Authors: Lauraine Snelling
“How long will you be gone?”
“Two, possibly three, days. Some family business. When do you meet with Jensen?”
She knew there was some dissension going on among several of his family members, but since he never volunteered the information, she never asked. “I don’t know. I noticed I have a message from him. And thank you for the rose and the lovely bud vase.
“Don’t thank me, I didn’t send it.”
“Then who did?”
He shrugged. “By the way, I heard rumors that one of the weekly rags is planning an exposé using someone who claims to have become terribly ill, as in life threatening, after using Scoparia.”
“And how much are they paying this person?”
“No idea. Just thought you should know.”
“Any basis?”
“I’m sure an attorney will be contacting us.”
Dinah heaved a sigh. And all she wanted to do was make sick people’s lives better. Diabetes was a killer, she knew that well. So why were so many people trying to prevent conquering it?
L
ooking back, Garret assessed that the dinner had gone well, and Monday flew by as if chased by rambunctious five-year-olds. Since Susan was on for Monday night, Garret went in early Tuesday to try to catch up on paperwork. And review the list of applications they had received in response to their ads for another veterinarian. Whoever they hired had to like working the night shift in urgent care.
Valiant had been on the new antibiotic since late Monday, so only twelve hours so far. The last blood work had shown the white count still high but no worse. So the other medication had contained the infection, he hoped, and maybe this one would knock it out. They would ease the dog off the sedative today. The pain levels should be manageable with other drugs. They needed to get him up and moving.
Sitting in his office with the door shut and a jug of coffee beside his feet on the desk, Garret flipped through the stack of ten applicants. Three still in school; hadn’t they made it clear they needed someone with more than just school experience? One had a letter of referral from an old friend of his. Garret set that one in the to-read-again stack. Another application was from a husband-and-wife team. Could they use two? Only if two came for the price of one. He set that one by to read again, too. By the time his coffee was empty and the bagels digesting, the ten were in three stacks; one didn’t even seem worth responding to because the person was a vet tech, not a certified veterinarian.
He refilled his coffee. If he wasn’t careful, he’d be popping antacids again. This was all the response they had after a week of advertising in the online veterinarians’ newsletter. He put notes on three to set up interviews, on three to send thanks but no thanks, leaving four to think about.
A knock at the door told him the day had officially begun. “Tessa’s here.”
“Tell her I’ll meet her at Valiant’s cage.”
He laid the stack on Susan’s desk—see what she thought—and continued down to the cage room. She was already there, her hand in the open door, stroking her comatose dog. “Good morning, Tessa.”
“He’s coming out of it, right?”
“Yes. We’ll cast him and try to get him on his feet today.”
“Did you find out anything about the prowler?”
He smiled. “A man showed up in ER claiming a pit bull ran out and bit him when he was innocently walking down the street. Has a long rap sheet. Did you file the report?”
“I did, and an officer came out and took the tools. Said they’d get back to me if they learned anything.” There was a quiet smugness in her voice. “Wouldn’t it be interesting if Valiant were able to identify him?”
Garret’s mind left the cage room for a moment, trying to set up scenarios with Valiant fingering the would-be burglar. A police lineup was not out of the question.
She leaned over to stroke Valiant’s head. His full tail moved this time and he whined, trying to lift his head. “As a writer friend of mine often says, ‘The plot thickens.’”
Garret laid a hand on her shoulder. “Call us if you need anything.”
“I will.”
He left the room, from the rarified atmosphere of a sweet, disabled lady with her heroic dog to the heavy air of half a dozen sick pets and their owners. Ah, and two routine checkups for this afternoon. You would think with all the work, the time would fly. The whole day dragged.
Finally he had a minute to stop by the lab. “A day without emergencies is like a day without…”
Susan was back, just suiting up. She shrugged into her lab coat. “I read those apps. I agree with your assessment. At least two of the four might be worth interviewing, although, since we can’t pay moving costs, that pretty much leaves the California applicant out.”
“Not necessarily. She graduated Davis and worked there a year as an intern. She has great references. We should consider her if she can afford to come on her own.”
Sue nodded. “She’d find living back here less expensive, too.”
“Good thing to remember to add that to the sales pitch if we decide to try her.”
They both got back to work.
“Hey, Dr. G,” Mrs. Tarbell said as he examined her schnauzer-with-eczema. “I saw your comic strip in yesterday’s paper. I get a kick out of them.”
