by Evelyn Glass
“Don’t you have to be at work or something?” she mumbled.
Both her parents laughed at her, well aware that Shayna wasn’t, and never had been, a morning person. She knew that was going to have to change once she started her career. She had finally hauled her lazy carcass out of the bed after hitting the snooze button a couple of times. If she was going to be a doctor, six o’clock mornings were going to be the norm, not the exception, so she might as well get used to them.
“When do you see Dr. Lowerence?” her mother asked.
“Eight.” She’d called the number on the card during the mind-numbing drive between Pomona and Vegas yesterday. They’d spoken for a few minutes, making their introductions, before Dr. Peter Lowerence had asked her to stop by and talk to him in person. Since she had to be at the casino by ten, he was seeing her as his first appointment.
“Nervous?” her mom asked.
“A little.”
“Don’t be. You’ll be fine.” Leigh Shephard was a kind and soft-spoken woman with unflappable calm. She was so proud of her daughter she was bursting at the seams and knew Shayna could do anything she set her mind to. She was certain the good doctor would see that and snap Shayna up on the spot.
“That’s right,” Bob agreed. “He should consider himself lucky you called him first.”
Shayna smiled, buoyed by her parents’ support. She took a sip of the hot liquid, staring at the table in thought. “If I get it, I get it. If I don’t, I’ll find something else. I’m not that worried about it.” She smiled. “If I don’t find something I can always live here.”
“Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that,” her father said with a grin.
“Bob! Stop it,” Leigh scolded gently.
Shayna smiled into her cup. She knew her dad was kidding, and her mother knew it, too, but it had been this way for as long as she could remember. Her dad talked a rough and tough game, but she knew he’d give his last cent and last drop of blood for her.
“Shayna, come with me. I have something to show you,” Leigh said as she rose from the table. She led Shayna to the extra bedroom and opened the closet. It was packed with the accumulated junk a family acquired over the years, but hanging in the center was a long opaque white plastic bag. Leigh reached and handed it out.
“What’s this?” Shayna asked as she took the hanger, her dad appearing and propping in the door to watch.
Leigh tore the bag open to reveal a medium gray wool suit. “We bought this for you.”
Shayna took the suit and looked it over as her mother returned to the closet, coming back with a pair of black pumps with a two-inch heel and two blouses, one white and one black. Shayna ran her hand over the fabric of the suit, noting the softness, and knew by instinct this was no cheap off-the-rack suit from a discount store.
“I picked it out,” her dad said behind her, making her giggle. He didn’t even pick out his own clothes, the Air Force telling him what to wear at work while his wife did the same at home.
Shayna carefully laid the suit on the bed and hugged her mother then her father. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”
“Every professional woman should have at least one good suit,” her mother said as they hugged. “I didn’t want you looking like a waif on your interviews. There’s one more thing.” Leigh reached into the closet one last time and pulled out a brown leather briefcase, handing it to Shayna.
Shayna took it, struggling to hold her tears. “Thank you,” she blubbered. Like the suit, the briefcase was of impeccable quality. Her family wasn’t rich, her father a Senior Master Sergeant and her mother a pharmacist, and she knew they’d already sacrificed so much so she could go to veterinary school.
“I got to go, Punkin,” Bob said as he backed out of the door. “Go knock ‘em dead.”
“Thanks, Daddy. I will.” She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered as she pulled back.
He gave her a wink then turned and headed down the short hall before she saw the tears in his eyes.
Leigh helped Shayna bundle her stuff into her room, hanging the suit in her closet and laying the blouses out. “Which do you think, Mom? Black or white?” she asked. The black was a scoop neck while the white was a button front.
Leigh considered a moment. “I don’t know. The white is more business-like, but the black looks so good with the suit.” She tapped a finger against her lips a moment. “When you spoke to Dr. Lowerence, how did he come across? Did he seem laid back or more formal?”
“Oh, very laid back. I think he probably has a good sense of humor. He told me if I wore scrubs we could clean out kennels while we talked.”
“Black, then. It’ll hide the poo stains better, too.”
Shayna laughed. “That’s good! I’ll use that!”
“Hurry. You don’t have a lot of time to get ready, and I’m dying to see you in it before I go to work.”
***
Shayna stepped out of her car, tugged her suit to remove any wrinkles, and took a deep breath to steel her nerves. I got this! she reminded herself for at least the tenth time since she left home.
Standing straight and tall, her head held high, she marched into Lowerence Veterinary Clinic. “I have an appointment with Dr. Peter Lowerence,” she said as she approached the woman behind the counter.
“Dr. Shephard?” the woman asked.
Shayna felt a chill pass through her. Though technically not true yet, she rather liked the sound of that. “Just Shayna,” she said with a smile.
“Okay, Shayna,” the woman said with a big grin. “Pete is expecting you. Last door on the right at the end of the hall,” she said as she pointed.
