This story was inspired by one of Duncombec's ideas in the "Brainstorming" thread started by Boheme.
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“Damn it, Morgan,” Jeff shook his head, exasperated, at his daughter. He was leaning forward on the worn couch, his elbows resting on the knees of his work jeans. Morgan smiled sweetly at him, nestled with her legs pulled up under her in Jeff’s LaZBoy.
“I think it’s so nice that you and Mom want to get me braces,” she said. “You always take such good care of me, Daddy. But no, I’m not going to.”
“You know Dr. Zepeda always said you needed them,” Jeff reminded her.
“I remember,” she nodded. “Dad,” she looked at him seriously, “I’m not going to start pharmacy school with braces.” Jeff shrugged, yielding the argument. Morgan stood up. “I love you, Daddy,” she bent down, kissed him on the cheek and left out the back door to her Kia parked in the grass adjacent to the driveway.
–---
“Your daughter is as stubborn as you are,” Jeff said with mock-grumpiness, pulling Carrie in for a hug when she returned from work. He kissed her, then looked down at her, smiling. His wife, short, chubby, with dark curly hair, large brown eyes, and dimples when she smiled, looked like Morgan as well.
“In general? Or are you thinking of something in particular?” Carrie asked, putting her purse on the kitchen counter.
“Both!” Jeff laughed. “But yes, in particular, I told her what you found out about your new dental insurance and that we’d decided to get her braces, since the car loan is paid off. She’s not having it.” It was Jeff’s night to cook. He pulled a reheated lasagna from the oven and set two cans of Coors on the kitchen table.
“Well, she’ll come around,” Carrie said, confidently.
“Mmm mmm,” Jeff shook his head. “She smiled at me like this and called me ‘Daddy,’” he imitated his daughter’s expression from an hour ago.
“Oh!” Carrie’s eyes widened. “She is serious. Did she say why?”
“Doesn’t want to wear braces in pharmacy school,” Jeff said, cutting his lasagna.
“I get it,” Carrie nodded. “I’m sure she wants to feel confident starting out in her career. I think she’s a little insecure about being older than most of her classmates, since she worked her way through undergrad. She probably doesn’t want to add braces to the mix.”
“But Dr. Zepeda always told us she needed braces and she’d damage her teeth without them, probably like mine,” Jeff said, plaintively.
“You’re preaching to the choir, Jeff,” Carrie took his hand across the table. “I showed you my insurance booklet, remember? I’ll talk to her about it.”
–-----
Two weeks later, Carrie and Morgan were chopping vegetables at the kitchen counter as Jeff laced up his work boots by the back door.
“Didn’t figure I’d see you up so early on your day off, honey,” he smiled at Morgan.
“Mom said we have to start the slow cooker by 8 to have the beans ready to go over to Tia’s this afternoon,” Morgan explained. “And I want to start learning some real Mexican cooking while I’m still living at home; it’s not like you’re going to teach me, Dad,” she gave him a teasing smile.
Jeff kissed Morgan’s cheek and gave Carrie a close embrace.
“I’m sorry you got called in this morning,” Carrie said.
“Me, too,” Jeff agreed. “Evidently one of the baseball coaches backed an activity bus into the gate at the bus lot and now the gate won’t work. All the busses are stuck until somebody can fix the fence.” He shrugged. “I’ll meet you at your sister’s.”
Later that afternoon, Carrie drove her car while Morgan sat in the passenger seat, holding a crockpot on her lap.
“Morgan, honey,” Carrie said, looking at her daughter in her peripheral vision. “Your Dad and I both really think you should get braces. It just makes sense right now; Dr. Zepeda always said you needed them, and now with my insurance through work...I know your father talked to you about it, but I wanted to make sure you know how I felt, too.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Morgan turned to smile at her. “That’s really sweet of you to offer. But no, I’m not going to get braces.”
