Precipice of Doubt

by Mardi Alexander

  Her limbs felt as heavy as her heart. She showered, then stood in her office. She remembered showing Jodi through the room only days before. Her eyes fixed on the photograph of her grandparents’ smiling faces. Disappointment and shame ran from her conscience like rain off a tin roof. A wave of cold settled into her bones. Silently she closed the door in a vain attempt to distance herself from the emptiness that echoed within her.

  She had no appetite. Broken, with nothing else to do, she went to bed, curled up tight, a pillow clutched to her middle.

  As each day drew to a close, Jodi marvelled at how satisfied she felt. Although she still didn’t trust herself to do any surgery, her mind was beginning to reignite, engaging and relishing in the challenges of working through cases as opposed to wading through the mental fog that had previously settled around her mind and confidence, choking it ever so slowly.

  The only downside was Cole. Just as Jodi was becoming more and more invested in her work and reinvigorated, with every day she was conscious of Cole withdrawing further and further away.

  As she pushed herself in the pool, lap after lap, images of Cole flashed in her mind. Her open smiling face and easy laugh had been replaced by a pale, tense gauntness and dark circles under her eyes.

  When Jodi entered a room, Cole no longer looked at her for any length of time and left as quickly as was polite. Still as ever proficient in her job, Cole made sure that neither she nor Cate lacked for professional support, but for all her efficiency, the Cole she knew was fading before her eyes, leaving a feeling of hurt and unrest to sit low and heavy in her gut, knowing she had been the cause of a lot of Cole’s change.

  Jodi finished her laps and pulled herself out of the pool, her gaze automatically going to the bench where Cole would often be waiting for her with a coffee or tasty treat on hand. The sight of the empty bench hit her in the middle of the chest, stunning her briefly. She walked over and sat on it, analysing the feeling. The diagnosis, in the end, was fairly simple. She missed her friend. And her lover.

  Cate was fun, challenging, and stimulating, and to her honest surprise, Jodi found herself enjoying the role of being a teacher and mentor to someone as bright and as receptive as Cate.

  But Cate was not Cole. Cole nurtured the soul of the practice. And since she and Cole had become distant, she sensed that a warmth had disappeared from the practice. From her. From them.

  Jodi stood and briskly wiped herself down. She couldn’t miss Cole. She was still angry with her. Shrugging off the melancholy, it felt easier to go back to feeling affronted and manipulated. And yet, here she was with Cate on board, enjoying work again, and most importantly, relishing in the satisfaction of her clients, two legs and four.

  Was she being pigheaded and proud, for the sake of saving face? No. She was still angry with Cole.

  Jodi arrived at work a little later than normal, having been up half the night helping to deliver some Jack Russell terrier puppies. Thankfully, there hadn’t been any complications and the little mother whelped them herself. It felt good to take her time, enjoy her swim, knowing there was another vet there to open and not feeling pressured to get up five minutes after she had gone to bed, needing to grind her way through the following workday horrendously sleep-deprived.

  She entered through the back door and was greeted by silence. She walked out front and found Mandy at the counter, working on a drug stock-take order.

  “Oh, hi, Jodi.”

  “Where is everyone?”

  Mandy motioned with her head. “Room one.” A grimace briefly flashed across her face. “Not a good start to the morning. Mrs. Jones brought Tiger in. She found him in the gutter out the front of her place this morning. Looks like a hit and run.”

  “Is he…?”

  Mandy shook her head. “It doesn’t look good,” she whispered.

  “Right then. I’d better—” Before Jodi finished her sentence, Cate came out of the room and shut the door behind her. Her face was flushed with a contrasting pale outline around her mouth and nose. Her jaw was clenched tight, the muscles jumping under the glare of the fluorescent lighting over the counter.

  “Is everything all right?”

  Cate scrubbed her hand across her face and up into her hair, holding it up off her forehead. She blew out a breath. “I. No, Mrs. Jones…” Cate gesticulated her hand towards the closed door. “No.” She shook her head and frowned. “I mean, yes, but no.”