Giving her suit another tug, she gave the woman a smile and turned and walked down the short hall, rapping on the doorframe outside the cluttered office. “Dr. Lowerence?”
“Yes?”
“Shayna Shephard. I spoke with you on the phone.”
“Oh! Yes, of course,” he said as he rose and extended his hand. “Please come in and have a seat. Sorry about the mess.”
She took the offered hand then sat down. She didn’t know what she expected when she spoke to Dr. Lowerence on the phone, but the grandfatherly man behind the desk wasn’t it. Peter Lowerence couldn’t have been an inch over five-six. In her heels, she felt like she towered over him but he didn’t appear to notice or care. His handshake was warm and firm, which was also unexpected considering he was so thin. His snow white hair, what was left of it, was cut short, and, perhaps, trying to make up for the lack of hair on his head, he sported a Van Dyke beard, also snow white and cut short.
“So, Ms. Shephard, Steve tells me you were one of his star pupils.”
“I tried, sir. Dr. Hench is an excellent teacher. If I may ask, how do you know him?”
Peter smiled. “He used to work for me when I had a clinic in Redding, California. Big operation. Me and four other doctors owned it and Steve was one of our residents. I sold my shares when my wife passed and moved to Vegas to be closer to the grandkids. Once I got here I found retirement didn’t suit me so I opened up this little clinic just to keep me busy. But now fifteen years later, I’m ready to retire. That’s where you, or someone like you, comes in.”
“Sir?”
“I’m nearly eighty and I’m ready to throw in the towel. I’ve got a five-year-old great-granddaughter now and I want to spend my time spoiling her rotten then sending her home to my grandson. I’m looking for someone to take over the clinic from me, but I’m not willing to turn the place over to just anybody. I want to make sure my boys and girls are going to be well taken care of.”
She blinked, trying to keep up. “Your…clients?”
He chuckled. “Yes, in a way. My clients but, more importantly, their pets. I don’t have a big practice now, and I like it that way. It’s just me, a tech, and a couple of girls to keep the place running, but I care about these cats and dogs like they’re my own. It’s much better than when there were so many clients they
were just another name on a chart. I’m small enough now that the only reason I need the chart is to jog my memory. I know these animals. I may be getting cranky in my old age, but I don’t want to sell to someone who’s more concerned about making money than doing God’s work. I’m looking for someone who’s doing this because they want to, not because they invested all this money in their education and now they’re looking to make that back as fast as possible.”
“Yes, sir. I can understand that.”
He smiled. “I want to bring someone in and work with them for a year or two. Bring them up to speed and make sure they’re going to be a good fit, then in a couple of years, see if they’re interested in taking over the practice. The last person I brought in, we didn’t click. He was more interested in making money than taking care of the animals. He was a good doctor, I’ll give him that, but about six months in, he started talking about all these expansion plans for when he took over. Stuff like that. It rubbed me wrong so he’s not here anymore.”
She nodded. It was everything she wanted, wrapped up in a bow. “I would like the opportunity to, well, join you. Do God’s work, as you say.”
“You don’t have your license to practice yet?”
“No. I sent in the paperwork this morning.”
“That’s okay. I’d want you to consult for a while anyway before I turn you loose on your own.” He grinned at her to make sure she understood he was kidding. “I trust Steve, but I want to see your work with my own eyes first.”
“Perfectly understandable.”
“Okay. Let me show you around,” he said as he stood. “Since you’re wearing a suit, I guess we won’t be mucking out kennels.”
She laughed. “I wore a black top, though, to help hide the poop stains.”
Pete laughed and motioned to the door. “I think we’re going to get along just fine. Right this way, Shayna.”
He escorted her around the office and introduced her to the staff. It was a warm and friendly place and the staff seemed to adore Peter. The waiting area was attractive and whimsical with cat and dog pictures splashed on the walls, while the working portion of the clinic had three diagnostic rooms with stainless steel fixtures and a small surgical suite in the back. As Pete walked her around, she noted that all the equipment was up-to-date and of good quality, and place was immaculately clean and well maintained. Dr. Peter Lowerence obviously took great pride in his clinic.
They finished the tour in the bullpen, as he called it: the area where sick animals were housed as they were treated. As he talked she noticed he kept sticking his fingers through the doors of the pens to scratch an ear here, allow his fingers to be licked there. This was a man who cared.
“What’s this guy’s story?” she asked, nodding to a puppy cowering in the back of his cage. He was predominately black with white legs, chest, throat and belly, and another splash of white on his muzzle and the tip of his tail. His pointy face tagged him as some sort of shepherd mix.
Peter frowned. “Stray. Mandy picked him up a couple days ago. He’s malnourished, eaten up with parasites, and probably abused. We’re going to try to fatten him up and get him healthy, then put him up for adoption.” He shook his head. “He’s a hard case. We’re having to force feed him at the moment because he won’t eat on his own and we’re trying to socialize him, but…”
“Mind if I try?”
