Since they were about the same height, she dangled an arm off his shoulder. “You always say that. And you know I’ve got great people around me who make it all come together. You’re one of those.”
“When they show up. They’re volunteers, Keegan. You need to find more go-getters like Abby.”
“Come on, Pete. Don’t drag me down this morning. We haven’t had a baby sea otter born here in more than four years. Minnie’s time is close. And you spend ten minutes with Sam, I guarantee it’ll bring you out of that mood you’re in. Wasn’t Betty cooperative this weekend?”
“Woman wants to get married. To me!”
Keegan laughed outright. “The nerve of some women. What is she thinking to want marriage from you?” But Pete was too far gone to see the sarcasm or humor in her words.
“My thoughts exactly.”
“So you had a fight with Betty and want sympathy from me. Nope. Not gonna happen.” When she saw Pete’s genuine deer-in-the-headlights look, she softened a little. “You gotta leave your past behind at some point, Pete. Do you care for Betty?”
“Sure I do. But marriage, Keegan? The last time…I don’t want to talk about it. Betty yapped at me all last night enough for two people. Just tell me where you want me to start. I need something to do.”
“I want you to keep an eye on Minnie and then go spend some time with the baby seal.”
“Shoot. I guess with the baby seal we’ll be opening fish school before long.”
Fish school meant they had to teach the babies how to recognize and catch their own supper, eat what they caught because otherwise the mammals didn’t have a clue how to do it because mama wasn’t around to instruct them in the art of survival. If not for fish school they would never make it back in the ocean.
“Most definitely,” Keegan agreed as she walked Pete to where Minnie played in her own pen. “But as soon as Russell gets in she goes to the tide pool. Abby’s in the main building occupied with the sick and injured.”
“I thought Abby worked all weekend. She usually gets Mondays off. See this is what I’m talking about. What happened to Tina?”
Tina Drayton was another volunteer from Scotts Valley. “Tina had car trouble. But she’ll be in before the field trip gets here. And you know Abby. Russ calls in late so she foregoes her day off to come in, knowing we have a busy Monday ahead.”
Pete shook his head. “You really need to talk to Russell. What’s his deal now?”
Keegan rolled her eyes. “Apparently he has girlfriend issues this morning.”
Russell Dennis was a retired, tattooed, former merchant marine, a great addition to the staff of volunteers but around town he had a reputation as a major ladies’ man, even though the guy was pushing fifty.
“What you mean is Russ sweet-talked some gal he met at McCready’s last night into hitting the sheets with him but come this morning he couldn’t get her ass out the door fast enough and had to call in late.”
Keegan laughed. “That pretty much sums it up.”
“Mark my word, one day that guy’s gonna mess with the wrong woman.”
“Did you really threaten Cord if he hurt me? We only just met Friday night under very unique circumstances.”
Pete gave her a withering stare. “Yeah. Right. You gonna stand there and tell me you guys aren’t moving faster than a runaway freight train. It’s all over town. And yeah, I thought it was the proper thing to do and all by telling him straight out, like it is. Your granddad would’ve wanted it that way. Know what else? He’d have been proud of me, too.”
Pete rubbed the stubble on his chin just thinking about yesterday at the church. “The boy went white as a stick a chalk when I mentioned I’d string him up by his balls.”
“Ouch! I’d be sorely disappointed if he didn’t. Threaten harm to the balls and we’re talking a serious reaction from a male every time.”
“Now the male knows what happens if he gets stupid. It’s only fair.”
She leaned over and gave Pete a peck on the cheek. “But you’re his sponsor. You’re supposed to be supportive and make sure he stays on the straight and narrow.”
“That’s right. And I’ll do everything possible to make sure that happens. But when it comes to you, you’re my first priority.”
“Aww, Pete.” She patted the bald spot on his head. “I love you, too.”
Cord had his own Monday morning problems at the farm. One of the workers cut his hand on a fence rail and had to be transported to Doc Prescott’s for stitches. The wrapping machine malfunctioned in the packing house and shut down production for two hours before Marty had it fixed.
Cord started to worry about getting to Santa Cruz on time and being late for his appointment. But after handing out the payroll checks, he borrowed one of the farm trucks and headed to his fifty-minute session with Dr. Tony Pontadera with time to spare.
It turned out Tony wasn’t male at all, but rather a curvaceous, raven-haired, forty-six-year-old single mother who spelled Toni with an i.
Toni Pontadera was in the process of raising two sully teens. Both boys seemed determined to test, not only every inch of a mother’s patience, but her vast knowledge of the mental health profession as well. Her kids had always been her priority. But sometimes her thriving private practice had to take top billing.
Such was the case this morning when neither boy wanted to get up and go to class. She’d had to get tough. She’d reminded them both she had a new patient onboard, which meant she could not be late. Her sons giving her grief today was not an option. The life of a career-minded, single mom was rarely a walk in the park.
In her twenty years in the business of therapy though, Toni Pontadera had seen her fair share of PTSD victims. It was her specialty. She’d been treating victims suffering with the disorder as old as seventy who had dealt with the horrors they had experienced in Vietnam to victims as young as fifteen, a girl who’d been snatched off the street not five miles from her office door.
