“Thanks.” Debby watched Kristen flip the burgers. “Maybe Jaylin’ll go dancing with me Saturday night. I’ll tell her you’re my friend, okay?”
“Sure, but like I said, she isn’t interested in getting involved with anyone.”
“It’s just dancing, Kris.” She tilted her head and smiled. “You’re all right with it, aren’t you?”
“Of course.” Kristen moved the foil wrapped vegetables off the grill and plopped them on a plate. It’s Jaylin’s choice.
“Good. You’d tell me if you weren’t, wouldn’t you?” Debby rested her hand on Kristen’s shoulder.
Kristen took a deep breath. “Yeah, I would. I’ll admit I like Jaylin a lot, but she deserves to meet someone totally available to her, and she might love to dance.”
“You let me know if you change your mind, and I’ll back off. Are we going to eat sometime today?” Debby looked stern, but her small smile gave her away.
“I’m on it.” Kristen lifted the burgers off the grill and placed them on hamburger buns. “Let’s eat and I’ll show you my parade plans.”
*
“Hi, Dad. How’re you feeling today?” Kristen had been sitting by her father’s bed for ten minutes, hoping he’d awaken for her visit. He finally did, but she could see him struggle to figure out who she was. “It’s Kristen. Your daughter. I came to visit you.”
“Kristen? I have a daughter named Kristen. Do you know her?”
Her father’s lucid days were becoming fewer. Kristen had hoped to take her dad to the Memorial Day parade. Now she wasn’t sure if it would be wise.
“It’s me, Dad. I’m your daughter, Kristen.”
“I know who you are. I’m glad to see you, honey. Is your mom with you?”
Kristen cringed. “No, she’s not.”
“She works too much. She’s a nurse, you know. At that big hospital downtown.”
“Would you like to sit in your chair for a while?”
“Yes. That would be nice. I can’t seem to get around as easily as I used to. Maybe you could give me a hand.”
“Of course, Dad.” Kristen guided him by the arm as he pushed off his bed and shuffled to the chair. “Where are your slippers?”
“I don’t have any. I lost them in the last big snowstorm. My daughter bought me some warm socks for Christmas last year. I hide them under my mattress, at the head of the bed.” Her father whispered the last few words as if someone was listening to their conversation.
“Good. They’ll be safe there.” Kristen retrieved his socks from exactly where he told her they were and put them on his feet. “There. Feel better?”
“Yes. Thank you. Did you hear about that little dog down the hall?”
Kristen’s stomach flipped. Was Trixie sick again? “No. What happened?”
“She had another attack.”
Did he mean that last one a few weeks ago, or the first one? “What sort of attack, Dad?”
“That pretty young veterinarian had to take her away for a day. Doris told me she gave her an IV. That’s serious. I know we always hooked our patients to an IV when they were having surgery. She must have been pretty sick. That doctor is very nice. She stopped by to say hello before she left.”
“I’m glad she did. She didn’t tell you what was wrong with Trixie, did she?”
“No, she didn’t.” He stopped and stared at the wall in a pose Kristen recognized as his way of trying to reclaim a lost memory. “She told me that little dogs should never have chocolate. Did you know that? I’ve never heard of such a thing, but I promised her I’d never give the dog any. I don’t think I have any left.” He stuffed his hands between the sides of his chair and the seat cushion searching for the candy and came up with nothing. “No. I must have eaten it all.”
“I’ll bring you some shortbread cookies tomorrow, Dad.”
“Thank you, honey. Make sure it’s after dinner. The nurses tell my doctor if I don’t finish my meals.”
“I’ll come by about seven.”
“Bring your mother with you. I can’t remember the last time we had dinner together, but I think it was last Sunday. We had a pot roast with mashed potatoes. She’s such a good cook.”
Her father’s eyelids drooped and he slumped sideways. She gently leaned him back into his recliner, covered him with his afghan, and tucked it in around him.
Kristen allowed her tears to stream down her face. She vividly remembered the last meal her father and mother had shared, and it was pot roast. Her mother had been too sick from her chemo treatment to cook, so Kristen had made the meal. That was seven years ago.