  “I think you need to stop. Collect yourself”—Jodi pulled out a chair and motioned for her to sit—“and tell me, clinically, what the situation is and the course of proposed treatment.”

  Cate relayed that Mrs. Jones’s sixteen-year-old cat had what appeared to be massive internal trauma, presumably from being hit by a vehicle. Given Cate’s description, and knowing Tiger quite well, Jodi saw the outcome unfolding in her mind even before Cate stated the medically obvious.

  “And what are your treatment options, Dr. Fletcher?”

  “I can euthanize straight up. Or prep for surgery and hope he survives, which I doubt he will, given his age and circumstances.”

  “Or?”

  “Mrs. Jones has opted to keep him comfortable, with pain relief, and to sit with him.”

  “They were all sensible, viable options to present. So why do you look like you’re unravelling?”

  “I hate this part of the job. I completely suck at it. I didn’t know what to say, how to sound believable, how to be connected yet dispassionate enough to help her. I just…I got lost in the moment and I…thank God for Cole. She really saved my bacon in there. She knew all the right words. When to talk, when not to.” A dark wry half grin tweaked the corner of Cate’s mouth. “I found myself blabbering like an idiot, just to fill the space, even though I knew it was wrong. But Cole…” Cate shook her head and looked up at Jodi, a gleam of awe in her eyes. “She’s brilliant.” Cate started to stand. “I need to get back in there.”

  Jodi stopped her rise with a hand on her shoulder. “Why don’t you take five and grab yourself a drink. I’ll pop in and see how they’re doing.”

  Relief poured off Cate. “Thanks, Jodi.”

  Jodi nodded, smiled softly, and shooed her to the back kitchen. She remembered all too well the early years, starting out, learning to deal with losing patients and supporting the owners in their grief. Like it or not, it was a part of their job. In time she knew Cate would find her own way of managing that part. But for now, her young learned colleague could do with a break.

  Jodi quietly opened the door and stood silently in the doorway. Cole had found Mrs. Jones a chair and a stool for herself. There were tissues on the stainless steel bench. Cole helped support Mrs. Jones, as Tiger lay wrapped in a soft cotton blanket in her lap, her gnarled fingers stroking lovingly through his thick, soft apricot coat. Their heads were close together and Jodi could just make out their murmurings.

  Jodi stepped forward and put a light hand on Cole’s shoulder, leaving it there when Cole met her eyes. Her other hand rested on Mrs. Jones’s shoulder. “Cate told me about Tiger. I’m so sorry.”

  Mrs. Jones sniffed and dabbed at her wet eyes. “He was a brave lad. Your girls made sure he felt no pain. I shall miss him terribly.” Her shoulders shook with her grief. The three of them stood, connected physically and through the love and care for an old, much-loved cat. “I think I’d like to take him home now, if that’s all right?”

  “Yes, yes. Of course.” Jodi looked about the room wondering what arrangements she needed to set in place to get Mrs. Jones and Tiger home.

  “If it’s all right with you, I’ll take Mrs. Jones home,” Cole said softly.

  “Yes. That’s fine. Take your time. We’ve got things covered here.”

  Cole wrapped her arm around Mrs. Jones. “Let’s get you home then.”

  Jodi lifted Tiger from the old lady’s arms and followed behind her and Cole as they went discreetly out the back door, away from curious eyes in the waiting room. After Mrs. Jones got into the car, Jodi g
ently laid Tiger’s body in her lap, while Cole got into the driver’s seat.

  Mrs. Jones grasped Cole’s and Jodi’s hands. “Thank you. Thank you both.”

  Cole gave the old woman’s hand an ever so brief squeeze. “You’re welcome. You and Tiger are family.”

  Jodi carefully closed the car door and watched as they drove away. Cole had uttered just a few simple heartfelt words that summed up everything—the trust between a caregiver and a client, and a client and their much-loved pet.

  In that one moment, as the car disappeared from view, Jodi stood alone and forgot why she was angry. She was reminded of the beauty at Cole’s core. Something that her stubbornness had blinded her to. She realized, in that moment, she could forgive Cole almost anything.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Doing anything fun for the rest of the weekend?” Cate said as they watched the last Saturday client walk out the door with their toy poodle in tow.