“But you can only be on my insurance until you turn 26,” Carrie protested. “I checked if you would get all the orthodontic benefits even if your treatment isn’t finished by then, since it’s less than a year away and they said you do! It’s really the perfect time for you.”
“Except it’s not,” Morgan shook her head in calm disagreement. “I’m starting my pharmacy program in August. I’m not going to be showing up with braces to grad school.”
“Honey, nobody is going to think less of you if you have braces,” Carrie said. “Besides, it’s a healthcare program; how could anybody possibly judge you for taking care of your dental health?”
“You’re a good Mom,” Morgan smiled at Carrie sweetly. “I know you want the best for me. But right now, that’s not braces.”
Carrie pulled up to the curb in front of her sister’s large house. She turned to look directly at her daughter.
“Your Dad feels so guilty we couldn’t afford to get you braces back when Dr. Zepeda first recommended it...” her voice trailed off.
“Dad doesn’t need to feel guilty,” Morgan said. “Or you either, Mom. You both always worked hard and took great care of me. Not having braces doesn’t change that.”
Carrie felt her frustration rising. Morgan’s calm, polite stubbornness always drove her up the wall.
“Ahh! I can’t believe you!” Carrie vented. “I would have loved to get braces! You know how embarrassed I am about my teeth! This is such a great opportunity for you!”
“Why don’t you get braces, then, Mom?” Morgan asked, giving her a curious smile. “You’re on the insurance too,” she pointed out.
Carrie’s mouth opened to respond, then closed. She started to say something again, glaring at Morgan, then she closed her mouth again. Her expression softened. “I don’t know, I guess,” she said, her voice rising almost as if it was a question. “It never occurred to me I could,” she said, sounding surprised. “Huh!” she thought about it again. She looked back at Morgan. “I’m sorry I raised my voice, Mor.”
“I know it’s something you feel strongly about, Mom,” Morgan shrugged. “Maybe think about it for yourself?” she offered, climbing out of the car.
They carried the crockpot across the well-kept lawn, past a balloon display reading “Feliz Cumpleanos Gracie!” Carrie opened the unlocked front door and held it for Morgan.
“Tia Carrie!” Morgan heard her young cousin squeal happily. Then, “Morgan!” as she entered the kitchen. Gracie happily bounded across the expansive tile floor and gave them both an enthusiastic hug.
“Happy birthday, Gracie!” Morgan said. Her cousin, tall, thin, and gawky with an awkward, puppy-like enthusiasm that made her seem younger than 16, had always been especially close to her.
“Happy birthday, sweetie,” Carrie said. “Where should we put the beans?”
“Over there,” Gracie gestured to the granite island in the middle of the kitchen. “There’s an outlet if you need to plug it in. Everyone’s outside,” she pointed to the floor-length windows looking out on the brick patio shaded by live oaks.
“Thanks! I’ll go say hi to your Mom.” Carrie went out.
“I love your hair,” Morgan smiled at Gracie. “How’d you convince Tio to let you do it?”
“Thanks!” Gracie beamed, reaching up to wrap her hand with her glossy dark hair that cascaded past her shoulder with new hot-pink streaks. “We agreed that I had to wait until school ended for the summer. And I have to go back to my normal hair color when school starts in the fall,” she gave a silly mock-pout. “And it was also a little bit of a bribe,” Gracie admitted.
“Oh?” Morgan asked.
“For getting braces,” Gracie said, awkwardly grimacing to show her cousin the new metal brackets glued to each of her teeth, with hot-pink ligatures matching her hair. “Thanks for not making a big deal about them,” she went on. “I’m still self-conscious.”
“Well, I think you look cute with them, for what it’s worth,” Morgan said encouragingly.
Out on the patio, Morgan and Gracie circulated through a crowd of cousins, aunts and uncles and family friends, giving hugs and high-pitched greetings. Morgan found Carrie with Carrie’s sister, leaning against the railing farthest from the house.
“Hi Tia Vanessa,” Morgan waved to Gracie’s mother, walking over to them.