She wiped her face and blew her nose before leaving.
*
“Good morning, Sarah.” Jaylin leaned on the counter and set a bag of warm bagels on the desk behind it. “I stopped at Panera Bread in town and picked up some bagels.”
“Ooooh!” Sarah cooed. “I love Panera’s bagels. Is there one of the cinnamon ones in here?” She riffled through the bag as she asked.
Jaylin laughed, pleased that she could do something to show her appreciation for Sarah’s help with the new clinic. “Yep. They’re my favorite, too. I wanted to do a little something to thank you for your help these past few weeks.”
“No problem, Dr. Meyers. It hasn’t been a hardship. I enjoy scheduling things. Before I forget, a Mrs. James called yesterday and left a message on voice mail.”
Jaylin’s stomach knotted at the thought of the tiny dog getting into more chocolate. “Nobody called me about an emergency. What did she say?”
Sarah looked up from the bag of bread. “Sorry. I should’ve clarified. I’m just excited about breakfast. I have access to all the voice mail messages at home, so I check them daily. Her message wasn’t an emergency. Her exact words were, ‘Trixie misses her Dr. Meyers. Come and visit when you have a chance.’ I guess you made an impression on her.”
Jaylin smiled. “Trixie was the little dog that got into chocolate. I’ll have to stop by and see her.” Maybe she’d run into Kristen. Jaylin reflected on the last time she’d seen Kristen there. She’d invited Jaylin to her stump race and lunch as “friends.” At night, under the covers, “friends” turned into so much more. As long as that’s where she kept it, there was no harm. She flushed slightly at the previous night’s delicious images, and forced herself to focus on Sarah.
“We had one more call that wasn’t an emergency. It was from Jill, with Bailey. She wanted you to know that her daughter’s sock is now in the garbage with the poop bags, and Bailey is running around the yard again. Why would she put a sock in the garbage?”
Jaylin laughed. “Bailey ate a sock, and it was stuck in his intestines. That’s why Jill brought him in.”
Sarah shook her head. “Dogs! Thanks for the bagels, Doc. I’ll talk to you later.” Sarah grabbed the phone on the third ring and opened the appointment program on her computer.
Jaylin went to her office and sat at her desk. She took a bite out of a fresh bagel and considered the appropriateness of calling Kristen. She seized her cell phone and dialed before she could change her mind.
Hi. This is Kristen. Leave a message.
“Hi, Kristen. This is Jaylin. I just wanted to say hi. I’m looking forward to the race on Saturday and to seeing you.” She hung up and sighed. The message was utterly awkward and totally insufficient. She wanted to say more, but what she couldn’t really fathom. Hopefully, she’d be more articulate come Saturday.
Jaylin went to prepare for her first patient.
“Good morning, Janet. I’m Dr. Meyers. Who do we have here?” Jaylin looked at the obviously pregnant Yorkshire terrier and smiled.
“This is Mable. I don’t know what’s wrong with her. I haven’t been overfeeding her, honestly, but she’s gained so much weight that I didn’t know what to do, so I called Dr. Berglund because he takes care of our minis, and my neighbor told me that he takes care of dogs now, too, and I didn’t know what to do.” Janet stood holding the little dog like a child holds her t
eddy bear.
“Let’s look at Mable. Would you set her on the table, so I can examine her?” Jaylin hoped Janet would take a breath so she wouldn’t have two patients in her exam room.
Janet carefully placed the tiny dog on the table but held on to her with both hands.
Jaylin rested her stethoscope on Mable’s chest and positioned it between Janet’s fingers on Mable’s enlarged belly. She had a hard time believing the owner didn’t know her dog was pregnant, but she was a small dog with lots of hair.
“It looks as if Mable’s going to be a mom. She’s pregnant.”
Janet released her hold on Mable as if she were on fire and stepped away from the table. Jaylin rested her hand on the tiny dog so she wouldn’t scoot away. “Are you all right, Janet? Your dog looks healthy. She’ll probably only have one or two puppies.”