Anyone exposed to psychological trauma might experience flashbacks, depression, anxiety, anger, fear, or have problems with various addictions including alcohol, drugs, or sex. All exhibited an inability to cope with what had caused them pain in the first place.
With a certain professional curiosity she used to size up all of her new cases, she eyed Cord Bennett over the folder and the data sheet he’d filled out.
Despite the man’s David Beckham facial features, she detected an intense set to his jaw, not to mention the “I want to be anywhere else look.”
As she always did, she perused the info Cord had provided and then asked the usual background questions.
The yes or no answers she got were fairly typical from a reluctant man who did not want to be sitting in front of her answering what he considered dumb questions about a very sticky problem.
But when she looked into his eyes, she saw real uneasiness.
And because she was a no-nonsense type woman, the eyes got her attention. “You survived a spree shooting where you lost the woman you loved just eighteen months earlier, is that correct, Mr. Bennett?”
“Yeah.”
She noted his leg bouncing up and down nervously and stated, “You’re very anxious today, aren’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“I don’t really want to be here.”
A laugh snuck out in spite of the seriousness of the topic and the professional demeanor Toni so wanted to convey. “No kidding. But Mr. Bennett surely you understand that jumping in the ocean with the intent of drowning isn’t exactly normal behavior, is it? Not only that, but the same night you were arrested for public intoxication and in possession of a weapon. You understand that’s a huge red flag for law enforcement, for the people who care about you, those who are worried about you, right?”
“Yes.”
“Friday, the night you decided to act on your depressed state, you had been drinking heavily?”
This time he simply nodded.
She
sighed, getting patients to talk initially was always a challenge, some more than others. “Our sessions are only fifty minutes long, Mr. Bennett. Where would you like to start? Perhaps back at the beginning?”
Cord huffed out a ragged breath, rested his hands on his jiggling thighs and admitted, “I don’t know where to start. I’ve been messed up for so long, I’ve lost me, the way I used to feel, the way I used to approach doing things. I’m not me. It isn’t like me to give up on anything, but without Cassie, I’ve felt…lost.”
Toni nodded and softly prompted, “Tell me about that day.”
For the next thirty minutes, Toni listened as Cord went over every detail leading up to his wedding day. Even though he described the events that morning when it came to the actual time and place of the shooting…he faltered. He recalled how hung over he’d been from the rehearsal dinner the night before, how badly he’d felt out of sorts at the church.
And then he blurted out, “Maybe if I hadn’t had so much to drink the night before—I might’ve been able to react quicker, wrestle the gun away from the son of a bitch, stop him from firing so many rounds—something.”
“I see. Do you think that’s realistic? That you could have stopped the shooter? With your military training do you think that was logistically and tactically possible from where you were standing at the altar? How many steps were you from where Cassie stood with her father, Mr. Bennett? Was it feasible for you to run all the way to the back of the church to lunge for the gunman?”
At that moment, the timer dinged signaling their session was over.
“Okay, we’ll leave it right there for now. But you might consider your answer because we’ll pick up right here on Thursday. You do realize the court scheduled twice weekly visits, don’t you? We can always add to the ten sessions once we get a feel for how it’s going.”
“Yeah, twice a week for five weeks, I know.”
“Are you sleeping well, Mr. Bennett?”
“Sometimes, sometimes not.”
But when she reached for her prescription pad, Cord shook his head. “No pills. You realize I have a problem with alcohol? I’m battling two fronts here, doc. Depression and the need to drink so I don’t think about Cassie, about that day.”
“Ah, yes, it’s in the file. I could start you on sertraline, fifty milligrams.” When he simply stared at her, she clarified, “It’s generic for Zoloft—for the depression—and very affordable. Even though I see you have a very good insurance plan, I think sertraline is a good place to start. If it doesn’t work there are a dozen other drugs we can try.”
“I guess. Is it effective against depression?”
“Very. It does have some side effects though.”
“Like what?”
“Some patients report headaches, nervousness at first until the brain gets used to the drug.”
“You mean the chemical?”
“That’s right.” And because this patient was thirty-four years old, she thought he deserved to know. “And some have reported a drop in their libido.” She ripped off the paper from the pad and handed him the prescription.
Terrific, he thought as he took the piece of paper, stared at it. “That’s a lot of damned side effects, all of which sound a lot worse than what I’m dealing with now.”
“Depression is not something to ignore, Mr. Bennett. And had you not jumped into the ocean, had you not been carrying a weapon, I wouldn’t even think about prescribing you antidepressants. But since we can’t change either one of those events, I’ll see you on Thursday at one o’clock. Now scoot.”
The minute Cord got outside and walked to the truck he’d driven in from the farm, he almost collapsed next to it.
He’d survived the first appointment.
Talking about that day always brought pain and anger to the forefront at the senseless deaths he’d witnessed firsthand. Lives had been lost that day, not just Cassie’s, but her father, her maid of honor, one of her cousins, and two of their guests, all on Cassie’s side of the family, of course.
