by Lissa Kasey
“Sounds like typical Harry behavior.” Charlie nodded. “Yeah, okay. Let me tell Jess I’m stepping out a minute and I’ll walk you over to the vet’s.”
“You don’t have to,” Nate said. “I don’t want to take up your time.”
“No worries. I’m close enough that if the bell rings I can be back in less than a minute. It’s been quiet this fall. New fire rules have been really helpful. Plus having Jameson and Graham out watching the parks is huge. Their new data on soil moisture content and plant life has been amazing. We have zones now to watch. Areas we know are dry and could go up. It’s put us on fast alert. Stopped a brush fire in only a few hours just last month. Could have had acres go up, but we’d already been watching.”
“I didn’t realize that rangers did that sort of thing. I thought they just checked on campers.”
Charlie shrugged and nodded. “They do that too. Be back in one second.” He sauntered into the station and was back a minute later with a hoodie. “Don’t mind me. I’m sort of a freeze-baby.” Charlie tugged on the hoodie. “It’s only sixty-eight out, are you warm enough?”
Nate had thought the day beautiful. Not too warm. Not too cold. He was just in a T-shirt and jeans himself, and a nice comfy pair of loafers. “It’s a very nice day.”
Charlie put out his hand, motioning toward the street. “Shall we go?”
Nate nodded and followed along beside him. Charlie was probably a half foot taller than Nate, but didn’t seem to have to alter his gait to keep at his side. Harry bounced along beside them making happy little noises as he danced like he was on parade or something.
“You been to Lori’s yet?” Charlie asked as they rounded the corner and there was Main Street.
“Not yet. Jamie said they make amazing pastries.”
“We can walk by the bakery on the way back from the vet. I want to pick up some pastries to bring home to Bastian. Lori’s got a whole line of gluten-free and stevia sweetened tarts now, just ‘cause Bastian can’t have the normal stuff. I think even she was surprised at how well that line has done.”
“I’ll have to try some. I don’t have allergies, but I do try to watch my sugar.” Nate patted his middle. He’d actually lost a good twenty pounds since his migraine adventure had begun, unintentionally of course, but he wasn’t the ripped specimen of man that Charlie obviously was. He was average. No defined anything.
“Bastian gets migraines from sugar, and heartburn from gluten. He’s not been officially diagnosed because getting him to leave the house for something as intrusive as a doctor’s appointment is damn near impossible. Tell him he gets to draw horses, whales, or even some new flower and he’s on board, but no doctors.”
Nate laughed, “I agree. Been to a ton of doctors myself, only for them all to tell me I’m pretty much crazy.” They rounded another corner to find the grocery store, not the giant megastore Nate was used to, but something decent sized. There was also a small hardware store, a line of boutiques and furniture shops, and at the end the veterinarian was marked with the logo of a cat and dog on the outside of the building. There was a rack full of bikes and a machine that it appeared you could rent them from.
They walked up to the vet, Harry practically bouncing with excitement again. “He knows where he’s going,” Charlie laughed. He held the door for Nate and they went inside. The clinic was nice. The tech behind the counter cooed at Harry and came around to offer him a treat. “Jen, this is Nate, Jameson’s friend. Nate, Jen. She’s one of three vet techs.”
“I’m usually the one who comes out to Jameson’s place to look in on his critters.” Jen was a pretty woman, maybe late thirties, with platinum-blond hair cut short to barely brush her shoulders. She was in a set of scrubs that were pink with little Chihuahuas on them. She petted Harry’s head. “This little guy is going to need a trim soon. I’ll send a note to Jameson.”
Harry danced/hopped over to one of the dogs in the waiting room who didn’t seem bothered by the annoying little goat at all. “Is he always so energetic?” Nate asked.
Jen laughed, “Oh yes. Jameson is the only one who can handle him. Harry was originally some rich kid’s pet, but he was just too much work for them, so they dropped him off here. He’s been with Jameson a couple years now.”
Nate barely remembered the conversation from that day.
Why are you so quiet? Nate had typed.
Researching goats. Jamie responded.
