by Jenna Gunn
“I - don’t have anyone ‘on the hook’,” I mutter, disgruntled.
“It’s very like you to juggle two guys.” Raina jams her fists under her chin as she grins at me.
“No it’s not,” I argue. “And I’m not!”
“So, one guy is calling you nonstop…” She points to my phone, which is once again buzzing as Nathan calls. “And earlier today you slept with a different guy.”
I feel my face coloring. “When you say it like that…I sound like a slut… which I am not, it’s a bit complicated”
Raina mumbles something about eating ice-cream. “We should go to bed,” I say to her.
“So forward,” she giggles.
I laugh and stand up, “Come on; you need some sleep. When’s Alex gonna be home?”
“This weekend.” She yawns as I walk back to her. “I miss him. He usually makes me breakfast in the morning.”
Something stirs within my chest. What a life that could be. Waking up every morning, heading to the kitchen, and he’s already there, my coffee made and breakfast sizzling on the stove.
Raina snatches a glass of water out of my hand; I jump, startled out of my daydream before I can put a face to the figure I’ve imagined in the kitchen.
“What’s it like? Living with a guy? Getting married?”
She pauses for a moment. “It’s great,” she admits.
“Don’t you guys fight?”
“Sure.” She shrugs; I pull her into her own bedroom where she collapses onto her bed fully clothed. “You gotta get used to each other. But you know - you know that it’s, like, temporary. The fighting. And it’s not really fighting. It’s more like discussing.”
I sit on the edge of her bed. I remember when Raina first met Alex. I encouraged her to stop being stupid and get together with him. Am I the stupid one now? Probably, I answer myself.
“I’m really glad I met him,” she says sleepily. “Glad you talked sense into me.” She looks back at me with a smile. “Thanks for that.”
“Always here to tell you when you’re stupid,” I say playfully, shaking her shoulder.
Raina laughs. “Everybody needs somebody to tell them when they’re stupid.” She laboriously tugs the blankets up over her. “Trish?”
“Yeah?” I ask.
“Are you being stupid?”
For a moment, I don’t answer. One of her cats wanders into the room - Monroe, the three-legged one - and jumps up onto the bed to snuggle down behind Raina’s legs. I turn my gaze to the window. The curtains are cracked; I can see into the neighbor’s yard. The Logans’ yard. They’re no longer sitting on the porch, and the house looks dark. Looks like Perry’s parents are asleep.
I wonder if he’s called them. He seems like a loner; I wonder if that means he’s also lonely. The two don’t always go hand-in-hand, after all.
And Nathan. Sweet, troubled Nathan. He seemed fine at first, but he’s gotten...possessive. We’ve only been on one date, and I’ve already had to fight with him twice. By contrast, I slept with Perry, and he left me alone afterward.
Well, I probably deserved that, to be fair. I wasn’t exactly contacting him afterward, either. So now that we’ve had sex the second time...do I contact him? What do we do now?
“Yeah,” I say out loud, finally answering Raina. “I think I am.”
She doesn’t answer. I turn to look at her. Her eyes are closed, and her chest rises and falls with deep, even breaths. I smile and stand up and wander my way down the hallway and into the guest room.
How long will I keep being stupid? I’m not sure.
Carmen, the calico cat, jumps onto my bed with a little chirp as I enter the room. “Gonna snuggle with me?” I ask her; she stretches and stares at me with her different-colored eyes, one blue, one brown.
I get into my pajamas and crawl into the bed. Carmen paces around as I get settled, then walks straight up to my face and curls into a ball between my neck and shoulder.
“Is that really what we’re gonna do?” I mumble at her. She puts her front paws on my shoulder and begins to knead. “Guess so,” I answer myself with a sigh.
Thankful that my nightshirt is thick enough to stop Carmen’s claws from getting to my skin, I drift off to sleep.
17
It’s daylight outside when I open my eyes. Carmen meows angrily at me as I sit up and dislodge her from my shoulder; she leaps off the bed and stalks out of the room with her tail held high behind her.
I don’t hear Raina moving around. I slide out of the bed and dress quickly. I need to head to work, which will be a half-hour drive, but I want to make sure she’s okay before I go.
Raina’s room is dark. She’s sprawled out on the bed with her mouth hanging open; sometime during the night she kicked off most of her clothes, and they lay in a jumbled pile on the floor. Monroe stands up and stretches, his back arching like a rainbow.
“Raina?” I say.