  Jodi stole a glance at Cole, who was on the phone scheduling an appointment for next week.

  “Yeah. As a matter of fact I am. Do you remember Pip Atkins, the wildlife carer for WREN?”

  “Um, short in stature, but not in giving you a hard time, with a cute yellow Lab?”

  “The one and only. Her partner, Charlie, spent some time working here last year and rehabilitated a wedge-tail eagle that came in with a broken wing. She released him some months ago and I think I spotted him on one of my hikes. So the four of us”—Jodi pointed to Cole with her chin—“are going out to see if it really was him.”

  “Cool. It’s supposed to be a gem of a day on Sunday, but then maybe thunderstorms later.”

  “We’ll be back well before then.”

  Cole was still talking to the client and writing notes.

  “Will you tell Cole I’m heading out to Pip’s and I’ll see her there?”

  “No dramas. Enjoy your time in the bush and don’t forget your mozzie spray and sunscreen.”

  Jodi waved over her shoulder as she walked into her office. “Already in my backpack.” She changed out of her scrubs, shoved her feet into her hiking sneakers, grabbed her keys off the desk, and headed out the back.

  There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and certainly not one hint of the rain Cate had mentioned. Jodi got in the truck, turned the key, and backed out of the clinic’s drive. As she drove through town, she decided to stop at the liquor store and buy a nice bottle of wine for Pip and Charlie. Once on the road again, she rolled the windows all the way down and let the smells of the countryside wash through. She left the scents of the ocean and headed inland where sugar cane fields had been burnt the night before. The tall bright green stalks had been reduced to leaning yellow and black rods, giving off pungent sweet and sour odours. Black kites, sea eagles, whistling kites, cattle egrets, and crows stood vigil nearby as the cane was harvested, giving them access to bugs and other food.

  Jodi put a Pink CD into the player and sang along, not caring that she was mostly out of tune. It had been a very long time since she’d done that, or even hummed for that matter. But today, she felt light and happy, such a stark contrast to the heaviness she’d felt as of late. Although she and Cole hadn’t really reconciled, things seemed to be getting back to a more normal ambiance at the clinic. She’d let go of the anger, finally admitting, only to herself, that Cole had been right all along. She should’ve hired someone a long time ago. But, to be fair, Cate had only just recently graduated, and she was glad she had waited for her, albeit unintentionally.

  Charlie was coming out of the house when Jodi drove up. She rolled the window down and handed Charlie the bottle of wine.

  “Here’s a little prezzie for you. Congrats on sending in your application.”

  Charlie rolled her eyes. “I’m so glad to have that thing done and dusted.” She looked at the empty passenger seat. “Where’s Cole?”

  “She’ll be along. She had some things to finish up. So what happens with your visa now?”

  “I wait. And of course worry.”

  “Nah, you’ll be right.”

  “Pip started on the feeds about fifteen minutes ago. Why don’t you go throw your stuff in the cabin? She should be done by the time you get back.” Charlie raised the bottle. “And this might even be chilled by then.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “Hey, are you and Cole okay with sharing the cabin? I mean we can—”

  “We’ll be fine. But thanks for asking.” Jodi winked and put the truck in gear. But as she drove off, she knew she’d sounded a lot more confident than she felt. In actuality, when Cole did arrive, it would be the first time they’d been together outside of work. So much had changed. Or had it? She just couldn’t be sure. Nor did she really know what would happen once they were both under the same roof in a very intimate location.

  She pointed the Rover down a barely perceptible path, which she knew would bring her to the cabin. After several minutes of driving in first gear, she cleared the thick shrubbery and the cabin appeared just beyond.

  Large smooth-barked gums with tall canopies surrounded the structure and took over as far as she could see. The cabin was built on a hillside and completely supported on stilts. Wide slabs of nearly black wood covered the sides. Moss coated the eaves, contrasting nicely against the dark-toned tin roof. A magnificent staghorn fern clung to a large tree, level with the window. A railed ramp with a lot of air underneath and a barely discernible incline led to the front door. A window looked out on either side of the walkway and an overhang protected the entrance.

