Pablo untied the strap and rested his right elbow casually on the chair’s arm as Gonzalez regained her breathing.
“Steady.”
“I know, dear.” Gonzalez’s eyes locked onto his eyelashes. “And?”
He held out the square half-moon machine in front of him. “Six and a half inches.”
“I don’t believe it.” She suppressed a delighted smile.
“True. I don’t lie.”
“Machines can. As we know,” she said archly.
“I only know the smile-o-meter measured five inches and three quarters two months ago and now it’s up to six.”
Her eyes narrowed above a smile. “You tricked me, Dr. Diaz.”
“You honestly believe that I can trick you, a woman of such experience.”
“And age,” she snorted. “With a child’s toy.”
“The entire Family uses this,” he said with mock severity.
“Means nothing,” she refused to concede.
“Means you’re happier lately. The muscles elevate your mood, making you…”
“Are you going to sound like one of those adverts?”
Pablo shrugged another impish grin. Someday there’d be adverts for one of his products. “You’re happier.”
“I haven’t done anything differently.”
“That’s the beauty of it. You don’t have to work at happiness. Most of our siblings still don’t get it.”
He undid her white apron.
“We’re done?” She was disappointed. Eighty-nine-years old and nothing else to do the rest of the day.
“I’ve got a waiting room full of patients, none of them as beautiful as you.”
“Grandma’s earrings, I will lose my lunch.” She chuckled. “Did you use such charms when you saw my nephew?”
Pablo busied himself finishing up her chart.
“Dr. Diaz, he’s a lovely boy.”
“I’m really busy, Mrs. Gonzalez. I don’t have time.”
“For love?”
Pablo eased her gently out of the chair. “To brush my teeth as often as I should.” He handed her a green lolly. “Remember to floss.”
“If you’ll call my nephew.” She grunted.
Pablo spritzed disinfectant spray on the chair and replaced the paper cups. He really had to find a dental assistant. The A27 receptionist knocked twice and opened the door. Past its wiggy blond head, Pablo could see the fluorescent yellow waiting room was full. Gentle humming buzzed beneath the seats. Every nine seconds the walls turned into a glistening smile that morphed into rows of perfect white teeth putting the patients inside the mouth, looking out at an HG of Pablo by his office door, warmly welcoming them with a tilt of his tooth-like head. Only the really cynical didn’t smile.
“You have two gentlemen to see you, Dr. Diaz.”
Pablo glanced at the chart.
“Not patients, sir.”
The robot stepped aside to allow two lanky men in casual light suits carrying wide brimmed hats to enter. They had that official look which made his stomach churn.
“May I help you?”
The dark-haired one nodded. “We’re from Grandma’s House, Dr. Diaz.”
Pablo squeezed his lucky aqua marble in his right pocket. “What’ve I done?”
The men exchanged curious smiles. “What do you think you’ve done?”
“Nothing at all.”
“Neither do we.” The sandy-haired man leaned against a shelf, glancing at a photo of Pablo, Puppy and Zelda at the beach in Connecticut, hair flying across their young, laughing faces. Deep tans. Deep joy. They were twenty-one, twenty-two. Why wouldn’t they laugh? “Puppy, Zelda, they well?”
Pablo tensed. The dark-haired man shot his colleague a disapproving look. “Excuse him. Sometimes he plays cop. It’s inappropriate.”
“Yes, it was.” The other man wiped dust off the picture frame and carefully placed it back on the shelf. “Then again, you’re supposed to handle all situations.”
“I’m a good dentist.”
“Very good. That’s why Grandma is considering asking you to become a Fifth Cousin.”
Pablo took a quick sip from a paper cup, swallowed a little and then rinsed and spit the rest. The men grinned.
“Sorry…” He blushed.
“Oh please,” the sandy-haired man said. “You should see the range of reactions we get, if we were allowed to say.”
“I’m honored…”
“But not too honored.” The man eyed him shrewdly.
“No,” Pablo said carefully. “Honored enough to both lead and serve.”
“Good.” The man beamed. “May we take that as an agreement to the next step?”
“Certainly,” Pablo said hoarsely.
The men nodded, pleased. The dark-haired man picked up the conversation, “As you know, you can’t say anything about this.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Because no one can ever say anything.”
“Yes. Of course,” he mumbled.
“If your receptionist asks, who are we?” the sandy-haired shot the question.
“Salesmen.”
“You put salesmen ahead of patients?”
“A recommendation of a patient. A courtesy. ”
The men exchanged pleased smiles. The sandy-haired guy continued, “You do understand this is merely asking if you’re interested. That’s all. You might never hear back. You might hear back tomorrow. We only do the asking. Others follow up.”
Pablo just nodded.
“Nice to meet you, Dr. Diaz.” The dark-haired man studied the smile-o-meter. “This really work?”
“Absolutely. Think smiles and you do.” Dr. Gerry Rosen had invented the smile-o-meter back in 2081. He’d gotten tired of his grandchildren hiding in closets or under the bed, whimpering, inspired to such behavior by Rosen jumping out from behind doors growling and threatening to eat them. His daughter wouldn’t let her children stay with him anymore until he could prove they were happy. So came the smile-o-meter, measuring the width of a smile. Both his granddaughters had permanent marks on their cheeks, but their faces—the Extra Dimple Rosen Girls—became famous when Grandma learned of the invention; she still measured her smile once a week on National Smile Day.
“I’d be happy to strap you in, sir.”
The man chuckled. “How much would that cost me?”
“It’s part of the regular initial check-up. Nothing free for anyone, of course.”
“Of course.” The men put on their hats and left.
Pablo slumped into his desk chair, head between his knees to keep it from hurtling off his neck. Cousin.
3
What about that one?” Zelda pointed at the job posting on the computer, sliding the black reading glasses further down her nose. “Two years copy writing experience.”
“About hams.”
“It starts in the fall. Perfect timing.”
Puppy rapped the screen with the back of his hand. “I don’t even eat ham.”
“Fake it,” she said evenly.
Puppy scrolled down the list. There were entry level positions, continuing the career, changing the career and his favorite category, stepping up. As