“Oh, God. My Mable was raped.” Janet sank to the floor and covered her eyes as she cried.
“Janet?” Jaylin picked up Mable and sat on the floor next to her. She held Mable in her lap. “Janet. Mable is fine.”
“You don’t understand, Dr. Meyers. This isn’t a planned pregnancy. Mable isn’t a year old yet. She can’t have puppies until she’s a year old.” Janet’s tears stopped as quickly as they had begun.
“Dogs go into heat and start their periods as early as six months of age, sometimes. Do you have a male dog in the house?” Jaylin asked.
“My husband has a little boy, Mickey, but he isn’t a year old either.”
“Boy dogs can impregnate girl dogs as early as six months. Maybe it would be a good idea to neuter Mickey. Is he also a Yorkie?” Jaylin wasn’t sure she was getting through to Janet. She sat staring at her dog as if she were an alien being. “Janet?”
Janet got up from the floor and took a deep breath. “Yes. I’m fine. Mickey is Mable’s brother. Thank you, Dr. Meyers. I’ll take my little girl home now.”
Jaylin scrambled to her feet and gently placed the pregnant dog in Janet’s hands. “Do you want some information—”
“I don’t want anything. I’m going home to tell that no-good husband of mine that his dog got Mable pregnant. Her own brother! I’ll stop and see Sarah on my way out to take care of any charges for this visit. Thank you again.”
“You’re welcome. Let me know if you need anything.” Jaylin leaned on the counter and watched Janet whisper tenderly to Mable as she carried her out. This would go down as one of her oddest client stories. She wished Kristen could have been here to see this one. She’d prided herself on her diplomacy throughout the years of her veterinary practice, but some days it was hard not to laugh at the outrageousness of some clients.
Chapter Fifteen
Jaylin scanned the parking lot before parking her car. She didn’t see Kristen’s Boxter, but she was there to see Trixie and Doris. She wanted to see Kristen, but she didn’t want her to think she was following her. She hadn’t heard anything from her after she had left her a message earlier in the day.
“Hello, Doris.” Jaylin spoke quietly. Doris dozed while sitting propped up on her bed with Trixie in her lap.
Doris snapped awake with surprising speed. “Dr. Meyers! It’s so nice to see you again. Especially since it’s a social call instead of an emergency. Look how good she looks.” Doris held the squirming little dog over her head to display her healthy tiny body.
“Yes. I’d say she looks quite robust.”
“Robust, yes, quite robust.” Doris sat straighter against the pillows propped behind her and grinned. “Thank you for all you did for her. You probably saved her life.”
“You’re welcome. No more chocolate, I see.” Jaylin held out her hands. “May I look her over?”
“Of course.” Doris passed the pocket-sized dog over.
Jaylin looked into her clear eyes, and setting her down on the bed, palpated her belly. Trixie wagged her tail furiously and tried to twirl in circles. Jaylin pulled out her stethoscope from her emergency kit and listened to the solid beating of the tiny heart. “Everything sounds great in there,” she said.
“Thank you, Doctor. Dr. Eckert’s daughter asked the nurses to put signs in the hallways warning us not to feed her anything. Especially not chocolate. That was nice of her, don’t you think?”
“Yes. She’s a nice person.” Jaylin could tell Doris was fighting to keep her eyes open. “I hate to leave so soon, but I have another patient to check on tonight. I doubt he’ll be as robust as Trixie.”
“Robust. Yes.” Trixie circled twice before settling back on Doris’s lap and both their eyes seemed to drift shut at the same time.
Jaylin slipped quietly out of the room and made her way to Dr. Eckert’s room on the way out.
“Good evening, Dr. Eckert.” Jaylin stepped into the room. He was sitting in his recliner watching a flat screen TV with the sound off. She watched Alex Trebek mouthing questions to contestants for a minute before moving into the room to see if the doctor was awake. “Hello, Dr. Eckert. I’m Jaylin. I met you a few weeks ago. I’m the vet—”
“I know who you are. Is that little dog sick again? I didn’t give it anything. I promised my daughter I wouldn’t, and I haven’t.”