“Thank you.” Actually he’d forgotten what day it appeared. He’d preferred Sunday, but the paper was still trying different days to see if any got a better response than others. For him, the pleasure was in the creating. At least he was a couple ahead for now.
They put Valiant under again to cast his leg, so that when he became fully alert the cast would be hard, although with today’s new quick-drying compounds, that was no longer a problem most of the time. When Garret left for the day at three, Tessa was parked beside her dog again.
A blinking light on the phone greeted him when he arrived home. Three new messages. Why did they all wait until he went out the door?
The first was Mom. “Hi, Garret, just a reminder that dinner is at two on Sunday. I have something I need to talk over with all of you, but this just came up so I do hope you plan to be here. Dad says hello. I say been too long since we’ve seen you. We love you.”
He had the family dinner on his calendar, but once he started the paintings he’d been toying with the idea of not going. Should he call her back and insist on a heads-up on what she wanted to say? Or was it needed? He nodded and hit Erase. Call two: someone selling something. He was on every no-call list known to man. How had that one gotten through? Delete. Call three.
Danny. “I got the estimate prepared and I see you have pledges of three thou. That might cover most of the materials. I need to check further into that. But we have enough information to take it to the board. They meet tomorrow night. We can use volunteers on the finish work, but for the construction I need my crew, or we won’t pass inspection. The city meets Thursday night, and I would sure like to have this on their agenda.”
So they needed more money. But he’d figured that and hadn’t put his contribution in yet. Was it time to ask for more or wait until he saw the final estimate?
By the time he’d finished showering, he still had an hour and a half before he had to be back at the clinic. Time enough to paint.
The ringing phone finally got through to him. He kept studying her eyes as he reached for it, knocking a container of mineral spirits onto the floor. “Yes!”
“Ah, Garret, you were supposed to be here half an hour ago.”
“Sue.”
“Yes, it is I, and I have to leave. You sound remarkably awake for one sleeping so deep the phone didn’t wake him.”
“I’m painting. I need to feed here and I’ll be there ASAP. You can go on home. Jason can handle it until I get there. Sorry.”
“Okay, I’m leaving, but you will be here soon?”
“Yes, I will be there.” He flipped the phone shut and stared at the three paintings. The third one was bothering him. Why did he want to put the three of them together? What did he know about Jonah’s real family? Why should he care? The kid was all questions, no answers. But those eyes…
Instead of taking the paintings, he took a pad of paper and his markers. Perhaps he could sketch out something he liked. If it wasn’t busy.
“Don’t fret, Dr. G. All is well.” Jason looked up from his position on the cage-room floor next to Valiant as Garret walked in. The dog was no longer on his side but up on his belly, the casted leg angled out beside him. “I think he’s embarrassed because he can’t make that leg work right. Will you do another blood draw and see what’s happening?”
“Not until the morning. Thirty-six hours on the antibiotic ought to show us something.” He nodded at Jason. “You still thinking vet school?”
“If I can get in. Get my bachelor’s degree first. I finally resorted to a tutor for the math.”
“Wise move. Maintaining high grades in the math and sciences is what keeps medicine from being an easy field to get into. But then all medical programs are difficult. If they weren’t, then everyone would be doing it and there goes the quality of the program.” He rubbed Valiant’s ears one more time. “All the chores are caught up?”
“They are. Being paid to comfort the animals is really a hard gig.”
“One way to look at it. You have homework along?”
“I always have homework.”
“Then hide in a quiet corner. I’ll be in my office.”
Garret got a bottle of soda out of the machine and a bag of pretzels from the cupboard and set up his sketch pad.
The rest of the night was slow. Garret worked out several possibles for the third canvas, sketched a new panel for his comic strip, and dozed off for a while. He checked on Valiant.
Occasional showers were still keeping everything outside wet as Sue came in. On time. Garret felt just a tiny twinge of guilt for his own tardiness.
“Did you hear what happened to Dinah?” She shook out her coat and hung it up.
“No. Do you know her personally or something? Why does this bother you so much?” Garret rolled his papers together and snapped a rubber band around them.
“It bothers me because she is trying to help people and the media are out to crucify her. And she’s such a nice person. Quiet, but nice. I just don’t get it.”
“It sells newspapers, gets ratings, all the same game.” He snagged his jacket off the row of pegs on the wall. “Beanpole and Lenny are about done. We got Valiant up on his feet. When Tessa comes in, tell her I think we should keep him a while longer. I’m out of here. See you tomorrow morning.”
