Saturday morning, 6:15 AM.
I woke before the alarm again. The pattern was solidifying into habit.
Coffee. Shower. Casual clothes—it was Saturday. No need for the full professional uniform.
I ate the leftover pizza Rachel had packed for me. Cold. Straight from the refrigerator. It tasted better than it should have.
She was right. I would have forgotten breakfast.
Some things don't change.
Except they did. I was changing. Slowly. Deliberately.
The Saturday appointment was at 8:00 AM. A favor for Mrs. Chen. Her granddaughter was visiting from Boston, needed an emergency adjustment. The retainer had broken.
I could have told her to find someone in Boston. Could have said I didn't work Saturdays.
But Mrs. Chen had been patient through the wedding chaos. Had brought cookies last Christmas. Had never missed a payment.
Sometimes business was about more than just revenue.
I left the apartment at 6:45.
Decided to walk through Washington Square Park on the way to the clinic.
The morning air was cool. Early October settling into real autumn. Leaves starting to turn.
The park was quiet. Saturday morning belonged to joggers, dog walkers, and people who needed stillness before the city woke up.
The fountain ran. Water cascading. The sound almost meditative.
I sat on a bench. Gave myself twenty minutes.
Not planning. Not worrying.
Just being present.
"You're consistent."
I looked up.
A woman stood a few feet away. Professional clothes even on a Saturday—slacks, blazer, button-down shirt. Clipboard in hand. Camera around her neck. Measuring tape clipped to her belt.
"Excuse me?" I said.
"You were here Wednesday morning. Same bench. Same time, roughly."
"You were here Wednesday?"
"I'm here most mornings. Working on a drainage assessment for the city." She gestured to the fountain. "The infrastructure is failing. I'm documenting patterns to make recommendations."
"That's very specific."
"That's my job. Urban operations consulting." She adjusted her clipboard. "I notice patterns. You're a pattern. Wednesday, 6:45 AM. Today, 6:47 AM."
"I like the quiet."
"So do I." She made a note on her clipboard. "Though technically I'm here for work, not meditation."
"Technically?"
"The job could wait until 8:00 AM. I come early because I like the quiet too." She extended her hand. "Claire Whitman."
"Barry Farber."
Her grip was firm. Professional.
"You're the orthodontist," she said.
I blinked. "How did you—"
She pointed to the paper bag next to me on the bench. "Central Perk logo. Receipt stapled to the outside. Your name on it. Credit card receipt. 'Barry Farber, DDS.' I'm observant."
"Apparently."
"Occupational hazard. I see details most people miss." She checked her watch. "I should get back to work. The drainage system doesn't document itself."
"Right. Good luck with that."
She walked toward the fountain. Set up her camera. Started photographing the pipes.
I sat there another minute.
Interesting woman.
Direct. Efficient. No wasted motion or words.
Reminded me of how I wanted to run the practice.
I stood. Headed toward the clinic.
Glanced back once.
Claire was crouched near the fountain base, measuring something. Completely absorbed.
I kept walking.
The clinic at 7:30 AM on a Saturday felt different.
Quieter. No phone ringing. No ambient noise from neighboring businesses.
Just me and the space.
I unlocked the door. Turned on the lights.
Stood in the waiting room for a moment.
The magazines were still outdated. The furniture still bland. The walls still beige.
But the practice was functional. Profitable. Moving in the right direction.
Small victories.
Linda had offered to come in for the Saturday appointment. I'd told her no. This was a favor. No need to pay staff for one patient.
I could handle it myself.
I prepped the treatment room. Sterilized instruments. Set up the workspace.
At 8:00 AM exactly, the door chimed.
Mrs. Chen entered with a teenage girl. Sixteen, maybe seventeen. Anxious expression.
"Dr. Farber, thank you so much for doing this," Mrs. Chen said. "This is my granddaughter, Emily. She's visiting from Boston. Her retainer broke yesterday."
"Hi, Emily," I said. "Let's take a look."
Emily sat in the chair. Reluctant. Embarrassed.
"It happened while I was eating," she said quietly. "I know I'm not supposed to eat with it in. I just forgot."
"It happens. Don't worry about it."
I examined the retainer. The wire had snapped. Clean break. Repairable.
"I can fix this," I said. "Give me thirty minutes."
Relief flooded her face. "Really?"
"Really."
I worked in the small lab space. Spot-welded the wire. Smoothed the connection. Tested the fit.
Twenty-five minutes later, the retainer was functional again.
"How much do I owe you?" Mrs. Chen asked at checkout.
"Nothing."
"Dr. Farber—"
"Mrs. Chen, you've been coming here for twelve years. You've never missed an appointment. You've never been late with a payment. Consider this a thank you for being a loyal patient."
Her eyes got slightly wet. "That's very kind."
"It's practical. Good patients deserve good service."
Emily tried the retainer. Smiled. "It feels perfect. Thank you, Dr. Farber."
"You're welcome. Just remember—take it out before eating."
"I will. I promise."
They left.
I locked up.
Walked back through the Village.
The park was busier now. 9:00 AM on Saturday. Families. Tourists. Street musicians setting up.
Claire was still at the fountain. Different position. Still photographing.
Our eyes met briefly.
She nodded. I nodded back.
Strangers sharing space.
I continued home.
Saturday afternoon, I did something I hadn't done in years.
Nothing.
No work. No planning. No obligations.
I sat on my couch with a book I bought months ago and never opened.
Read for two hours.
It felt strange. Indulgent. Necessary.
Around 3:00 PM, the phone rang.
I picked up. "Hello?"
"Barry! It's Joey. Listen, I'm in a bind. I have an audition Monday morning. They want me to smile. My tooth hurts when I smile. Can you see me?"
"When?"
"I know it's Saturday. I'm sorry. But this audition is really important. It's for a soap opera. Actual steady work. I just need you to check if something's wrong."
I thought about saying no. It was my day off.
But Joey was good people. And he'd vouched for Chandler. And he paid on time, even when it was $50.
"I can see you at 5:00 PM. At the clinic."
"Seriously? Barry, you're a lifesaver. I'll be there. Thank you!"
He hung up.
I stared at the phone.
This was becoming a pattern. Emergency appointments. Favors. Going above and beyond.
Original Barry would have said no. Would have referred him to an emergency dental clinic. Would have protected his personal time.
But this Barry was building something different.
A practice based on relationships, not just transactions.
And relationships required showing up when people needed you.
Even on Saturdays.
END CHAPTER 5 (1)
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