“Good. That’s good. She’s a little thing so it doesn’t take much to make her sick. She’s doing fine now. How are you feeling?”
“Did my wife come with you today? She’s a nurse, you know. At that big hospital downtown.”
Jaylin scrambled to remember what Kristen had said about her mother. Died six years ago. “No, she didn’t come with me today.”
A look of sorrow fleetingly passed over his face and quickly disappeared. “She works too damn much.”
Slowly his head nodded forward and he closed his eyes. Jaylin wasn’t sure if she should offer to help move him to his bed. Best left to the nurses. I don’t want to intrude. She stopped on her way out to mention it to them. Somehow, doing a little something for Kristen’s father made her feel just a bit closer to Kristen. It was disconcerting just how much that meant to her these days.
*
The early evening shadows of the trees lengthened, giving the impression of fingers caressing the gravesites. Jaylin stood at Roy’s final resting place, bothered by her sudden impulse to pray. She hadn’t prayed since she was seventeen, and those earnest prayers had never been answered. She wasn’t going to bother now, even with the sudden impulse.
“Hi, brother.” Jaylin sat on the ground, leaned back on her hands, and stretched out her legs. She flopped her feet side to side, following the movement with her eyes. She shifted and crossed her legs. “I’ll have to remember to bring my folding chair next visit.”
She wished she could share so much with Roy. So many years lost. So many tears. Her thoughts flowed aimlessly, with Kristen at the forefront of most of them. Would she and Roy have gotten along? Maybe she could bring Kristen here for a picnic. Yeah, a picnic in a cemetery. That’s romantic. As odd as that sounded, some small voice told her that Kristen probably would enjoy it.
She walked to her car, bewildered by the unbidden phrases playing through her mind: Keep him safe. Keep him happy. She could only hope, if Roy had been in pain, that it had died when he did.
She rested her forehead on her steering wheel for a moment, trying to shake off the deep melancholy stealing through her. Her phone pinged, indicating a text message just as she backed out of the parking spot.
Burgers and beer? A just-friends dinner? K
Jaylin replied, her mood lifting instantly. Be there in fifteen minutes.
*
Jaylin couldn’t find an open spot when she pulled into the bar’s parking lot. She finally replaced one of the many pickup trucks and hurried into the bar. Kristen sat in a booth next to a window toward the front of the room. She looked a bit subdued but sexy as hell in her T-shirt and jeans. She leaned back in her chair and Jaylin’s breath hitched at her grin and quick appraisal. She steadied her breathing and slid into the seat across from Kristen.
“Hi. Sorry it took me l
onger than I figured to get here. There was a lot of evening traffic.”
“No problem. I’ve been nursing a beer. How are you?”
“Good. I’m good.” Better now.
“How’s everything at the clinic?” Kristen waved at the server.
“We’re getting busy. I’ve had one of Bill’s techs helping out when I need her.”
“I’m glad Bill had someone to help you.” Kristen picked at the label on her beer bottle as she spoke.
Jaylin wondered if their conversation would be this strained all evening. Maybe this was a mistake after all. Maybe it’s too late. The thought made her feel slightly dizzy. “I miss you, Kristen.” Jaylin wished she had a bottle of beer to fiddle with the way Kristen was doing.
“I miss working with you, too, Jaylin.” Kristen continued her label peeling, her brow furrowed.
Before Jaylin could speak, the server set a bottle of beer on the table, and she gratefully took a drink. She wondered if she should clarify her meaning. She missed Kristen, not just working with her. But then, Kristen’s choice of words was telling.
“I’m struggling a little,” Kristen said.
Jaylin set her bottle down and reached for Kristen’s left hand, but Kristen pulled it away. “What is it, Kristen? What’s wrong? I thought we were friends.”
“Yeah.” Kristen rubbed the side of her face.
She looked so lost. Jaylin reached for her hand again. This time Kristen took it and ran her thumb over Jaylin’s knuckles. Jaylin closed her eyes and reveled in the soothing sensation.
The Courage to Try Page 10