The Friday after turning 22, I met him.
A tall 6’3” gentleman.
He looked like a reincarnated confederate soldier.
The Jasper in Twilight kind.
Light blue eyes that matched his face mask.
He introduced himself to my sister and I.
I forgot his name immediately.
He leads us to the clinic and explains the agenda.
Cleaning and x-rays for my sister.
There’s an issue though.
He thinks I’m the mom.
Instead of correcting him, I go along.
I feared they wouldn’t proceed if I wasn’t the mother.
So I’m my sister’s mom.
Makes sense.
He asks some questions regarding her hygiene and health history.
I answer and say my concerns.
He nods along then takes her height and weight.
Everything looks good.
Until I begin to have a coughing fit.
Choking on my own spit.
Not Covid, I swear.
Dr. Jasper looks at me concerningly and asks, “Are you alright?”
I pat my chest and give a thumbs up.
Obviously, I’m doing fantastic.
Still concerned, he asks “Do you want some water?”
“No no no. I’m fine,” I fake a smile and assure him that I’m okay.
He gives a small nod and then gets geared up.
They commence with the cleaning.
He remarks that my sister has great teeth.
I comment, “I invested in a waterpik.”
He then says, “Oh really? I’ve never used one.”
I then ramble about how great waterpiks are.
Clearly, I’m nervous.
And a mom.
Somehow, I turned myself into a waterpik advocate.
He then focuses on my sister’s teeth and cleans them.
I chat with some dental advisors who recognize me.
They also believe that I’m a mom.
At this point, I’m not beating the allegations.
This charming, mid 20s man thinks I’m a young single mom.
Keep in mind, I’m 22.
Like the Taylor Swift song.
Once my sister’s cleaning is done, they go to take x-rays.
While that happens, I imagine my whole life with this man.
Living in the suburbs in a cute white bricked home.
I have his child who has his baby blue eyes and my black hair.
A picture perfect life.
A picture that has a rose colored filter.
The child grows up and our presumed marriage becomes strained.
We simply fall out of love.
Our child leaves for college and we decide to divorce.
No hard feelings nor hate.
Just reality and stats coming into play.
“Ma’am,” he calls out to me.
I immediately snap back into reality.
He tells me that my child’s, aka my sister’s, teeth are all swell.
There’s one tooth that they’re keeping an eye on, but nothing too concerning.
I nod and get lost in his eyes once more.
What a fool I am.
In an hour, I’ve managed to fall in, out, then in love again.
I began to question the divorce from my daydream.
I wouldn’t have filed first.
That’s for sure.
He concludes that our appointment is done.
I get up from my seat and my sister/child does the same.
Just as we’re about to leave, he looks at me one more time.
“I’ll walk you out,” he says.
Now listen.
There’s one entrance and one exit.
It’s not like we’ll get lost.
He didn’t ask but rather commanded it.
That’s probably why I filed for divorce.
So we let him walk us out.
At the door, I give him a thanks and a smile.
“Sure thing,” he says before going back in.
I turn to my sister and say, “How do you feel about having a new dad?”
She rolls her eyes and says a snarky comment under her breath.
As we rode back to her school, I rant about Dr. Jasper.
I came to the conclusion that he’s also deeply in love with me.
It’s a shame really.
He’s in love with a 22 year old single mom with a 15 year old daughter.
Poor fella.
At least my delusion is satisfied for today
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