Abright light in my eyes wakes me, and Ashlie’s voice whispers with Emily’s. I blink to see a couple of paramedics, in addition to the one blinding me.
“Hey, Willa,” the paramedic says. “Just lie here for a few minutes. When’s the last time you ate something?”
“Uh, this morning.” The blood pressure cuff on my right arm squeezes uncomfortably until a slow hiss of air eases out. I focus on the woman, lingering on her cornrows secured in a bun at the top of her head. Her name tag reads M. J. Thomas.
“Your blood pressure’s a little low. I’ll help you sit, then I want you to sip on something sweet.” M. J. calls over her shoulder,“I don’t think we need to take her in the rig, but I want her to be seen ASAP.” She helps me into a sitting position and types on a tablet.
My eyes sweep around my small studio—the lavender walls, the black and orange Halloween backdrop in the back, my tidy workspace in the corner. Everything looks like it did before, aside from the four extra people. Emily is talking with another paramedic at the counter now, sliding worried glances at me every few seconds. I suddenly remember my last clients of the day and cranemy neck to see the clock. My heart pounds in my chest as I try to stand. They’ll be here any minute, and I still need to adjust my lighting and filters.
“No, girl.” Ashlie comes toward me, carrying a can of orange soda and wearing her red director polo for the swim center. “Sit back down. Emily took care of everything. Your clients have been rescheduled. Just relax.” She squats and hands me the drink.
“What are you doing here?”
“Didn’t you write the employee handbook? Emily followed protocol and called your emergency contact.” Her eyes scan over me, eyebrows dipping with worry. “Good thing I’m just down the street. I beat the paramedics here. Why aren’t you eating, Wills?”
“I got caught up in editing.” I pop the tab and take a drink. It’s cold and fizzy but isn’t sweet. “And I haven’t really been feeling well all day. I think it’s the flu.” The next sip tastes like ass-tainted soap, and I scrunch my face. “Here, taste this.” I stick the can under her nose.
“Nuh-uh!” She juts her head back as she pushes the can away. “You’re not giving me the flu… What’s wrong with it?”
“It tastes like soap. And smells like sewage.”
Her lips scrunch, skepticism falling over her face. “I’m gonna take your word for it. Let’s get you to the doctor.”
M. J. and Ashlie help me stand, my vision fluttering as soon as I’m up. They hold me steady until the room settles, and I turn toward my desk to gather my things.
“Nope. Doctor.” Ashlie pulls me toward the door. “Emily will bring all your stuff to you tonight.”
“Ash, just let me transfer some files to my tab?—”
“No, Willa! You just passed out on the floor. Get in the damn car.”
I whip my head back to my sister. Her playful sass is gone, replaced by a furrow between her eyes and a hard set to her jaw. Ashlie and I have been rebuilding our relationship over the last few years. We’ve gotten to a good place for the most part, butwhen we disagree, heads roll. Right now, though, with that look in her eyes, I think she’ll drag me to the car kicking and screaming if I try to challenge her. And with the way I’m feeling, she’s likely to whoop my ass despite the five inches I have on her.
“Yeah, okay. Just let me grab my ba?—”
“Already got it, girl. Come on.”
“I just don’t getwhy they made me pee in a cup. Watch, they’ll come back in and tell me it’s all in my head and ask if I’ve thought about losing weight.” The rough paper crinkles underneath my legs as I shift on the rigid exam table. I’m comfortable with my curves, but doctors never find it funny when I tell themthick thighs save lives. No matter the illness, a woman can’t have any other ailments as long as she carries a little weight.
“They make everyone pee in a cup, Wills.” Ashlie doesn’t even look up from the magazine she’s flipping through while she chides me. She’s used to my ranting by now, but I can’t let it go.
“Not everyone. Everywoman. And I told the nurse I just had my period.”
“Okay, girl. You march out there and tell the doctor how to do her job. I’ll wait right here.” Her head falls to the side, but that teasing look is back in her eyes.
“I’m justsaying, doctors always think a woman is pregnant or fat. She can’t possibly have any other health problems. I didn’t eat enough today. Might be getting sick. I’m fine.”
“Whew. You’re fun when you get hangry. Here.” She hands me the crackers from my bag, and my mouth waters. “Eat these and calm your ass down.”
A quick double tap on the door after it opens is the only warning we have before the doctor comes in.Why even knock ifyou’ve already opened the door?What if I was changing in here?What kind of hospitality is that? You knock, and you wait for someone to say they’re ready before you come in.
The tall Asian woman with graying hair slides the glasses from the top of her head and sets them on her nose. “Hello… Willa Willis?”
“Hi. What’s the point of knocking?”
“Willa!” Ashlie gasps, wide-eyed. “Sorry about her, doctor. The flu has clearly made her lose her mind…”
The doctor laughs, shaking her head. “Don’t worry about it. Moodiness comes with the territory. I’m Dr. Clifford. Are you comfortable discussing your results with your…” She gestures to Ashlie.
