by Lyn Cote
“I don’t know. I was out having lunch and shopping with a friend today. I came home and found him coughing and gagging. He’d stop breathing on and off, too. So I just grabbed him up and drove here as fast as I could.”
“You did exactly the right thing.” Jake swung the dog right side up again. He set him on the table. Pickles moaned and gasped, wheezed, stopped breathing, then gagged and gasped again.
“Oh, my.” Mrs. Duffy began to weep. “Is he going to die?”
“Not if I can help it. Please come here, Mrs. Duffy. I need you to get a good grip on him around his middle.” Jake donned latex gloves, reached for his thin penlight, and aimed it down Pickles’ gullet. “I see something, kind of orange.”
“Oh!” Mrs. Duffy yelped. “My grandson was playing with Pickles yesterday. An orange Nerf ball!”
“Which—no doubt—your grandson forgot to take home with him.” Jake reached for a long-handled forceps. He petted Pickles, murmuring to him. “Hold him tight,” he told Mrs. Duffy. Then Jake plunged the forceps down Pickles’ throat and latched onto the ball. He yanked it out. Pickles promptly vomited onto the examining table.
And Mrs. Duffy burst into tears. “Will he be all right?”
Jake used a wipe to clean off Pickles’ jowls and face. Then he lifted the pug from the table and returned him to the embrace of his tearful owner.
Amy stepped forward and began to clean up the mess on the examining table. Jake drew closer to Mrs. Duffy. Pickles still gulped air, panting. Jake once again tilted the pug’s chin upward and pointed the penlight into his throat. “All clear.” He took a deep breath, his heart still thumping.
“Oh, thank you, Doctor,” Mrs. Duffy said, still dabbing at tears with a tissue, one-handed. “I’m so happy you were still here.”
“Me, too. Pickles is one fine pug.” Jake petted the old dog’s head.
“Do you need to do anything else?” Mrs. Duffy asked. “And do I need to do anything at home?”
Jake shook his head. “Just let me know if he has any more trouble. I don’t think the Nerf ball has caused any swelling or inflammation. It’s too soft. Just be careful next time that your grandson takes all his toys home with him.”
“I will. I will.” Mrs. Duffy lifted her purse from the floor where she’d dropped it.
Jake held up a hand. “I’ll send you a bill for an office visit. Just go home and put your feet up and relax.”
“Thank you again, Doctor. I will.” Mrs. Duffy waddled out of the room. As she walked down the hall toward the door, Jake could hear her gently scolding Pickles about swallowing Nerf balls.
Amy let out a sigh of relief. “Wow. That was scary. I thought he was going to stop breathing any moment.”
Jake agreed, gazing at her. His heart, too, had raced. And now he knew he shouldn’t have put Amy off—always better to face things head-on. If Mrs. Duffy had waited, she might have come too late. Plus, he’d rejected Amy’s overtures of friendship just before.
“I’ve acted like a jerk today.”
She looked up, obviously surprised. “You are never a jerk.”
“Yes, I am. I’m letting my dad get me down. I’m sorry. Really.”
“You don’t owe me an apology. None of us are perfect. What’s the problem with your dad?” Amy finished cleaning off the table by spraying it with disinfectant.
“Let’s go to my office. I need to sit down.”
Smiling, Amy fell silent and then said in a low serious voice, “The girls and I have been praying for his health.”
“Thanks.” My mom used to pray with us. After her death, I shouldn’t have stopped. “Come to my office. I’ll tell you and you’ll probably make me feel better.”
“I’ll try.” Amy walked beside him to his desk. Though there was no one else in the clinic, they shut the door. Amy sat in the chair across from him. The only sounds came from the animals recovering in the kennel and even they were subdued.
Bummer scratched at the connecting door. Amy rose to let him in, thinking Jake needed Bummer here, too. The basset hound went to Jake and rested his chin on Jake’s knee.
“My dad’s symptoms are getting worse.” Jake stroked Bummer’s ears. “And when I try to get him to call his friend Lewis at Madison, he just blows me off or blows up.”
“That’s hard. Your dad strikes me as a take-charge kind of guy. He doesn’t like being the patient, does he?”
