Enter Passcode
Her fingers lingered on his arm for only an instant, but it was still far too long for my liking. It made me uncomfortable. I didn’t like that it made me uncomfortable. It felt suspicious. I was feeling suspicious, and I didn’t want to be. It wasn’t even an intentional contact, just an accidental glance. I didn’t want to be bothered by it. They were laughing now. I couldn’t hear what they were saying from where I was seated, on the far side of the room opposite the reception desk. She told me I wasn’t allowed to stand up there with him; gave an excuse about HIPPA rules or something. She said it was because he’s legally an adult and I wasn’t his guardian or spouse and it was privileged information. Apparently pediatric dentists are strict about privacy. She was insistent. I didn’t want to make a scene. But I’m sure there were certainly plenty of harmless reasons for the two of them to be laughing over there together -- the whole situation was a bit absurd; spending the morning of my twentieth birthday at the north side SmileyKiDz watching a receptionist flirt with my boyfriend while the giant cartoon octopus on the wall behind him smirks at me.
I wasn’t mad at Daniel for scheduling his wisdom tooth removal on my birthday. It’s not his fault that he still goes to his childhood pediatric dentist and their in-house oral surgeon only schedules surgeries at this location one Saturday a month. The surgeon said he’d already waited too long to get them out and they needed to be removed as soon as possible. We asked about scheduling the surgery at another location, on another Saturday this month, to avoid my birthday, but the surgeon’s planned long Flag Day weekend had him flying his plane to Sedona and back on sequential Saturdays. So, my birthday was the only option left. Who was going to argue with him? Not me. Certainly not Daniel.
I can’t really even blame him for still going to a pediatric dentist. SmileyKiDz serves smiles up to the age of twenty-five; he can be a patient for as long as he’s still on his parent’s insurance, so there isn’t really an incentive for him to switch until then. He also says his dental hygienist “knows his teeth really, really well” so he gets a better cleaning here than he ever could anywhere else. He says he’ll switch to my dentist once he can’t go to SmileyKiDz anymore but the quality of his regular cleanings are going to drop dramatically once he does. He says that’s not a dig at my dentist. His cleanings would be worse anywhere else, nobody knows his teeth as well as she does. He offered to explain it further, but I wasn’t interested in hearing about some other woman’s irreproducible intimate relationship with my boyfriend’s mouth. Besides, I still go to my childhood dentist for basically the same reason. It’s not a pediatric dentist, though, it’s a family practice. I won’t have to leave when I’m twenty-five. When they wanted my wisdom teeth out, I had to go see an actual oral surgeon. I needed a referral. And there isn’t a giant mural of an octopus with teeth that greets you when you walk in. Also, I don’t get cavities.
I was ruminating again. They were laughing again. Or maybe they’re still laughing. What could be that funny? Daniel is funny. He probably said something funny, he says funny things to me all the time. In fact, he loves making me laugh, says it’s one of his favorite things in the world. I was still ruminating. I had caught myself and here I was still doing it. They were having a harmless and professional interaction. If it was flirty, it was because I was choosing to see it that way. I made the decision to look around the room, I needed to move my focus away from them. I’d been so fixated on their interaction and it’s inaccessibility to me that I hadn’t really looked around since I had sat down. I’d never been in a SmileyKiDz before and the large tooth-brush wielding octopus that sits on top of each of their buildings always made me wonder what they might look like on the inside. I had imagined some sort of dental amusement park or walls lined with large, exorbitant aquariums.
Turned out, they look no different than any other pediatric dentist’s office, or what I would imagine they all generally look like. I go to a family practice. The room wasn’t particularly small, but it was cramped. I sat in what I guess was the waiting area, a rectangular alcove adjoined to the primary reception. Chairs lining the three walls faced inward towards a low table, coloring books and neatly arranged crayon boxes waiting on top for little hands to tear into. I had chosen a seat at the end of the row of chairs, near one of the tall end tables that anchored the corners of the rooms. I had chosen it because I thought it would provide me with the best view of the reception desk. It was also unfortunate that it was also the furthest from it. I glanced back at Daniel and the receptionist again. He had his phone out on the desk and was looking for something on it. Probably his calendar. I rubbed my hands where the smooth wood of the chair met the rough carpet cushion of my seat and tried to find something else to focus on.
