Page 3 of The Do-Over

“How are you today, Ms. Mayfield?” Callie, the hygienist, sank into the stool opposite the dentist and smiled. “Getting one last thing taken care of before the new insurance year, hmm?”

“Yes, actually I—”

Dr. Kelly interrupted me. “Turn up the radio. This is my favorite segment.”

Callie leaned and fiddled with the radio on the counter. A second later, a voice filled the room.

“Folks, listen up! Today for Friday Cry Day, we’re giving away two sets of tickets to Houston’s most popular local band, AB/CD, an AC/DC cover band.”

“Bro, they’re awesome,” another voice said, sounding like the Texas version of a surfer dude. “Here’s how this works. You call up and if we choose you, you break up with your significant other right here on the radio. That’s all you gotta do and the tickets are yours. Phone lines are open now.” The radio cut to a power ballad by an 80s hair band.

Dr. Kelly rubbed her hands together. “These are always hilarious.”

I smiled with the part of my mouth that wasn’t numb. It seemed a horrible way to break up with someone. If I was going to break up with my boyfriend, Brent, I’d write him a gently worded letter, or we’d meet over coffee and discuss our issues like rational adults. Perhaps an email with clear, logical reasons for the proposed split.

Not that I’d thought about it much.

Brent was a great guy—smart, driven, handsome in the slightly-balding-dad-bod sort of way, and exactly who my mother wanted me to marry. As she liked to remind me. Daily. By text. In person. An occasional email. If she could get her hands on a billboard…

“Let’s get this party started.” Dr. Kelly gloved up, slipped on giant plastic protective glasses, and picked through her instrument tray. All of this with a bit more glee than seemed necessary.

Sweat beaded on my forehead as the chair reclined. Dr. Kelly adjusted the light with its police-interrogation-level brightness until it shone in my eyes. Blinking to clear my vision, I could just make out the posters plastered on the ceiling of the room, meant to keep us captives entertained. Each featured an animal—an eagle soaring, a lion roaring, a giraffe… giraffe-ing—along with an inspirational, if slightly lame, quote.

I paused on one with a bird, a scruff of feathers sticking up on its head, and bulging, wild eyes like he’d walked in on his bird-parents in a compromising position and could not unsee it. The quote below it read, Always be yourself. You’re the only one who can.

Like I said, lame.

“Open wide,” Dr. Kelly said. She placed a contraption in my mouth to prop it open. A moment later, a cloud of tooth dust accompanied the whir of the drill, the sound scraping my nerves. I reminded myself this would be over soon. If I could survive monthly mother/daughter brunches, I could survive anything.

The song on the radio ended and the announcer, his voice deep and dramatic, returned. “Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, we have our first contestant. Tell us your name, where you’re from, and who you’re breaking up with today.”

“I’m Sheila from Houston and I wanna break up with my boyfriend, Todd.”

“What’s Todd done to deserve this?”

Sheila harrumphed. “What hasn’t he done? He’s lazy, doesn’t pay me any attention. For Christmas, he got me a vacuum cleaner. Who does that?”

Callie rolled her eyes. “I would totally kill my boyfriend if he did that.”

The whirring stopped. Dr. Kelly balanced the drill on my bottom lip. “One year, I got a toaster for Christmas. Isn’t that terrible?”

“Aaat ih errble.” My eyes crossed as I focused on the drill. What would happen if that thing slipped?

“Don’t talk, dear.”

Nodding, I twisted my hands in my lap until my fingers went as numb as my mouth.

“There’s a reason I divorced that man.” The whirring resumed. “He forgot our first anniversary. Completely forgot it. Not one single word.” She met my eyes. “Should have been my first clue, don’t you think?”

“Aaa cooos.”

Dr. Kelly’s eyes narrowed. “No talking.”

One of my hands formed a fist in frustration but I didn’t make a sound.

A voice from the radio cut in. “Okay, Sheila, stand by. We’re calling Todd now.”

The phone rang three times before a sleepy, gravel-laden voice answered. “Who’s this?”