“No.” He rubbed his forehead. “I’ve thought of talking to Brooke.” He looked directly into Amy’s eyes.
She nodded. “Brooke definitely has a good effect on him. But I don’t think he’d take medical advice from her, and she might not want to confront him.”
“That was my thought, too.”
“Maybe you’ll just have to let nature take its course. Maybe he’ll need a good scare. What are his symptoms?”
“I’ve caught him rubbing his chest like he was in pain, but when I mentioned it, he denied it.” Jake began stroking Bummer’s ears again.
Amy frowned.
“And a few times he’s stood up and then sat down fast. I think he was light-headed and was afraid he’d faint or fall down.”
Amy shook her head. “He’s stubborn all right. I’m not a doctor, but I know those are signs of heart problems.”
“So what do I do?”
“There isn’t much you can do except observe him and pray he’ll see the light. Could he have a heart attack?”
“Yes, he could, and it could be fatal. I’m keeping a supply of nitroglycerin tablets in the house. I’m just afraid I won’t be there to put one under his tongue and call 911.”
Amy sighed deeply. “Maybe you should give Brooke a few of those pills on the Q.T. If he needs one, he probably won’t be mad after the fact that she had one.”
He nodded. “I’m looking forward to her party. I hope it truly will be the end of winter. I usually like winter, but not this year.” He shook his head.
Amy looked surprised. “Are we going to her party?”
“Are we going to her party?” he repeated, distinctly puzzled.
“You never said anything. I thought you didn’t want to be classed as a…as a couple.”
“We are a couple, aren’t we? I mean though I’ve never taken you out on a real date.” Was she confused or was he? “I mean I’ve kissed you…”
Amy laughed. “Men.” She shook her head. “Are we really a couple?” Bummer perked up at her laughter.
He gazed at her face. She looked back at him quizzically. “I guess I shouldn’t have assumed that we were going together.”
Amy sat back in her chair. “Jake, even in this modern age, the man is the one who asks the woman for a date—usually.” She fell silent, staring at him.
He finally got it. “Amy, would you like to go to Brooke’s party with me?”
“Do you want me to say yes?”
“Yes.” I will never understand women.
“Then I would be happy to go with you as your date.”
“Thank you.”
Amy broke out laughing.
For a moment, he thought she might reach for his hand, but she didn’t. She smiled and then left him, saying she needed to do Sandy’s end-of-day routine. Suddenly he felt as if he’d swallowed an orange Nerf ball. He’d asked Amy for a real date and she’d said “yes.” Yes!
Amy walked into the mall and nearly turned tail home. Jake had let Brooke know they were coming. And then Brooke had called Amy to chat a few days ago. And before Amy knew it, she and Brooke had planned a shopping trip together. Today, she’d tried to get out of it. Both the girls had bad colds. But Mike had declared that he hadn’t caught cold in years and that Amy should go on, he’d stay with the twins.
Brooke chuckled. “You look like you’ve just walked into a dentist’s office.”
“I haven’t been to a mall in quite a while. I usually just shop in Rhinelander.”
“Rhinelander has some nice shops downtown, but a mall is like going to a carnival. Loosen up.
This is fun. A girl’s day out.”
“I haven’t had many of those,” Amy admitted.
Brooke gave her a sympathetic look. “I used to have them often, but my husband got custody of our friends. That’s one reason I finally moved here—to be near a few college girlfriends. And start over.”
Amy didn’t know what to say to this. “Divorce must be hard.”
“It is hard, and especially hard when one party married for life and the other married just till someone better came along.”
This ticked Amy off. “I don’t think you should even say that,” she objected hotly. “Just because your ex was fickle didn’t mean that he found someone better.”
Brooke stopped midstep and stared at Amy. “Thank you.” She put her hand in the crook of Amy’s elbow and grinned. “Girl, let’s start shopping.”
“Just remember I don’t have much money to spend,” Amy cautioned, thinking of Brooke’s obviously designer clothes.