“Morgan! Come tell me about pharmacy school!” her aunt called back. Vanessa, Carrie’s younger sister, was tall like Gracie, but unlike her daughter, Vanessa had grown confidently into her looks. On the patio in the Houston humidity, Vanessa still looked cool and fresh in a sundress, her dark hair pulled over one shoulder and a flower above her ear. And, Morgan was surprised to discover, large, shiny metal braces that dominated her smile, with hot-pink ligatures that matched Gracie’s.
Morgan gave Vanessa a hug. “I’ll start at the end of August,” Morgan said with an excited smile. “I’m going to get an upperclassman assigned as a “big sister” later this summer to help me get oriented. I’ll be commuting over to the Medical Center, so I’m a little worried about having enough study time,” Morgan said, her brow wrinkling.
“I know you’ll do great,” Vanessa said, her lips hesitantly finding their way around the metalwork as she spoke. Morgan noticed that, unlike her cousin, her aunt’s braces had hot-pink rubberbands stretching in triangle shapes near the front of her mouth and large globs of wax smashed over several of the brackets to protect her lips.
Morgan made eye contact with Carrie and lifted an eyebrow significantly at her mother, almost imperceptibly inclining her head toward Vanessa’s braces.
Carrie mouthed, “I know, I know,” and rolled her eyes at her daughter.
“Tia,” Morgan said, giving Carrie a mischevious look that only her mother caught, “you’re so cute with your braces! I love the pink color. When did you get them?”
“The day before yesterday,” Vanessa said with an appreciative metal smile. Wrapping her lips delicately back over the braces, as if she had “fish lips,” Vanessa went on, “And thanks. I’ve always wanted to straighten my teeth, so I’m thrilled to finally start,” she said excitedly.
“Do they hurt?” Carrie asked, surprising Morgan with the genuine interest in her voice.
“No!” Vanessa said, wriggling her lips again. “I was surprised, honestly. I feel a little pressure, but it’s not even uncomfortable. My lips haven’t figured out where to go,” she said, shaking her head to herself as her upper lip snagged on a hook for her elastic just then, “but I’m assured that’s something that goes away quickly.”
“And we got matching colors, Tia!” Gracie exclaimed as she walked up. She stood next to Vanessa and grinned at Carrie.
“So cute!” Carrie laughed. “So, you two both decided to get braces together; what a great mother-daughter thing!” She looked archly at Morgan and raised an eyebrow, mimicking Morgan’s earlier expression. Morgan smiled at Carrie and rolled her eyes.
–---
“Thanks for seeing me first thing this morning, Doc,” Jeff said appreciatively, rubbing his left cheek.
“I’m glad we could take care of you quickly,” Dr. Zepeda said, leaning the dental chair back. “Miranda said the back tooth on your bottom left is hurting?”
“Yeah. I heard it crack when I bit down on fajitas this weekend – my brother in law must have overcooked them,” he said wryly.
Dr. Zepeda looked carefully in Jeff’s mouth and touched the back tooth with an instrument. Jeff winced.
“Well, I don’t think you can blame it on your brother-in-law’s cooking,” Dr. Zepeda said. “You’re right about the crack, though. That back tooth has split down the middle. It’s not fixable,” he shook his head.
“Any chance you could pull it today?” Jeff asked.
“I can,” Dr. Zepeda nodded. “And I owe it to you to explain why it happened, because it’s something that can be prevented in the future. You know how your front teeth don’t touch when you bite down?” Jeff nodded. “That’s called an open bite. It means you’re only biting on back teeth. In your case, only the very back tooth in each corner. That overloads the tooth, they wear down, and break like this one did. Unfortunately, that process is now going to start on the next tooth forward when we pull out the broken one.
“So,” he continued. “The way to fix it is to move your teeth to bite together properly so they can all share the load.”
“Braces?” Jeff clarified. Dr. Zepeda nodded. “Well, I remember you recommending that before years ago,” Jeff acknowledged. He exhaled. “I guess I ought to find out more about that; I don’t want more teeth to break.”