Say what?
Rescue goat. He likes to eat my shoes. That can’t be healthy. So I’m researching.
It had been funny, and Nate had been floored that Jamie just took it in stride. “Everyone knows Jamie pretty well, then?”
“Yeah. He was a cop. Well liked for the most part, though he’s quiet.” Jen put a handful of treats in a bag and gave it to Nate. “For Harry on the walk back. It will keep him out of flowers. Never heard anyone call Jameson, Jamie before you though.”
“It’s all he’s ever been to me. Jameson is weird to me. Very formal.” Nate didn’t think of Jamie as quiet. Somewhat reserved maybe, but not quiet. “Jameson McKendel,” Nate let the name roll off his tongue. “It’s just so weird to me. You used to call him Officer McKendel?”
“Still do sometimes. It’s habit,” Jen told him. “Him and Officer Church. Just used to having them around. It’s nice seeing them in the parks uniform though. Knowing our force is growing. I know for years we just had rangers on the mainland. Been a struggle to get some local and on-site rangers. They are still looking for a third to help with rotation, but no one wants that much field time. Then no sooner do we get some and they retire. Graham and Jameson are still learning the ropes, but they are passionate about the job. Ranger Blume comes around often to share information with them, even though he’s been retired almost six months. He lives on the island.”
“That man knows fire hazards,” Charlie said. “Rangers in general. Rare breed. People don’t think much of them because they are outside working in the dirt, reading the trees and animal tracks, but they see so much. From the type of flora and fauna to where the best camping spot is.”
Another tech appeared, calling for the dog Harry was socializing with. “I gotta go. You all have a great day,” Jen said. She turned toward the owner.
Nate tugged Harry away and Charlie held the door. “Let’s stop by Lori’s. You can order lunch to go from the bakery too. Did you eat yet? I’ll get something for Jess while we’re there,” Charlie said.
“What about Harry? We can’t bring him into the shop…”
“Sure you can.” They strode up to the bakery. The door was open, letting wonderful smells waft out. There was a section off to the side that was designated the pet zone. There were pet beds and blankets lined up with one of those electric dog fountains for water.
Harry made his way over to the water bowl and bowed his head to drink. Charlie went to the counter. He picked up a small card and handed it over to Nate. It was a list of sandwiches and soup. But it was the case of pastries that had Nate mesmerized. “Wow.”
“Oh yeah. Sugar dreams,” Charlie said. He pointed to the top left rack. “Those are stevia sweetened, diabetic friendly options. The rest is great, but prepare for the sugar coma afterward.”
A blonde woman came out of the back with a tray in hand, which she took a minute to slide into the case before greeting Charlie. “Good to see you,” she said.
“This is Nate, Jameson’s friend who is staying with him,” Charlie said. “Nate this is Angel. Her mom owns both shops, but Angel manages the bakery now.”
Nate gave her a small wave. “Your pastries look amazing.”
“Thank you. Jameson said you might be looking for work?”
Nate felt himself flush. Not since he was fourteen had he not had a job. “I am. I mean, I just got here, but I should find something.”
“We’re looking for early morning help. Lots of mixing and hauling, some delivery stuff. Part time, but we do offer benefits.” Angel dug through a drawer near the
cash register a moment before coming up with a piece of paper. She held it out to Nate. “Here’s the details on the job, the pay and the benefits. Read it over, and call if you’re interested. Jameson said you might need a few weeks to rest first.”
Nate took the information sheet. “Thank you, but you don’t even know me. I could be a thief or something.”
Both Angel and Charlie laughed. Then Angel said, “Jameson trusts you. Hell, Harry trusts you.” She pointed at the goat who was practically wrapped around Nate’s leg in an ever-joyful buzz of energy and fur. “’Sides, the early morning stuff is hard. People either do mornings or they don’t. And start time on this job is 4:00 A.M.”
Nate cursed.
Angel winked at him. “You get used to it. And you’re off by noon, sometimes ten. We usually get college kids to do it in the summer and over Christmas, but when they go back, we’re always shorthanded.”