My eyes landed on the adjacent end table. There was a tall stack of magazines with a open-sea fishing gear catalog on top. I pushed it aside to see a big-game fishing magazine. Beneath it was sportfishing magazine. I shuffled through the half dozen magazines hoping that at least once was worth leafing through but there wasn’t, they were all the same. At bottom of the stack was a lonely MensHealth magazine, the cover featured a dehydrated man lounging on a speedboat. I straightened the magazines and left that one on top.
The entire practice was sea-themed, I guess. I wasn’t surprised. Famously, there was the mural at the entrance. There’s an smiling octopus in the reception of every SmileyKiDz and on top of every building. He’s in all their advertising. A sprawling mass of orange wrapped around a sparkling, goofy grin. He always holds a toothbrush in each of his arms. I looked past Daniel and at the octopus on the wall behind him. There were only six arms and six tooth brushes on this octopus. I wondered if every mural only had six arms. Does he always only have six arms? How many did the one on the roof have? He looked like he was pulled out of a knock-off Disney cartoon. I looked around the rest of the room. So did everything else. Every other wall was plastered with vinyl decals of various underwater flora and fauna: pastel silhouettes of jellyfish, clownfish, crabs, what I guess are anemones and of course – lots of bubbles. Ambient sea noises were playing just a little too loud over a speaker. The sounds of waves alternated between a rhythmic lapping and a frothy churning punctured by an occasional whale song or a seagull cry. My eyes had landed back on the desk. His phone was still out. They were still laughing. I told myself there was still nothing to worry about and I turned my head away from Daniel, the receptionist, and the octopus to look at the wall to my left.
Centered in the wall and nestled between a peeling vinyl toothbrush and several grinning clams was a gold-framed portrait of a balding, sunburned man holding a large fish and grinning wildly. It wasn’t a small photograph, either. The size of the print was clearly chosen to emphasize the size of the fish he was holding. It looked like a swordfish. I’d call it a swordfish anyway. It was bigger than he was and he looked proud of it. Not like a child proud of something they’ve made, but like a cat proud of what it just dropped at your feet. I didn’t like it. I looked away. I looked back toward the desk. But I let my eyes glide over the two of them. He looked like he was signing something now. I focused on the wall behind him again.
The octopus mural dominated the wall opposite the alcove where I sat watching the reception desk. Above the mural was a television screen, mounted at an awkwardly high angle to avoid the octopus and turned dramatically downward toward its anticipated audience. A muted episode of SpongeBob SquarePants was playing on the television. I watched for a few moments, but the closed captioning wasn’t on either. The characters on the screen were gesturing wildly about something to the soothing sounds of sloshing undertow. I could gather what was generally happening, something to do with a pair of boots SpongeBob was wearing. It was probably funny if I knew what anyone was saying.
I glanced back at the reception desk. They had both turned at some point and were now looking at me. He was smiling. She was smiling. Oh, good. They must be done. Daniel was already striding toward me, holding a baby blue plastic bag with a brightly colored fish stretching out a section of floss and smiling. She must have given it to him when I wasn’t looking. It was probably just paperwork. I could always go through it, he’d let me if I asked. I could also just look while he was under anesthesia. He’ll be in my care in the hours following surgery, that information was probably actually meant for me, not him. She should have let me stay with him at the desk; he's leaving in my car after all.
I kept my eyes on the receptionist as Daniel continued to cross the room. She was still watching him as she pushed her chair away from the desk, before turning, getting up and heading toward a back part of the office behind a half-wall of glass. Once she got there, she leaned over and began speaking to someone sitting at a computer in the backroom. It looked like she was looking in our direction. I could make out that she was still smiling. Was she telling them about what he said? What did he say? I broke my gaze away from her and turned my focus to Daniel. He had stopped just short from where I sat and had turned back to face the desk. He just stood there motionless for a moment. Was he looking at her? Was he trying to get her attention? He turned back toward me, a grin stretching across his face. He pointed his thumb over his shoulder towards the television.
“Squeaky Boots!”
He sunk into the seat to my right and I scooted over to allow his thigh and arm to encroach into my chair. He put the small plastic bag she gave him beside him on his seat.
“Hey Fats, you good?” Daniel asked, a genuine look of worry creeping across his face.
“Hey.” I offered in reply. I tried to look enthusiastic and unbothered, but my brow betrayed me.
