” he said with appreciation, looking up at me.

Casually, I leaned on the edge of the desk beside him.

“You're welcome, Denis,” I deadpanned.

He let out a deep chuckle, adjusting his striped red tie. “I know. I'm a disgrace to my family.”

It wasn’t often a man born in England hated tea. Since my early days working here, I teased Gavin by calling him Denis. A dentist without the tea or the letter “T.”

He thought it was hysterical.

Thankfully, these off jokes were between us. I doubted the others would handle our absurdities without cringing.

Gavin was born in England. He came to Canada when he was sixteen, alongside his parents and two siblings. The combination of growing up with his family and spending summers in London meant he retained his English accent. Although after being in Canada for so long, his charming lilt had become slightly watered down and transformed into something so distinctly him.

He blew on his coffee, then took a sip. “Oh, I wanted to ask you. What do we think about that new x-ray film?”

“Eh.” I wobbled my head. A strand of blond curl strayed from my messy bun, and I tucked it behind my ear. “I preferred the old ones. I know these are cheaper, but they have this annoying ridge. A few patients have been complaining.”

“Agreed. Don't order them again.” He gave me a firm nod.

“But most offices are moving to digital radiography these days,” I said, urging him to keep up with the times. Before working here, I’d been an assistant at a modern dental office downtown. I tried to incorporate some of the new tech into Gavin’s practice. However, he was always a bit stubborn and set in his ways when it came to change.

“As long as it's not complicated. You know how I am with new things.” He spoke with an apprehensive furrow in his brow.

“You need to be more patient and not get flustered so easily.”

Flustered was an understatement. He was more like a disgruntled toddler on the verge of a meltdown who was barely holding it together.

“Besides, you know I’ll help you,” I assured.

I glanced down at my phone to see an email notification. The same mortgage increase letter sent electronically. As if I needed another reminder.

My stomach tightened.

“Everything all right?” asked Gavin, concerned.

Forcing a smile, I waved a dismissive hand. “Just spam.”

He groaned. “They are getting completely out of control lately.”

I heard Tina greeting a man from reception. Bill had arrived fifteen minutes early.

“I'll see if Bill wants to come in. I’ll try to settle him.”

“Set him up, then come have a quick coffee with me.” Gavin ran a finger over his clean-shaven jawline, flashing me his warm and charismatic grin. His teeth were pristinely straight and just the right shade of white. His smile was essentially a walking advert for his practice.

With a wink, I pushed myself away from his desk, then walked out to the reception area to see a seated gray-haired man bouncing his left leg at an aggressive pace.

“Good morning, Bill. You’re a bit early. Is there anything I can get you? Some water? A magazine? Perhaps a tranquilizer?”

He belted out a nervous laugh. “Grace. No, I'm good, thanks. But I'm sorry I'm so early. I just…I couldn't sleep at all last night, and sitting in my car was doing no good. Figured I'd come in.”

“We’re just about set up, so you can come into the room if you'd like. I can start the water fountain, and I’ll give you a set of headphones. You can relax until Dr. Brinley is ready for you.”

Bill enjoyed listening to classical jazz music during dental work, so I always had a playlist ready for him.

“Sure, thanks. You’re the best.” He flashed me an appreciative smile.

Something was so rewarding about making an overly anxious patient feel more at ease in a very fearful situation. I truly loved my job. The patients were wonderful, and my coworkers were like family. However, while Gavin paid me a very generous salary, the paychecks never seemed to go as far as I needed them to lately.