“At seven?” One of her eyebrows quirked.
“Yes, ma’am. At seven.” If he woke early, perhaps he could paint for an hour or two. Or perhaps not. A yawn almost cracked his jaw.
“Go on with you.”
Instead of the Bagelry, he decided he needed more protein and stopped at the Extraburger.
“Dr. G!” Jonah, at a table by the window, waved wildly. “Dinah, look who’s here! You want to eat breakfast with us, Dr. G?”
“I—ah, umm…”
Dinah Taylor turned from paying the tattooed boy behind the cash register. “I’m sure Dr. Garret does not have time this morning to eat with us, Jonah.”
While that was the last thing he wanted to do this morning, the imperious tone of her voice set his teeth on edge. “Why, thank you, Jonah. I’d love to.”
He could feel the questions her eyes shot at him. Eyes. Windows on the soul?
He placed his order and stepped back to wait, but the young man said, “I’ll bring it out with theirs, sir. No problem.” Mr. Helpful. So he walked back to the booth by the corner window.
At least Jonah was bubbly. He scooted against the wall and dragged his backpack onto the floor at his feet, making room for Garret. “How come you’re here, Dr. G? Isn’t your office a long way away?”
“This is between our office and my house, so I stopped for breakfast. I worked last night.”
Dinah slipped into the seat across from them. The feelings she radiated just now were not even close to friendly.
The tattooed fellow plunked a tray between them. “Can I get you anything else?”
Dinah smiled up at him. “Thanks, Eric, but I think that’s all. We appreciate your helpfulness.” So she was on a cheerful first-name basis with this guy, but she was an iceberg around Garret. Well, he didn’t care much for her, either.
The fellow lingered. “How’s your dog, Jonah? Is she doing okay?”
“She gets her stitches out on Saturday. Then she’ll look better. They shaved her a lot, too, but her hair will grow back. And she doesn’t have to wear that cone now.” Jonah’s chest swelled with pride. “And this here is her doctor. This is Dr. G.”
The kid smiled and nodded toward Garret. “Next time you bring her, she gets a special treat if I’m here.”
Jonah waited until the man left before announcing, “We do grace.”
“Good. So do I.” Garret bowed his head.
“Dear Jesus, thank You for our food and for making this a good day for all of us. Give Dinah Your special love. Amen.”
Why had he added that? Dinah unwrapped her sandwich while Jonah went through what appeared to be a morning ritual that ended as he carefully laid his napkin on his lap.
Garret asked, “So how is Mutt doing?”
“She’s fine. She likes us living with Dinah, and the elevator works all the time. The first couple of days, she went slow.” Jonah looked up from his pancakes. “My mommy went to live with Jesus last Friday, and we came to live with Dinah.”
Garret stared at him. No visible emotion, almost nonchalance. What the blue blazes was going on with this kid? With both of them, actually. This Dinah Taylor was obviously a close enough friend that she’d taken over Jonah’s care, so she should be at least a little sad. But there seemed to be nothing. Was the mother’s death sudden? As he thought back, Garret could not remember any evidence whatever of grief and sadness in either of them—apart from the obvious responses to the dog’s trauma. “You must miss her terribly.”
“Mommy told me all about it, lots of times as she got sick. She said heaven with Jesus is better than here, and when she got there she wouldn’t be sick and she would be with my daddy.”
“You’re his aunt, then—or something?” He shook his head. “Excuse me, that’s none of my business.”
Jonah barreled on. “Dinah is my best friend. She even took care of Mutt when she needed help. I didn’t know what to do and Mommy couldn’t help me.” He mopped syrup with his pancakes. “So I called Dinah and she came right away.”
“I see.” He nodded as he finished off his sandwich.
No, he didn’t see. This was a weird relationship. Beyond belief, all of them. And he thought
his
relationships were screwed up.
Jonah laid his fork down. “May I get out, please? I got to leave.”
Garret stood up and stepped back. Jonah slid out of the booth dragging his backpack and gathered up his garbage for the trash. “See you Saturday, Dr. G. I pinned your picture up on my wall.”
Dinah crumpled her napkin and prepared to leave, too. “I’ll go out with you.”
“You don’t gotta. I’ll wave to you.” And off he went.
She looked disappointed. “See you this afternoon, Jonah.”
She settled back uneasily and picked up her half-empty coffee cup.
The tattoo guy paused at her elbow and gestured with a coffee carafe. “Would you like a refill on that?”