“Go ahead.”
Shayna opened the door and tried to coax the animal to her, offering him a cookie Pete handed her. The pup looked at her and tried to shrink farther back into his cage. When she moved in, trying to entice the animal, he began to growl while baring his teeth. She backed off because she could tell the dog wasn’t bluffing.
“Wow,” she said as she closed the cage. “He’s a little fighter. How did you ever get him here?”
Pete chuckled. “You should see Mandy. He bit the stuffing out of her in three places. We have to sedate him to feed him. If he doesn’t start eating on his own, and get past his fear so we can handle him, I’m afraid we’re going to have to put him down.”
“That would be a shame. He looks like he’d turn into a beautiful dog.”
Pete noted the tears that came to Shayna’s eyes when he mentioned putting the dog down. Her! She cares! She’s the type of person I’m looking for. He glanced at his watch. “I know you have to get to work, but I would like to offer you a position. You interested?”
“Yes! Very much!”
“Follow me,” he said, leading her back to his office then closing the door. “Obviously I can’t hire you as a doctor until your license arrives, but I would like to offer you a vet tech position to start. I’ll pay you a little more, say forty, until your license arrives. When that happens, I’ll raise your pay to eighty. There will be a six-month probationary period. After that, we’ll see where it goes. If you’re still here in a year, we can begin to talk about the next step. I offer medical and three weeks vacation to start. You will be on call with me for the first six months, then every other week alone.” He paused as he thought. “I think that’s the major things. Any questions?”
Shayna sat, still in shock that he was offering a position, trying to absorb it all. “No, sir. Thank you, Dr. Lowerence! Thank you for giving me the chance!”
Pete chuckled. “Okay, let’s get one thing straight right away. If you’re going to work here, I’m Pete. I’m not Doctor, or sir, or any of that other stuff. Just call me Pete. We don’t stand on formality around here.”
“Yes, uh, Pete.”
He chuckled again. “See? That wasn’t so hard was it?”
“No doc…Pete.”
“When can you start?”
“Tomorrow, but I would like to give a two week notice if I could.”
He grinned. “That’ll be fine. I’ve been doing this over fifty years. I don’t think two weeks is going to make much difference at this point. Stop in sometime before you start and fill out all the paperwork, if you don’t mind. It can be a madhouse around here sometimes and I would rather have you helping out than filling out paper work.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll stop in next week.”
“What did I tell you about that?” he teased as he rose and extended his hand. “Welcome aboard, Shayna. I’m looking forward to working with you.”
She stood and took his hand, wondering if he could feel her hand shaking. “Thank you, Pete. I look forward to working with you, too. I have a feeling that my real education is about to begin.”
He said nothing as he escorted her into the hall, but he was already getting a good feeling about her. “Good doctors never stop learning. Even crotchety old farts like me.”
She nodded and smiled at the woman sitting in the waiting area with an obese cat lying in her lap, and it was all she could do to not starting jumping with joy.
***
Shayna wheeled her car into the Tops employee parking lot. She would have liked to go home and changed, but she didn’t have time. She chucked her briefcase into the trunk of the car then sprinted for the entrance, moving as fast as she could in her heels. She quickly changed, tugging her uniform as she found her assignment on the board, and then hurried out.
She was buzzing as she slowed her walk to a more dignified pace before stepping into the tournament room. There were no clocks visible, but the first chime announcing that the tournament would start in fifteen minutes sounded just as she entered the room, and she relaxed, letting out a sigh in relief. That was cutting it a little tight!
“I was afraid you wouldn’t be here,” Beast said behind her.
She turned and smiled. “Why would think that? I’m not the one who might lose their bankroll in a game of chance and skill.”
“True,” he said slowly. He was a good reader of body language, and Shayna was radiating excitement. “I guess your final went okay.”
“Yes!” she gushed, dying to tell someone, anyone, about her morning. “A ninety-two. But even better, I had an interview this morning.” She tried to reel in her
excitement, but it was hard; it was damn hard. “I got a job!”
“Well, congratulations are in order, then! Seems I was right and lady luck is riding on your shoulder. Out of school one day and you have already secured a position. Seems to me I remember someone telling how hard it was to find a job as a vet. Hmmm…who was that? I can’t remember.”
She grinned. “I don’t know, but I wouldn’t listen to a thing they have to say. They obviously don’t know what they’re talking about.”
Beast chuckled. “The tournament is going to start in a couple of minutes, but I’ve asked that I be seated in your section for the rest of the tournament. I want some of that Shayna she-won’t-tell-me-her-last-name luck to rub off on me. I hope you don’t mind. I also hope you don’t mind giving me a rap for luck at each new table.”