She snorts and stirs before turning over, away from me. Monroe yowls; Raina sits straight up.
“What?” she grunts, pushing curly hair out of her face.
“Morning, sleepyhead.”
“Ugh.” She presses the heel of her hand to her forehead. “My sleepy head hurts.”
I laugh at her. “I’ll make you some bacon or something. Sound good?”
“Yeah.” She stretches. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
My phone sits on the kitchen counter where I left it last night. I check the time - it’s early. I have plenty of time to hang out before I head to work.
I set about making some breakfast as Raina emerges from her cocoon. By the time she’s actually in the living room, I’ve got some bacon and eggs sizzling on the stove, bread in the toaster, and coffee brewing.
“Your phone’s dying,” she yawns, looking at it.
“You got a charger I could use?”
“Yeah.” She wanders into the living room and plugs my phone into a cord. “There ya go.”
“Thanks. Coffee’s almost ready.”
“Oh, good.” She shuffles into the kitchen; she’s got a long blanket wrapped around her shoulders. It pools at her feet when she pauses to pour herself some coffee. “You’re not scrambling the eggs?”
“I’m making sandwiches.”
“Sounds amazing,” she sighs. With one hand clasping the blanket together, she reaches out with a little T-rex-like arm to grab her coffee mug and bring it to her lips. “I’ll be in the living room.”
“Sounds amazing,” I say sarcastically. She pretends to kick me.
I hear Raina turn on the TV and decrease the volume to a low mumble; I make some egg sandwiches and head into the living room to join her.
“So last night you told me you’ve been sleeping with Ms. Lynn’s son,” Raina says as I set her plate down.
“Wow. Good morning, how are you feeling?” I say, rolling my eyes. “I’m great, Raina, thanks for asking. Now that we’ve exchanged pleasantries, maybe I can bring up your sex habits.”
She laughs and takes a huge bite of the sandwich I made. I plop down beside her on the couch. “But really,” she mumbles through a full mouth, “what are you gonna do about the two guys?”
I shrug. “I don’t know what you mean. I’m not dating either.”
“Like, are you gonna pick one of them?”
“One of them doesn't count, he got eliminated for bad behavior. And the other...I don’t know what to do about him.” I take a bite of my sandwich and do my best to avoid Raina’s judgmental gaze. “Wow, this show sure looks interesting,” I say, turning obviously toward the TV.
“You’re being stupid,” Raina says quietly; but she picks up the remote and turns the volume up.
I know I’m being stupid. I just don’t know what to do. What am I supposed to do? I’ve slept with Perry twice now. Do I like him? He’s different than I thought he was; he’s caring, considerate. He’s not forgetful or negligent, either - he’s just got a smart dog who can open doors. And the poor guy’s got PTSD, which c
an’t be easy.
Nathan...he’s just scary, if I’m honest with myself.
“Nathan’s calling you again.” Raina points to my phone, which is buzzing so hard it almost falls off its perch on the arm of the couch.
With a sigh, I swallow the last bite of my egg sandwich and grab the phone. “Hello?” I ask, my mouth still a little full.
“What the hell, Trisha?” explodes Nathan on the other end.
“What?” I ask.
“I must have called you a million times!” he yells. “Where have you been?”
“I told you I had to go to Charleston,” I reply, sitting back on the couch. Raina turns to look at me with a concerned frown.
“I didn’t know you’d be so indisposed you couldn’t text!”
I shrug even though he can’t see it. “I was hanging with my bestie.”
“Sure you were,” he snaps. “You were with that Perry guy with one leg, weren’t you?”
I feel a bit of guilt churn in my stomach. But why? Nathan’s not my boyfriend. “I was in Charleston,” I say, avoiding the Perry thing altogether. “Trying on bridesmaid dresses.” Why I even bother telling him I am don’t know. It’s none of his business.
“No pictures, though, huh?” he snarls.
“Look, sorry you couldn’t get up with me,” I sigh, kicking my feet onto the coffee table. “I’m not even home right now. I’m with my best friend. Raina, say hi.”
“Hi,” she says uncertainly but loudly enough that it carries through the phone speaker.
Nathan’s quiet on the other end. I can tell hearing another woman’s voice has calmed him down.
“Also, you need to chill,” I tell him. “I’ll be home later today. But this won’t fly, Nathan. You have no right to badger me about where I am. We’ve been on one date. One.”