“Amy, I work for a living, too,” Brooke said. “I do medical transcription from home eight to ten hours a day. But my passion is finding bargains. And we’re in time for the end, of the end, of the end-of-the-season clearance sales.” With this battle cry, Brooke led her into the fray!
Amy tried to keep up with Brooke. However, Amy ranked clearly an amateur compared to Brooke, plainly in the semiprofessional class. Amy lost count of the stores they swept in and out of. Finally, they hit a department store that had a seventy-five-percent-off sale. Brooke paged through the clearance racks at a brisk pace. Soon Amy stood in a large dressing room, surrounded by mirrors and two stacks of clothing on hangers.
“I’ll sit just outside,” Brooke called from the entrance of the fitting rooms. “When you like something, come out and let me see.”
In other stores, Amy had already tried on so many clothes that Brooke had rejected that she didn’t know if she would know what she liked or not. Then from one stack, she chose a pair of brown tweed wool-blend slacks. She had almost left them on the rack. They were marked the wrong size, but they fit Amy like they’d been made just for her. Nothing pinched and they weren’t too short. She turned before the mirror, trying to see how the slacks fit her from the rear. I like these.
She rummaged through the stacks of clothing and found a cream-colored cashmere sweater with a cowl neckline. She looked at the sales tag. Even at seventy-five-percent-off , it was pricier than her usual purchases. Bravely she pulled it on and looked into the mirror. Ahhhh. I have never looked better. Certain that she must be mistaken, she walked out to Brooke.
“Oh! That’s lovely on you.” Brooke rose and joined Amy as she stood before the three-way mirror at the entrance to the fitting rooms.
“It’s the wrong size,” Amy said for lack of anything better.
“That’s why it was waiting here for you.” Brooke gazed at Amy’s reflection. “You are going to buy this outfit.”
“Yes, I am.” Amy beamed at herself. And she bought several more. Brooke kept pointing out how much Amy was saving. Amy and Brooke walked out with two bulging bags of clothing. “But you didn’t get much, Brooke,” Amy said.
“No problem. I shop all the time. In fact, I cut up my credit cards, had to. Before I moved here, I started shopping to make myself feel better. And all I did was go into credit card debt. I stopped that, however, and have nearly paid everything off.”
Amy glanced over at Brooke. She was seeing a new side—or two—of this woman whom she thought she’d pegged as snooty. Amy had been wrong about Brooke—good news all around.
“Now, we have to hustle.” Brooke took her elbow again. “I’ve made an appointment for us to have manicures and pedicures—”
“Oh, no, I can’t afford that.”
“The appointments are at the community college with their beauty culture students, at a fraction of the cost. My treat. And then we’ll do lunch in their cafeteria. Today the culinary arts students are preparing lunch. Should be yummy.”
Brooke steered Amy toward the mall door. Something made Amy look over her shoulder and she saw—
Amy stopped and twisted away.
“What’s wrong?” Brooke asked.
Waves of cold shock vibrated through Amy. “I thought I saw someone I know.”
“Someone important?” Brooke asked, peering around.
“Yes.” Amy’s emotions rioted.
“Then let’s see if we can catch up with them. Who is it?”
I thought I saw my sister. Amy didn’t want to be forced to explain all about Carrie disappearing, didn’t want that cloud to descend over this bright day. But she didn’t want to lie either, so she told part of the truth. “Some girl I knew in Milwaukee.”
“What’s she look like?” Brooke was walking quickly and darting glances at the shoppers clogging the mall aisles.
“Dark hair and dark eyes. Very pretty.” Cold shock penetrated her every vein, freezing her inside.
Brooke and Amy looked around the area, but the woman had vanished.
“I must have been mistaken,” Amy mumbled. Was that true?
Brooke squeezed her arm. “Come on or we’ll be late for our appointments.”Amy went along, pasting a smile on her face. Just as they walked out the mall doors, she looked back once more. Could she have seen Carrie, or had she just imagined it? The thought twisted her already unsettled stomach.
Later, Brooke and Amy walked into Amy’s house. Rachel and Cassie came out of their bedroom. Both of them looked tired and flushed.