“I’ll give you Dr. Carter’s card on your way out,” Dr. Zepeda said.
-----
Carrie sat in her dark skirt and blazer in the busy waiting room. She’d slipped out of work early and hit the after-school crowd. The large room was divided by a tall aquarium filled with brightly-colored fish. The younger kids were mostly on the far side of the aquarium, where bean bag chairs and video game consoles attracted them. Carrie sat with the older teens and adults in the quieter area by the reception desk.
Carrie looked around, feeling a bit embarrassed, and feeling silly about feeling embarrassed. Of the dozen or so people in the soft chairs around her, about half were teenage patients. There were two women who were clearly mothers of patients – Carrie had seen them come in and seen the kids immediately swarm the video game area. The other three people seemed to be adult patients. A young man sitting by himself, listening to music on his ear pods with his eyes closed. A young woman about Morgan’s age had slipped clear aligners into her mouth when she entered the office. The other woman, wearing pink scrubs, seemed to be forty-something, like Carrie, and was trying to discretely dislodge something stuck between her metal braces with a small brush.
“Carrie? Hi!” a perky, petite young woman with a blindingly-perfect smile greeted her. “Thank you so much for coming over! I’m Annette and I’ll get some xrays and digital records for Dr. Carter, who you’ll meet in a few minutes.”
Annette, with reassuring encouragement and practiced hands, took a 3D xray of Carrie’s head, scanned her teeth with a digital scanner, and took a series of photographs while Carrie held lip retractors and mirrors in her mouth. 10 minutes later, she deposited Carrie in a small consultation room with two comfortable chairs and a large monitor on the wall showing blown-up pictures of Carrie’s teeth.
“Carrie, good to meet you. I’m Amanda Carter,” the doctor said as she slipped through the door of the room and shut it behind her. Carrie’s first impression was that Dr. Carter’s style was “nerd meets confident businesswoman.” She was thin, not especially tall, wearing a white coat over scrubs that fit well enough they were likely tailored, and fluorescent orange running shoes. She had straight brown hair pulled back in a messy ponytail and large black-rimmed glasses with lenses thick enough to magnify her eyes and the prominent crow’s feet at their corners that gave away her age. She flashed Carrie a welcoming smile. To Carrie’s surprise, Dr. Carter had a full set of metal braces on her large, white teeth, complete with orange ligatures that matched her shoes, and orange rubber bands on each side of her mouth that stretched colorfully when she spoke. To Carrie’s even greater surprise, Dr. Carter’s teeth weren’t even especially straight.
“Thanks for coming over today,” Dr. Carter went on. “So you mentioned you know Vanessa and Gracie Trevino?”
“Vanessa is my little sister,” Carrie said.
“Ahh! Yes! I totally see it!” Dr. Carter realized, her mouth opening as far as her elastics allowed. “I’ve enjoyed meeting them; it’s always fun for us when family members do treatment together. I like seeing them support each other.
“So...you came for a consultation today for yourself,” Dr. Carter said. “What concerns do you have?”
“I have always been embarrassed about my teeth,” Carrie admitted. “Because they’re so crowded and overlapping,” she pointed to her smile. “It’s never been possible to pay for braces until now, so,” she shrugged.
“Okay,” Dr. Carter nodded, thoughtfully. “Well, thank you for getting all the records with Annette. I have everything I need to come up with a treatment plan for you. It is possible to align your teeth and fix the crowding and overlapping,” she said encouragingly. “The way to do it is braces – like your sister has -along with rubber bands to connect your top and bottom jaws to help pull things to the right alignment. The entire treatment should take about 18 months.” Dr. Carter looked down at the table and found a brochure she passed to Carrie. “And you actually have really good insurance, so your insurance company will pay for most of the treatment. Where do you work, just out of curiosity?”
“ConocoPhillips,” Carrie said. “I started working there this spring. I’m just a secretary, but we have great benefits.”