“Tia? Is something wrong? If you’re worried again about the anesthesia, it’s okay; I’ll be fine.”
I didn’t answer. I turned to look at the desk again. She was going to call him back and they’d talk again. She’d come through the door the separates the office from the exam area and take him with her. I’d have no idea what she’d say to him then, or what he’d say to her. I hoped I wouldn’t hear them laughing. He traced my gaze across the room towards the desk.
“Did something happen while I was over there?”
I wanted to act like I hadn’t been bothered. I didn’t want to be bothered but I was and I didn’t know how to act like I wasn’t.
“No, it’s nothing. Nothing happened.” I pointed at the trophy photo on the wall. “This picture just weirded me out a little. The octopus, too. The sounds they have playing don't help either.”
He got out of his chair and stood in front of the portrait and stared at it. He tapped his finger several times on the man’s face and then turned to me and declared, “I think that’s the mayor,” before returning to his chair.
“Oh, I guess it is. I thought he looked familiar,” I replied. I wanted to know what they had been talking about for so long at the desk, so I just blurted it out. “What did you say that was so funny when you were up there? It looked like it was really funny, but here I couldn’t hear it over all the underwater sound effects.” I nervously awaited Daniel’s response.
“Tia,” he began, the infantilization thick in his throat. “You’re worried about me talking to her? I was telling her about the surprise I have planned for your birthday. She thought it was a really good idea. She’s excited for you!”
“Oh. I..., that’s sweet of her.” I felt ridiculous, but I pressed on anyway. I had more I needed to ask about. “But your phone? You guys had it out and were looking at it. Were you like scheduling a follow-up or something?” If it hadn’t been clear to Daniel in the first question, it had to be clear now. I wasn’t handling this well. He looked me in the eyes and wrapped his hands around mine.
“Tia, I was pulling up your phone number so I could sign a release. So you can be up there next time, so they can call you about my appointments and you can remind me about them, that sort of thing. It’s in the bag!” He briefly raised the bag that he was sharing his chair with before putting it back down. “Also after I told her about my surprise for you, she had me send her a DM on Instagram so she can connect me to her cousin. There were a few pieces of your birthday present I was still trying to get figured out and it sounds like he can help! I’ve got a good surprise planned for you this year. I’m really excited!”
I wanted to ask him more about the Instagram exchange. I wanted to ask him more about whatever he was planning for my birthday that he needed this woman’s cousin’s help in order to pull it off. I didn’t ask him any of that. “Oh,” was all that came out.
“Daniel!”
The receptionist’s voice rang out, cutting sharply through the ambient noise. She was standing at the doorway that divided the front office from the exam rooms, holding a clipboard. She saw us sitting together and started walking towards us, stopping once she passed into the waiting area where we sat.
“Daniel, you can come back now. Just head through the door take the first left and head to the second room on the right. I’ll be right in after you.” She turned to me. “He’ll be a few hours. You can wait here or we can give you a call when he wakes up and you can come back. Your call.”
“I’ll wait here.” I turned to Daniel. “Just in case you need me.”
“I’ll be fine, babe.” He reassured me. He began to follow the receptionist toward the door but hesitated and reached into his pocket to pull out his phone. Daniel walked back to where I was sitting and held his phone out. “Here, hold onto this for me. My mom is probably going to call while I’m under. She’s on her way up for your birthday. She’ll want you to give her directions to our place from the tunnel, you know she doesn’t use Maps or anything. She should know the route by now, but you can just walk her through if she needs the help, right Ti?” He dropped the phone in my hand, leaned down to kiss the top of my head and turned in the direction of the waiting receptionist and headed beyond the door.
I watched him until the door closed and then turned my attention to the phone in my hand. I stared at the darkened glass. He’d given me his phone and for the next several hours he would be unconscious with no way of knowing if I had unlocked it and poked around. There might answers to questions I didn’t want or know to ask. I didn’t want to snoop. He trusted me. I quickly double-tapped the glass. His lock screen faded into view. It was the two of us at a Halloween party last year. He was Shrek and I was Donkey. I didn’t want us to do a Shrek themed costume, but we were going to a party at his frat, and it meant a lot to him to pick our costume. I had tried to convince him to let me go as Fiona, but the theme was Best Friends, and – in his words -- Shrek and Fiona weren’t best friends, they were lovers. Shrek and Donkey were best friends.