Cord had lost no family that day because he had none. Only Cassie. Cassie had been the only person he’d ever considered his family.
And look how that had turned out?
The tragedy should never have happened. If he’d acted sooner, done something about Robby before their wedding day…
He scrubbed a hand down his face.
Dr. Pontadera’s question hung in the back of his head as he slid behind the wheel. Could he have reached Robbie Mack in time that day to prevent all of it from happening?
He raked shaky fingers through his hair. Not likely, he thought now. Not likely at all. He might not be a brilliant man with a college education, but he was smart enough to know Robby Stevens had been standing too far away to have done anything at all, except stand there and watch as the son of a bitch shot seventeen people that day, killing six. He could see that now. Why hadn’t he been able to see that before today?
It seemed incredibly stupid to have put the blame on anyone other than Robby Mack. For months now he hadn’t been able to see that. It wasn’t like him not to be able to sort through a problem and deal with the solution. But for the past year and a half, he’d had difficulty with the outcome.
And now, he realized he’d had no control over the entire incident.
He had to admit talking to the shrink hadn’t been as bad as he’d imagined. He’d done his best to follow Keegan’s advice and think of it as a casual exchange of his story, stranger to stranger. Once he got going, for the most part, it had worked.
He turned the key in the ignition, deciding almost immediately he needed to call Keegan and tell her the deets on how the visit had gone. But if he called now what would he have to talk about later when she came to dinner?
That hadn’t been a problem Saturday night or for that matter last night. Their time spent together had been chock full of interesting conversation, a lot more than a “one night get to know you” session. In fact, he hadn’t wanted it to end.
And if he knew anything about women, Keegan had been reluctant for him to leave, too.
He wanted her in spite of all the reasons it was a bad idea. He had no business getting involved with anyone right now.
And what about taking the antidepressants? Did he really want to travel down that road? Did he even need the meds? He certainly didn’t want to start taking anything that slammed his libido, not when he wanted to take Keegan to bed.
As he pulled out of the parking lot, he decided he’d try the damn pills mainly because he wanted to get better. He didn’t want to be depressed anymore. He wanted to do everything he could to feel normal again.
So he’d take the damn Zoloft and see what happened on that score because he wanted to beat this thing.
As he headed back to Pelican Pointe, he thought of spending another evening with Keegan. And he couldn’t hold back the wide curve of his grin.
He hit the gas in anticipation.
Just as labor was unpredictable for most expectant mothers, so it went with pregnant sea otters. Around one-thirty that afternoon, surrounded by a group of first graders peering into the tide pool from the upper deck, Minnie darted back and forth in the water acting more energetic than usual.
Noting the change in behavior, Keegan alerted the crew via walkie-talkie and her entire staff gathered to watch Minnie as she darted around the water several times preparing to give birth.
Sure enough, a quick twenty minutes later, the baby popped out to plenty of oohs and aahs from the kids. They watched in fascination as Minnie nestled the little guy on her belly and immediately began to lick and clean her newborn pup.
The children were all full of questions and curiosity.
“Is it a boy or a girl baby?” asked a little brown-haired moppet, clearly awed by the experience.
“My mom had a baby last Christmas and she weighed, um, eight pounds. How much does this baby weigh?”
“Right now, about two pounds, but before long she or he, will grow
big and strong.”
Another little girl wanted to know, “Will they get to go back to the ocean?”
“That’s the goal, to release them back into the water. Before that though, we’ll tag them with microchips so we can keep track of them.”
“Will it hurt?” asked a little boy.
“Only for a second. Do you have a dog?” His head bobbed up and down in reply.
“Does he have a microchip so that when he gets lost you’ll be able to find him?”
He rubbed his nose in an upward swipe with his hand and said, “Yep, my mom says we gotta make sure if Sebastian gets lost we can find him again.”
“Exactly. It’s like that with otters.”
They were all clearly disappointed when the teachers, with help from a couple of volunteer moms, started trying to round up the kids and get them back on the bus.
“I’m always glad when that’s over,” Russell snarled as he watched them tromp through the tunnel and away from the tide pool back to the bus.
“Why?” Keegan asked.
“Because you never know what the little rug rats will do from one minute to the next.”
“Not kid-friendly, huh Russ?” Keegan asked because she knew Russ. The man might’ve been rough around the edges, but he had a solid heart inside when it came to the animals. Russ couldn’t stand to see one suffer.
“Friendly enough. One or two is fine but I don’t like it when there’s a passel to keep up with, like today. You miss one, and who knows where it might be heading for trouble.”
“These were pretty well-behaved. We gave them quite a show today, one they won’t forget.”
Russ eyed his boss. “Here tell about town you’ve got yourself a boyfriend. That nutcase that runs Taggert Farms sent you flowers.”
Keegan put her hands on her hips and pointed to Russ’s chest. “You, do not repeat gossip around me. And from here on out, you do not get to call Cord Bennett a nutcase!”
Pelican Pointe Boxed Set Books 1 - 3 (A Pelican Pointe Novel) Page 72