“I know nothing about baking,” Nate admitted.
“It’s not like you’ll be designing cakes. You’ll just be adding stuff to the mixer. With supervision at first, and once you get the hang of it, on your own. Just think on it. Jameson said not to rush you.”
“I appreciate it,” Nate told her. “Everything. Everyone.” Everybody had been so fucking nice to him. He had to fight back tears again and looked away from them.
“Anyway, you’re probably hungry. So what do you gentlemen want for lunch?”
Chapter 5
Nate chose based on Charlie’s suggestion, keeping his gluten and sugar to a minimum. If it helped Charlie’s boyfriend Bastian with migraines, maybe it would help Nate. He also picked up a box of pastries, half the special ones, and half regular ones in case Jamie didn’t want the special diet sweets.
Charlie walked with him and Harry halfway back to the house, just chatting about the town and different events. Apparently October was a huge thing on Friday Harbor, with every weekend being some sort of event and lots of tourists around town. Nate made a mental note to check out the details online since October was only a couple weeks away.
Nate took Harry into the backyard, dumped the food off on the counter in the kitchen and heading back outside, he greeted the dogs. He played for half an hour, throwing balls for the dogs to chase, before making his way upstairs to check on his cats. His three were snoozing, but instantly AJ was up and crying for him with that long languid stretch cats did with their butt in the air and their front feet stretched forward. He scratched her absently.
It didn’t take long for the other two to move in for attention. He lavished them all, having to move to the floor and lie on his back so Leo could be on his chest, perched over his heart and purring. “I should unpack,” Nate told them as he stared at his heap of boxes. “Then we should start getting you guys used to moving around the house.”
AJ just gave him a long blink and continued to purr. He sighed. “I can’t sleep all the time, you guys. I gotta do something productive.” But he lay there for an hour in a half doze. Finally, he groaned and rolled over, dislodging the cats. He never did well when he let himself laze about. Too much time to think. And while he hadn’t worked himself up into another panic attack, he could almost feel one coming if he didn’t get moving. So he started to unpack.
The room that Jamie had chosen for him was filled with empty bookcases and shelves. Lots of room for Nate to spread out all his random things. He spent some time putting the books in order, then set his action figures out for display, dusting them and putting them in rows of characters from the same universe. AJ stayed at his feet, but Riley returned to his favorite perch on top of one of the bookshelves. Nate found the blanket Riley had used at home and arranged it on the top of the bookcase. Riley curled up in a black ball of fur and soon was fast asleep. Leo sat on Nate’s bed, nose to the blanket, at ease and mostly asleep as far as Nate could tell. It was only AJ who needed constant attention.
Nate finished unpacking and it was after five. He knew Jamie often didn’t get home until after seven. Maybe Nate could make some dinner for them? He ran through his short list of food options that he could cook with ease. Mostly it was chili, tacos, or pizza. He’d packed his recipe folder of more complicated stuff, but he’d need to see what Jamie had to work with before he could plan anything elaborate.
He opened the door and AJ stuck her nose out.
“It’s a scary world out there, baby. You sure you’re ready? There’s other kitties in the house.” He opened the door far enough to step out and she followed. “Okay. You’ve been warned.” He shut the door behind them and made his way downstairs with AJ practically creeping along behind him, her belly plastered to the floor, ears up and twitching, alert.
Friar Tuck sat on one of the kitchen chairs, but AJ didn’t seem to notice, and he barely spared her a glance. Nate opened the fridge looking for ingredients. Jamie apparently ate like most bachelors, processed foods, a loaf of bread, and lunch meat. His fridge had eggs and some old milk. The freezer was filled with microwave dinners. And the cupboards were filled with salt-soaked processed foods like ramen and macaroni and cheese.
Before Nate had gotten sick, he’d prided himself on his healthy eating habits. He’d always been a little pudgy, no matter how hard he worked out or how well he ate. But his constant migraines and panic attacks had taken him from a chunky 210 pounds down to 185. His doctor had been thrilled by his weight loss, touting the benefits like decreased heart disease and diabetes risks. Nate would rather have been pudgy and felt better mentally than thin and sick.