  She’d only been in the cabin once, and that was years ago when Pip had given her a quick tour on their way past to the big joey pen. At that point, it’d only been about half done as Pip was building it by herself. Since its completion, life had gotten in the way and they’d never had an occasion to revisit the structure. So Jodi had no idea what to expect.

  Jodi grabbed her duffel from the back of the truck and stood for a moment on the ramp. Yellow-tailed black cockatoos called from the branches above. Her eyes were drawn to rustling down the hill. She smiled as three red-necked wallabies paused their eating of the tender grass and watched her. Jodi had no doubt these were ones Pip had raised or were offspring of those she had.

  The door opened easily and she stopped short to take it all in. The interior was painted white and very stylishly decorated. The main feature, which she’d forgotten about, was the gum tree growing through the floor, its trunk extending through the highest part of the cabin. The trunk was wrapped in heavy rubber top and bottom, where it grew through the floorboards and ceiling. Pip had painted the ceiling to look like a canopy of leaves with glimpses of branches.

  The kitchen, although small, was still impressive. The granite benches were wide and there was plenty of storage space. The stove and refrigerator sat at opposite ends of the benches, which were divided by a spacious sink.

  A two-shelved bookcase sat atop a desk, one shelf crammed with various field identification guides for mammals, insects, birds, reptiles, trees, and flowers. The other shelf held stacks of folded maps.

  “Wow.” Jodi tossed her bag on the queen-sized bed, which sat upon a foundation of drawers. It was situated beneath a skylight. She walked through to the far end and out the door. A wide porch extended out and wrapped around the left corner. She grasped the railing and looked over the seemingly endless entanglement of canopy.

  Jodi’s musings were interrupted by the sound of the front door closing. She turned around and smiled because she was sure she had worn the same expression of amazement as Cole did this very minute.

  “Nice, hey?” Jodi called from her spot against the railing.

  “Holy smokes. I would never have dreamed the inside would look like this.” Cole set her bag down next to the lounge that sat to the left of the door.

  “I know. Come out and have a look. It’s incredible.” Jodi turned, braced her arms against the parapet, and continued to admire the scenery. She felt more than heard Cole come up beside her.
It seemed Cole was conscious of keeping a fair bit of distance.

  Silence stretched between them.

  “Are you okay with me staying here with you?” Cole said without looking at her.

  “Yeah, sure. Why would you ask?”

  “Well, for one thing, there’s only one bed. And then there’s—”

  “Cole, don’t worry about it. We’re both adults.”

  Cole sighed deeply. “I kind of thought, maybe hoped, we were more than that.”

  Jodi turned and rubbed Cole’s arm. “Come here.” She pulled Cole into a hug. “I just need some more time. Can you give that to me?” Cole nodded. “I promise that after we get back from this hike, you and I’ll sit down and have a heart to heart. I know we need to talk about us and what happens next, but I just don’t think this is the time or place, y’know? I want to get back to being simple, for us to enjoy this, and being here with each other and with friends.”

  Cole sniffed and pulled back. “Yeah, I’d like that.” She smiled and Jodi’s heart melted a little more.

  “You ready to head up to the main house? I know for a fact there’s a nice bottle of wine chilling in their fridge.”

  “Do we have to walk?” Cole fidgeted a bit. “I mean, we’ll be coming back here after dark and there might be…things…on the path.”

  Jodi threw her head back and laughed. And it felt so good. “Come on. I’ll drive.”

  “Oh, thank God.”

  “What time can we head out tomorrow?” Charlie refilled everyone’s wine glass. She was so excited to possibly get a glimpse of Big Bird. Would he remember her and maybe fly in closer? Her heart sped up just a little at the thought.

  Pip snaked an arm around her waist and squeezed. “If you guys drink any more, it won’t be until afternoon, sweet.”

  “Aw, come on. We’re celebrating me finally mailing the damned visa application. One more won’t hurt.”