She Drives Me Crazy(66)
The receptionist greets me and asks for my appointment time. When I tell her that’s not why I’m here, she frowns dramatically and says, “Oooh, honey, we don’t need any more Girl Scout cookies. Dr. Abraham already bought twenty boxes.” She looks seriously at me and recites the next part. “Dr. Abraham cares very deeply about supporting young women.”
“Um—yeah. Funny you should mention that. I’m here to talk about Irene.”
The woman’s eyebrows jump. “Her daughter? Is she in trouble?”
“No. I’m a friend of hers, and I’d really like to speak with Dr. Abraham about something important to her. I can wait for as long as it takes.” To emphasize the point, I plop down in one of the waiting room chairs and kick back like I have all the time in the world. I even grab a magazine off the side table.
The receptionist stands up. She eyes me as she crosses to the back office where Dr. Abraham must be. “Very determined,” she says, almost like she’s impressed. “No wonder you’re friends with her daughter.”
When she returns a minute later, Dr. Abraham is on her heels. “Scottie, what’s this?” Dr. Abraham asks abruptly. “Is Irene okay?”
“She’s fine. I just wanted to ask you something.”
Dr. Abraham purses her lips. She adjusts a piece of hair that fell out of place. “All right. Follow me.”
She leads me into an examination room. We sit across from each other almost like I’m here for a real appointment. I look distractedly around at the fancy equipment and wall diagrams, trying to steel myself.
“I’m confused about you being here,” Dr. Abraham says, her shrewd eyes upon me. “Irene told me you two were on a break.”
“We are.” I clear my throat. “I’m hoping to rectify that tomorrow.”
Dr. Abraham tilts her head. “Is this one of those prom-posal things? Are you here to ask for my permission?”
“No. But I would like to ask you to come to our district championship game tomorrow. Girls’ basketball. We’re playing Candlehawk.” I sit up straight and look into her perplexed, beautiful face. “Dr. Abraham, did you know Irene changed the entire cheerleading schedule so the squad could cheer for our games instead of the boys’? She basically overruled her coach and got her entire team onboard. They started cheering at our games, and suddenly the whole school showed up to support us. Just because of her. Because of her initiative.”
The shadow of a smile graces Dr. Abraham’s face. “Yes, she’s always been tenacious.”
“She loves cheerleading. And she’s good at it. It bothers her that you think it’s a waste of time.”
Dr. Abraham pulls back. She crosses one leg over the other and regards me with a stern expression. It doesn’t scare me. I’ve seen the exact same look on her daughter’s face.
“Do you think I don’t understand how much cheerleading means to her?” Dr. Abraham asks.
“I don’t know,” I say mildly. “Maybe you do. But Irene doesn’t think you understand. She doesn’t feel like she can fully share this part of herself with you. Look, Dr. Abraham, I know I’m speaking out of turn here. I’m not trying to be disrespectful and I’m not trying to meddle. It’s just that Irene means a lot to me, and I know it would make her incredibly happy if you would come watch her cheer tomorrow. She always acts like she doesn’t need people’s validation, and maybe that’s true for the most part, but she does need yours.” A sudden memory floats back to me. “I mean, she sleeps with that old shirt of yours like it’s a teddy bear.”
Dr. Abraham closes her eyes like she’s trying not to smile. She exhales. Her body relaxes. “Yes, I do know that much. She tries to hide it from me, but I’ve seen it in her laundry pile.”
“She’s a lot like you.”
“I know.” Dr. Abraham nods in that way all moms seem to do. “She’s an incredible girl. I’m very blessed.”
“So you’ll come tomorrow?”
She looks at me with something like amusement. “Yes, Scottie, I’ll be there.” She stands up and waits for me to do the same. As she steers me to the waiting room, she says, “Thank you for coming. I can see why she likes you.” She smiles at me fully. “Nice to see that my cheerleader daughter has a personal cheerleader of her own.”
“Thanks, Dr. Abraham.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Scottie.”
It’s not until I’m passing the receptionist’s desk again that I notice the small rainbow flag sticking out of the vase in the corner. “Is that yours?” I ask.
The receptionist spins around to see what I’m asking about. “No, Dr. Abraham put that there.” She smiles knowingly at me. “She loves her daughter very much.”
* * *
The championship game dawns on a cold, rainy Friday. I wake up with a feeling like I never went to sleep.
The school day passes in a blur. Everyone has game day fever, and while I’ve experienced this feeling during football season, I’ve never felt it to this degree, not even during the Christmas Classic. People are wearing reindeer antlers in class. Student government has taped up a banner with our team pictures on it. Danielle can’t walk down the hall without our classmates hugging her. No one even mentions the boys’ basketball team, which didn’t qualify to play in the championship. For the first time in recent memory, girls’ basketball is the talk of the town.