“How are you two doing?” Amy asked, feeling their foreheads. They were slightly warm to the touch. Thoughts of Carrie still jigged at the back of her mind, but concern for her girls overshadowed it, muted it.
“They’ve been pretty sluggish,” Mike said. “But they took their decongestant and drank lemonade. Didn’t eat much soup at lunch, though.”
“Mom, show us what you bought,” Rachel said, plopping down on the sofa.
“I’ll let you girls enjoy the fashion show,” Mike said, pulling on his jacket and hat at the door.
“Thanks, Mike,” Amy called as he left with a wave. Brooke sat down on the sofa and talked softly to the girls.
Amy showed the twins the clothing she’d purchased and her painted fingernails. Both girls were subdued, but Rachel’s more marked lack of enthusiasm worried Amy most.
Brooke rose to go. “I’ll head home now. See you in a few days.” She waved to the girls and Amy, zipped up her coat and departed, too.
Amy coaxed the girls to the table for a snack and then put them to bed for a nap. Their resistance to the nap lacked real pep, and soon Amy covered them up. She left their room with some misgivings.
Her mind went back to that electrifying moment when she’d thought she’d seen Carrie. Lord, where is she? Is she even alive? Am I starting to imagine her because I’ve prayed for so long without an answer? But if it was Carrie, what would happen now?
Saturday night, the night of Brooke’s dinner party, arrived. Amy stood in the bathroom, doing her hair. Of course, since this was the last day of March, winter had started complaining and grumbling, stirring up a brisk wind and spitting snow. A bad storm was heading right for Milwaukee, and Amy was glad she didn’t live there anymore. She had never liked dirty city snow.
The girls were watching Beauty and the Beast on DVD in the living room. Cassie had recovered from her cold, but Rachel wasn’t up to par yet. Fretting over this, Amy gazed at her reflection in the small medicine cabinet mirror. She’d brushed her hair and let it fall to her waist. Her girls had insisted that’s how they wanted her to wear it tonight.
Amy touched the soft cashmere of the cowl-neck sweater. Ivory made her skin look warmer or glowing…or something. She reached into the cosmetics bag on the sink and took out a pot of tinted lip gloss. She tapped her little finger into it and smoothed it over her lips. She wondered if Jake would kiss her tonight and if this time it would be on the lips.
The thought had no sooner passed through her mind than she was aghast at
herself. And then she wasn’t aghast. I want Jake to kiss me. It felt good admitting it. Her lips tingled as if in anticipation and she smoothed them with a bit more lip gloss. Then she headed out to see how the girls were doing.
“Oh, Mom,” Cassie said, bouncing up to hug Amy’s waist, “you look pretty!”
Amy rubbed Cassie’s back. Rachel didn’t get up from the sofa, but she reached for Amy, who went over and put a wrist to Rachel’s forehead. Cassie had gone back to school on Wednesday but she’d kept Rachel home the entire week. “Your fever is trying to come back, Rachel.”
“I’ll be okay,” Rachel said, smiling. “You look so pretty, Mom. Dr. Jake is going to be happy you’re his date.”
Amy’s heart buzzed with joy. Tonight would be the beginning of a new adventure. I’m going to let myself take a chance on love again.
That little mind-messing scolding voice tried to intrude, tried to take away her anticipation, tried to drag her back to the hurt of the other times she’d tried romance. Amy refused to listen.
She heard a knock at the door. “Come in!” she called out.
Mike and Ginnie hurried inside. “When will this winter give up?” The two of them dusted large wet snowflakes off their heads and shoulders.
“Oh, Amy, you look so pretty!” Ginnie looked up and exclaimed.
Amy just smiled. “You’re pretty, too. I’ve got a large one of those take-and-bake pizzas for you to make for dinner, Ginnie. And there’s microwave popcorn for snacking.”
The phone on the kitchen wall interrupted Amy. Ginnie and Mike waved her toward the phone and settled down to watch the DVD with the girls.
Amy picked up the receiver. “Hi, this is Amy.”
“Amy, this is Carrie.”
Chapter 11
Amy felt as though the floor were coming up to hit her in the face. Her legs trembled. She collapsed into the nearest kitchen chair.