He glanced down at AJ. “I’m going to have to go to the grocery store. Means you’re either on your own in the house, or I put you back in our room.”
She merowed at him. He sighed and bent to pick her up. Immediately she started licking and kneading him as he struggled to carry her back upstairs. She didn’t like being plunked down on his bed, but made her way to Leo’s side to use him as a pillow.
“Poor Leo,” Nate grumbled. He headed downstairs, retrieved his keys from the key hook beside the backdoor, and made his way out, mentally ticking off ingredients in his head. The U-Haul was gone. Had Jamie returned it? Nate would have to try to remember to ask him. He couldn’t remember if it had been there when he’d gone into town that afternoon or not.
He drove into town. The grocery store was small, but packed. He found a section of all organic meats, grass or vegetarian fed, and free range, and stocked up. He also loaded up on organic vegetables, fruit, and picked up some basic supplies like sprouted grain bread and rice. He’d make chicken fajitas, he decided when he found the selection of peppers and onions were not only fresh, they were local, from a farm somewhere on Friday Harbor.
He was wandering through the spice aisle when an attractive young Asian man in a white lab coat stopped him. His hair was cut short on the sides, long on top, which seemed to emphasize his high cheekbones and large brown eyes. “You’re Nate Granger, right?”
Nate blinked at him. How did everyone know who he was?
“I’m Troy Young. Pharmacy tech and herbalist. Jameson had me looking over your medical stuff.”
“Oh,” Nate said. He remembered forwarding his medical test results to Jamie after Jamie had asked if he could give them to a local guy for a second opinion. “I’ve been taking the supplements Jamie said you chose for me.”
“That’s great. I looked over your charts and you’re deficient in a lot of regular stuff. Vitamins D, A, B12, iron, magnesium. Some people get that stuff okay from food. Some from multivitamins. The rest of us have to supplement because our body just doesn’t absorb it right. If you’re willing to keep me updated, I’m hoping I can help solve your migraine issue.”
“I appreciate your help. I’ve been to a lot of doctors,” Nate told him, leaving unsaid that nobody could figure out what was wrong with him or even seemed to care.
“I do a lot of holistic stuff. Nothing too crazy. Just diet and minerals mostly. The body is great at self-regulating if we give it the right tools. Some folks are h
ighly sensitive to pharmaceutical medications. Some can’t take any supplements. It’s all biology, but everyone is different. Jameson said you’re switching your antidepressant med?”
Nate nodded. “For all the good it does. I know it could take up to six weeks to start feeling better, if it works at all.” He was tired of all the panic attacks and crying at the drop of a hat, but his old med had seemed to stop working completely. “My old doctor tried to up the dose, but it made me manic. So did the steroid I took for the migraines. Then the doctor said I was bipolar and started adding a ton of meds.” That’s where everything had gone wrong. His minor depression had turned to suicidal depression and terror.
“But no manic episodes before the meds?” Troy clarified.
“No. Just depression on and off. I realize now it was mostly situational. I’ve done a lot of therapy.” None of which seemed to help as his depression and anxiety weren’t really tied to anything. If he had a dollar for every time he was told that by identifying his emotions he could change them, he’d be living the high life.
“Then you’re not bipolar. Just because a medication induces the effect does not make you bipolar. That’s a reaction to a drug. Your doctor didn’t know what they were doing.”
“I saw a half dozen. No one could agree.” They’d all just let him suffer saying it would get better with time, only Nate had gotten worse. So depressed he wanted to die. And so afraid of anything he had days he feared leaving the house. He’d started taking himself off all the extra meds one at a time.
“And they had you on a benzodiazepine for a while and took you off?”
“A couple months,” Nate agreed.
“How long since you took the benzo?”
“Eight months or so.”
“Do you still have it?”
Nate thought about all the things he’d packed. He had an entire box full of supplements and his many meds, but Jamie had insisted on dropping the unused meds off at the local police station before they’d left Minnesota. “No.”