“Good for you!” Dr. Carter said with a genuine metallic smile. “What questions can I answer for you?”
“None, really,” Carrie shook her head. “I saw Vanessa and Gracie this weekend, so I asked them all the questions I had about having braces. They set my mind at ease. And, if it’s not too personal, you seem to be doing well with your braces, so that helps, too.” Dr. Carter grinned.
“Yeah, I finally had to put my money where my mouth is. Or, I guess in my case, put my mouth where my money is?” she laughed. “I’m glad it helped; braces really don’t have to be a big deal.”
“How long have you had yours?” Carrie asked.
“About six months. This is actually my second time. I had my first set in dental school – my family couldn’t afford braces when I was growing up, either – and back then, orthodontists extracted teeth routinely. So I had several teeth extracted and everything retracted to line up my teeth. Now we know better when to extract teeth and when not to. For the inappropriate cases – like me – it shrinks the airway, leads to jaw pain, abnormal tooth wear. I was never really happy with my results and I was never good about wearing my retainers, so things shifted. Twenty-five years later, here we are!” she gestured to her mouth. “Right now, I’m lining my teeth up again. Eventually, we’ll re-open all the extraction spaces and correct my bite. Then replace the missing teeth with implants. So you’ll beat me to the finish line by quite a bit!” she said, not sounding upset at all.
–----
That night, Jeff sat on the bed in his boxer shorts, waiting for Carrie to finish in the bathroom. She came out in a pair of Jeff’s shorts and a bra. He admired her, enjoying the way her short wavy dark hair framed the dimples in her cheeks, how the light from the bedside table reflected on her soft olive skin, and smiling at the jiggle in her soft tummy as she walked.
“What?” she asked him, amused.
“You’re lovely,” Jeff said, kissing Carrie when she slipped into bed next to him.
“You’re silly, but thanks,” she kissed him back.
They looked at each other a bit awkwardly.
“Hey,” Jeff began, “I have something I wanted to show you...ask you about,” he blushed.
“Me too, actually,” Carrie said. She turned and reached into the drawer of her nightstand.
“This may be an easier conversation than I thought,” Jeff laughed. He held up a brochure identical to Carrie’s, with “Carter Orthodontics” printed on the cover.
“When did you see her?” Carrie asked, smiling.
“This morning, on my way to work.”
“I went this afternoon!” Carrie laughed.
“Great minds think alike. So, I guess you’d be okay with it if I got braces?” Jeff asked.
“As long as you’re okay with me doing the same,” Carrie giggled, suddenly feeling both amused and relieved. “I was worried you wouldn’t want me to get braces; wouldn’t want to see me with braces.” she blushed.
“Hey,” Jeff took her hand. “I love to see you. I’m sure I’ll love seeing you with braces. And we’ll be a matching pair,” he chuckled.
“I like that idea,” Carrie said. She leaned her head against Jeff’s shoulder.
---
Morgan waved to the young woman who walked into the Starbucks wearing a “Houston Pharmacy” school t-shirt and jean shorts.
“Morgan? Hi!” the woman said, shaking Morgan’s hand. She was a blonde about Morgan’s height with unstyled hair pulled back in a scrunchie, thick-rimmed glasses sitting on a nose that was disproportionately large for her face, and cheeks that were bumpy with acne. She gave Morgan a friendly smile. “I’m Elise, I’ll be your pharmacy ‘big sister’!”
“Great to meet you!” Morgan said, enthusiastically. “I have so many questions!”
“Go for it,” Elise settled back in the chair next to Morgan.
“Do you like pharmacy school?” Morgan asked, nervously.
“Yes, but in a weird way?” Elise shrugged, carefully considering. “I really like learning pharmacy, we have great classmates and professors, but it’s also super-stressful. There’s so much to learn. I’m starting my second year in the fall, so right now, I’m studying for our summer electives,” she gestured toward the backpack she’d dropped on the floor next to her chair, “and working full-time in a research lab. And that feels like a relaxing summer vacation compared to first year,” she grinned.
