Daniel by Leah Glennon

There’s a guy at my dentist’s office named Daniel, a dental hygienist, who has been there for a long time and is almost always the one who works on me when I come in for my twice a year appointments and I love him, he is so kind and gentle and smart, and makes me not dread the visit even though I have to go often because of my fucked up teeth, and I think he likes me too, nothing weird just that he likes talking with me, because over the years we have talked about everything, where we grew up, what our parents did and didn’t do right, what we thought we would do with our lives and how we feel about how they’ve turned out, and how there’s still more time and he always sounds so grateful and clear about what’s good and right and that the future is full of happy chances, that we should trust in good outcomes, and always, always we talk about our kids, how he is a father now, again, after so long, another couple of kids, what a thing at this point in his life, but it just goes to show he says, it just goes to show that the world is a beautiful place, that there are miracles waiting to happen, just waiting and I wish you could hear his voice when he says these things, because it is such a beautiful voice, he is from Ireland and even though he’s lived here for so long he still has the sweetest hint of an accent and his voice is so calming I forget why I am there, or that I’ve got a suction hose hanging out of my propped open mouth and always, after he is done working on me he says here they are, my little monsters and shows me pictures of his kids, two little boys, the last one of them in a booth at a diner, their chunky legs sticking straight out, wearing matching Izod shirts and pressed shorts, perfect little haircuts, all tidy and they are so cute I can’t stand it with their round faces, deep dimples, thick thick eyelashes and then he asks to see pictures of my boys, asks if I have any recent ones and I show him and he is impressed with their size, every time, woah, big guys, he says, went fast didn’t it, and I say yes, so fast Daniel, It’s crazy, and he tells me I’m a good mom, he says he can see that, he can tell and I thank him and say I hope so, I try to be and he says well, you’re doing fine, and it feels so good to hear that, every time it feels so good because I don’t think I’m doing fine, and I want to tell him how hard it’s been with my older boy, all along it’s been so hard and now he’s getting in trouble at school, how he’s angry, so so angry and I don’t know what to do, we’ve tried everything but he says it’s all my fault, everything that is wrong in his life is down to me and I think maybe he’s right, I think maybe there is something wrong with me, and now I have ruined my child, I have wrecked him and he is beyond fixing, and I can’t bear it, the pain is crushing, bearing down, always there, even in that dentist’s chair, my throat pinches, while Daniel says you, my friend, are what a good mother looks like, and I suck his words into my lungs, pump them through my veins, because maybe he can do magic, his words a spell that will make it all better, stupid I know, childish but I let myself hope for this, and just before he leaves the room he looks at me and smiles and says it’s all about the kids, isn’t it, it’s all for them and I say yes Daniel, you’re right, it’s all for them.

Image Credit: Flickr Creative Commons/Pete