My eyes wandered to the bottom of the screen and so did my thumb. I flicked my thumb upward quickly, and Enter Passcode flashed across the screen, below it were six empty circles. I knew his passcode. I made him change his old one. It was 80085. He thought it was hilarious. He didn’t think it was hilarious when he would lock himself out of his phone because one of the 8s or 0s got transposed in his drunken password spamming. His new one wasn’t any more secure or mature, but at least all the digits weren’t right next to each other like they were before. I pressed the lock button on the side of the phone and sent the image scuttling, my reflection weakly reflecting off the inert screen. I wasn’t going to open his phone. I didn’t want to be that person. I didn’t like being that person. What was I going to do? Look through his Instagram for the receptionist? What if he was really planning a big surprise and her cousin could help. I’d feel awful if I spoiled the surprise he’s been working so hard on. If she sent him a message, the notification would appear on the lock screen anyway. Once I knew what to search, I could go look her up on my phone.
I glanced back at the receptionist and her desk. She was back in her seat helping a woman get checked in. At the woman’s feet were two young children. The younger of the two looked like they had a toy car and was driving it quite aggressively across the carpeted floor, until they reached the wall and began driving along the various arms of the octopus. Their mother didn’t seem to notice. The other child was tugging at her sleeve, requesting something inaudible from where I sat but I imagined it was deafening up close.
I watched the woman pull her phone out of her purse and hand it to the begging child, who turned and ran full speed in my direction and dove into a seat cushion several chairs down from me, crumpling into a pile and sending their mother’s phone hurtling underneath. They crawled under and fished it out before planting themselves on the floor near the central table. I watched as the child unlocked the phone and intently searched for something on the phone. A few minutes later, the sound of SpongeBob’s laugh filled the office. The kid held the phone up and turned it toward me to show me a remote for the television on the other side of the room. They smiled at me before ferrying the phone back to their mother and returning to sit at her feet, craning their neck upwards to watch the television.
I looked back down at Daniel’s phone. At that moment, the phone began to shake and Daniel’s mother’s first and last name surged into view. A blurry photo of a flash tattoo filled the rest of the screen. I answered it.
“Hey Beatrice!” I tried to sound as upbeat and chipper as possible.
“Fatima! It’s so nice to hear your voice!” A garbled voice on the other side said. “I’m about to go in the tunnel now. Daniel usually gives me directions from here on out. I still get lost on my way to your place!”
“It’s alright.” I reassured her. “I can give you directions. I’m just waiting for Daniel to get out of surgery. They just took him back. I’m a little nervous about the whole procedure, so it might help take my mind off it. How has the drive been so far?”
“Not too bad, traffic in the tunnel is looking pretty awful, though. Hey, Fatima, promise me you’ll give me a call back if something happens and we get disconnected? My calls drop in the tunnel sometimes and it’s difficult for me to open my phone and call you back while I’m driving.”
“Yeah, of course, Beatrice, I can do that.”
“Thanks, dear. I appreciate it –“. Her voice cut off.
I found myself staring at Daniel’s lock screen again. His painted green face grinning at me. I stared at my face in the photo. I looked grey and glum. At one point that night we got separated and without a Shrek beside me, people seemed to think I was Eeyore and kept asking me where Pooh was. Everyone probably recognized he was dressed as Shrek without me next to him. I wondered if Daniel got asked where his Fiona was while he was looking for me. I wondered what he would have said. I wondered if the receptionist had seen his lock screen when he was up there talking to her.
I would have to call his mother back shortly. She’d get worried if I didn’t. Unless I wanted to get my phone out and call her, I would have to unlock his phone. I flicked my thumb upwards. Enter Passcode flashed across the top of the screen, the numeral pad neatly arranged below it. My fingers quickly danced across the first five numbers of his pass code: 6 – 9 – 4 – 2. I brought my thumb down to the bottom of the screen, over the final digit, and hesitated. I looked up at the receptionist again. The same woman was still at the desk and they were talking. She was smiling. They were laughing. The receptionist looked at me. Her eyes peering into mine she smiled at me as she slowly brushed her arm across the top of the other woman’s arm, just as she had with Daniel. I looked back down at the phone and the incomplete passcode. Beatrice was waiting for my call. I needed to call her back.