----
“So great you are doing this together!” Dr. Carter said enthusiastically, rolling on her stool between the dental chairs where Jeff and Carrie sat side-by-side. “Are you going to get matching colors for your braces?” she grinned, showing off her own orange ligatures.
“Oh!” Carrie was surprised. “I hadn’t thought about colors. What do you recommend?”
“Well, now that it’s June, a lot of our patients get Fourth of July colors, alternating red, white, and blue,” Dr. Carter said. “How about that?”
“That sounds good,” Carrie nodded. Jeff shrugged agreement.
“I’ll numb the areas where we’ll place those TADs we talked about, Jeff, then install Carrie’s braces while your anesthesia takes effect,” Dr. Carter explained. She and Annette leaned Carrie’s and Jeff’s chairs back.
–---
An hour later, Annette raised Jeff’s chair back up. His lips felt gingerly around the scratchy, bulky braces glued to his teeth. Carrie, sitting sideways on the dental chair next to him, blushed and gave him a shy smile. Her mouth seemed filled with metal. The large brackets and zigzagging wire connected her jumbled teeth and the red, white, and blue ligature elastics were quite noticeable.
“You look good, babe,” Jeff said, resting his hand on her knee. He could see her relax.
“Thanks, you too,” her lip snagged on one of the brackets as she gave a relieved smile.
“So we’re almost done,” Annettte said. “I’ll give you guys some wax and get you both started on your rubber bands. I know Dr. Carter explained how important the rubber bands are for your treatment. Jeff, yours are Impala elastics. Carrie, you’ll have Gorilla elastics,” she said, handing small plastic pouches to each of them.
“Jeff, watch how I put yours on,” Annette said, handing him a small mirror. She picked one of the rubberbands out of the pouch with an instrument and quickly connected it to hooks on Jeff’s left canine teeth and his central incisors. Then, she did the same on his right. The result was two rectangles stretching vertically at the front of his mouth. He flexed his jaw, feeling the elastics tug his mouth shut again.
“And Carrie, here are yours,” Annette explained. She deftly connected triangles at the sides of Carrie’s mouth from her canines to the next tooth back on the bottom.
“And the wax,” Annette said, holding up a small plastic package. “There’s absolutely no need to have sore lips, guys, okay?” She looked at each of them. “Just use the wax. It may look kind of silly, but it will keep you so much more comfortable. A week from now, your lips will be adjusted and you won’t need it. But this week? Just keep everything covered in wax.” She rolled a ball of wax between her fingers. “You put it on like this,” she said, demonstrating with Carrie. “Roll it up, squish the ball of wax on every top front bracket and any other bracket that is rubbing your lips. Pick it off with a fingernail before you eat and reapply after you brush.”
“Oh! That did make a difference!” Carrie slid her lips around the newly-waxed braces.
“And Dr. Carter said the rubberbands should just stay in all the time?” Jeff clarified. He flexed his jaw, feeling the elastics stretch.
“That’s right,” Annette confirmed. “Wear them 24/7. Take them out only for brushing, then put in a new pair.”
–
Jeff and Carrie grinned at each other – awkwardly, metallically – in their kitchen. Jeff pulled Carrie close.
“So, you ever kissed a braceface?” he asked her.
“No,” Carrie chuckled. “How about you?”
“I guess we’d better practice,” Jeff shrugged, with mock-helplessness.
“I guess you’re right,” Carrie kept the joking mood going. She looked up at him.
Gently, they kissed, touching their lips together. It felt good. Jeff pressed against Carrie. Their top brackets made a clicking sound as they collided. Jeff tasted the wax on Carrie’s brackets. His tongue reached around the elastics at the front of his mouth, feeling for Carrie. Her braces were rough against his tongue. He felt the rubberbands at the corners of her mouth stretch tight against his tongue. Jeff slid his hand down the waistband of Carrie’s jeans, grabbing a handful of her soft butt.
“Get a room, you guys!” Morgan said, laughing, as she walked in the back door in her work clothes. “You’re acting like teenagers,” she grinned at them, as Jeff and Carrie quickly stood up, blushing.
“Well, funny you should say that,” Carrie said, her eyes crinkling as she looked up at Jeff. “Look what we just did,” she said, giving Morgan an exaggerated smile.
Morgan looked at both her parents, grinning metallically – and a bit self-consciously – at her, and smiled at them. “Good for you!” she said. “I know you wanted to get braces, Mom. I’m glad you guys did it together.”
“Thanks,” Carrie said. She looked at Jeff, then back to Morgan. “You know, all three of us could do this together...”
“No,” Morgan shook her head decisively. “You know how I feel. I’m not going to show up at pharmacy school in braces. Not that you two don’t look cute with your braces,” she added quickly, “but no.”
–----
The summer went by quickly for Morgan. She’d picked up extra shifts at a pharmacy across town and found herself working some 7 day weeks. She justified it to herself because Elise had been very clear that there’d be no time for a job once school started. Morgan hoped she’d be able to work the occasional weekend shift during the school year, but if not, at least she’d built up a nest egg this summer.
At Vanessa’s 4th of July party, Vanessa squealed when she saw Carrie’s new braces. Gracie and Vanessa were also sporting red, white, and blue ligatures for the holiday, so Jeff, Carrie, Vanessa, and Gracie all took a set of metallic group pictures.
“Does this mean you’re getting braces, too, Morgan?” Gracie asked, excitedly. She tried to hide her disappointment when Morgan firmly said no.
In early August, Elise sent Morgan a text.
Hey, I have a first-year study guide my big sister gave me last year. When can you meet up so I can give it to you?
Morgan waved across the Starbucks to Elise, who pulled a fat 3-ring binder out of her backpack as she walked over to the table Morgan had commandeered in the back and stocked with snacks for a study session. Elise dropped the heavy binder on the table with a thud, and leaned on her elbows toward Morgan, her eyes crinkling with a smile behind her thick glasses.
“Tho, are you feeling nervouth or exthited?” she asked, surprising Morgan with a thick lisp that sprayed saliva across Morgan’s face as Elise spoke. Elise gave Morgan a wide smile and Morgan saw that since they’d met earlier in the summer, Elise had gotten full metal braces with hot-pink ligatures, and some sort of large, hot-pink plastic appliances that seemed to force her lower jaw forward and take up the space her tongue needed.
“How about both?” Morgan shrugged, laughing.
“Thoundth familiar,” Elise nodded. “Hopefully, thith will help,” she patted her hand on the binder.
“Thanks for bringing it,” Morgan said, gratefully. “Would you mind going over it with me – we don’t have to look at everything, just kind of orient me?” She pointed at the plate in the middle of the table. “I ordered cookies!”
“Ooh! Thankth!” Elise said, cheerfully picking up a chocalate-chip cookie. She opened the binder. “Tho, the binder hath a thtudy guide for every firtht-year clath,” she paused to take an awkward bite of her cookie. Morgan realized Elise’s pink appliances had plastic blocks that seemed to partially cover the biting surfaces of her upper and her lower teeth and kept her jaws far from closing completely. Elise was slowly mashing the cookie between the plastic blocks. Morgan waited patiently. “And a copy of examth from previouth yearth.”
“Wow!”
“Yeah, it’th pretty helpful,” Elise agreed. She walked Morgan through the materials, course by course. Morgan realized that Elise must be an excellent student as she obviously understood the information thoroughly, but could also explain it clearly to Morgan. They worked for almost two hours, Elise lisping and spitting as she spoke and taking prolonged pauses to laboriously mash the cookies between the blocks of her appliance.
“Oh my goodness, Elise,” Morgan gushed as they reached the end of the study guide. “You have no idea how much better I feel. Thank you!” Elise grinned at her, jaw thrust forward by the pink appliance and cookie debris mashed in her braces.
“Aww, I’m glad!” she said. “What other quethtionth do you have?” She pushed the binder across the table to Morgan and picked up her backpack.
“Well, it’s more of a personal question,” Morgan admitted, “but when did you get braces?”
“About two month ago,” Elise said. “Right after we met the other time.”
“Umm,” Morgan was hesitant, “how are you doing with them?”
“Oh!” Elise smiled broadly, “I’m glad I got them. Thethe twin blockth are thuper annoying,” she gestured to the pink appliances, “but my teeth were all crooked and it’th the perfect time to have bratheth.”
“Why’s that?” Morgan was surprised.
“Everybody in our program ith interethted in healthcare, tho it’th a thupportive group. There’th alwayth a lot of people in each clath with bratheth. Probably trying to do treatment before we apply for jobth,” Elise said, lightly.
“A lot of people have braces?” Morgan repeated.
“Oh, yeah,” Elise looked up, mentally tallying. “Probably five or ten people in every year. Why do you athk?”
“Well, because I’m going to be getting braces,” Morgan surprised herself as the words came out.
----
“It’s so nice to meet you, Morgan,” Dr. Carter said, giving Morgan a brightly-metallic smile as she slipped into the consult room. “I feel like I’m taking care of your whole extended family,” she grinned.
“I guess you almost are,” Morgan smiled back. “So, what’s the verdict?”
“Right to the point!” Dr. Carter nodded. “Okay. You have severe crowding, an overjet,” she gestured on the screen to the picture that showed Morgan’s top front teeth extending out ahead of the lowers, “and a deep bite. That can all be corrected. There are a few options to do it, but I’ll recommend one plan in particular.
“So, crowding. We can fix it by extracting teeth or making space by moving teeth. I’d prefer to treat you without extractions. The overjet can also be treated by extracting top teeth to camoflague it or by moving your top teeth back to correct it. Again, I’d recommend non-extraction.”
“I guess I’d prefer no extractions, too,” Morgan agreed.
“Great minds think alike,” Dr. Carter grinned. “You should know what we’ll do to correct everything so you can be fully informed. First, to create space, we’ll expand your jaws with appliances called expanders,” she placed two devices that looked to Morgan like metal spiders on the table. “You’re done growing, so it won’t change the size of your jaws, but will expand the teeth within the bone enough for our needs. To fix your deep bite, the top expander will have a bite plate built in to keep you from biting off your lower braces and position your jaw at the correct distance. Imagine this connected to that,” she pointed to the expander as she dropped an appliance with a U-shaped arch attached to a large, clear acrylic rectangle at the front of the U. “Last, to create more space and correct your overjet at the same time, we move your upper teeth back – thank you to Dr. Zepeda for having you get your wisdom teeth out – and the lower teeth forward. Headgear like this one,” she placed a metal facebow attached to a network of straps on the table, “will pull your top teeth back. And rubber bands will move your lower teeth forward and keep your bite from opening too much.”
“Oh!” Morgan was taken aback. This seemed like a lot of stuff to go in her mouth. She had envisioned simple braces like Gracie’s. “How long would my treatment be?”
“24-36 months, depending on how quickly your jaws line up,” Dr. Carter said. “Which of course depends on how well you wear the rubber bands and the headgear.”
“How much would I have to wear all of that?” Morgan gestured at the armamentarium on the table.
“The expanders and bite plate would be cemented on your teeth. They’d stay in place for probably half or a little more of your treatment time. The rubber bands would be 24/7 for the entire treatment. Just plan for that from day 1. Headgear would be most or all of your treatment depending on how fast your top teeth move back. You’re an adult, so I understand you’d need to do part-time headgear wear. 12 hours per day would work, especially if you were willing to wear it any more than that whenever you could, like on weekends.”
Morgan nodded. She breathed deeply, then exhaled decisively.
“Can I start today?”