“But I thought - ”
“One,” I interrupt him. “I gotta go. I’m hanging out with Raina before I go to work.”
“Okay.” He sounds calmer. “See you later?”
“Sure. Bye.” I hang up and set my phone aside. “Want me to get your plate?” I ask Raina.
She doesn’t answer. She’s staring at me with her wide, dreamy eyes. “Trisha,” she says carefully. “Does he...do that all the time?”
“It’s no big deal. I’m not seeing him again.”
“That’s not cool,” she says quietly as I take her empty plate and head toward the kitchen. I hear her stand up and follow me with her blanket-cape trailing behind. “He’s acting like he owns you. You’ve only been on one date with this guy, and that’s how he’s acting?”
“He’s harmless.” I open the dishwasher. “He’s just a blowhard.”
“He doesn’t sound harmless,” Trisha says. “How many texts did he send you last night?”
“Uh…” I pick up my phone and check my texts. I have over a hundred. “A lot,” I mumble. I open my messages and scroll through - they start out fine, with lots of smiley faces and sentiments like miss you! and sorry about this morning! But as I go longer without answering, the texts shift in tone. It becomes where are you? and if you don’t answer me Trisha I swear to God.
I cringe and check my missed calls. Over fifty, all from Nathan. I have ten voice mails; I don’t know if I want to listen to them.
“I gotta head to work,” I tell Raina, shoving my phone out of sight before she gets a chance to see all the messages. “Call me later, okay?”
“Okay.” She’s still frowning.
I laugh and give her a one-armed hug, grabbing my purse with my free hand. “I’ll be okay.”
18
The office is empty when I arrive. I’m incredibly early.
I walk in through the barn like usual. When I enter the office, I start turning on lights. The few kenneled animals we have start making sleepy noises.
I like being in the office early in the morning all alone. It’s peaceful. No patients coming in, no answering questions. Even the animals in the kennel are quieter. I walk through and check on them, making sure they have food and water, giving them some pets and scratches.
I head out into reception and start up the computer. It’s old and takes forever; I figure it’d be nice for Hannah to come in to a computer that’s already on.
As I hover over it, watching the monitor as things slowly load, I hear a thunk-thunk-thunk on the lobby door.
An angry sigh bursts from my lips. We don’t open for a couple hours. There’s a sign. We’ve had the same hours since I opened this place. Don’t people learn?
I glance up - and see Perry. He’s holding Apple’s leash in one hand - she looks perfectly fine - but cradling a small box of something in his other. And he looks distraught.
I walk over to the doors and unlock them. “You okay?” I ask.
“I need help,” he replies seriously.
“Come on in.” I step back; he hurries through the door, and I pull it shut behind him. “What’s going on? Is Apple okay?”
Hearing her name, Apple wags her tail jovially and trots over to me. I scratch her ears.
“She’s fine,” Perry says. He holds out his other hand. “I think Henrietta is sick or something.”
I look down. His hands are trembling, and in them is a cardboard box with a battery-powered flashlight and a little pool of yellow-brown feathers; as I look, a head appears, and its tiny beak lets out a feeble little cheep.
As a vet, I see cute animals all the time. But it never ceases to make me melt into a little puddle of incoherent goo.
“Oh my God,” I gush, reaching out and collecting the tiny bundle from his hands. “Come on back. Henrietta, you said? Hello, Henrietta, you sweet little fluff.”
“She’s been lethargic,” Perry says, following behind me. Apple brings up the rear. “More so than the other chicks. And she always seems to be covered in poop, and - ”
“Oh!” I set her down on the table in the exam room. “Then I bet it’s pasty butt.”
“Pasty butt?” Perry asks incredulously.
I scoop Henrietta out of her box and look at her little butt; sure enough, she’s got poop clustered around her vent. “Pasty butt,” I say with a nod. “It just means she’s got some poop on her butt.”
Perry watches me with an open mouth as I head over to the sink and turn it on.
“It’s easy to fix - you just have to wash it out.” I hold Henrietta gently but securely and start to rinse her little butt, letting water from the faucet pool in my hand before rubbing it onto her; she begins cheeping in earnest, protesting the lukewarm water.
“You’re hurting her!” Perry gasps, scurrying toward me.
“No, she’s just uncomfortable,” I assure him. “I know what I’m doing, dude.”
He’s still stiff, but he takes a step back. “Okay.” He keeps his worried eyes on Henrietta.
“This is all you have to do,” I tell him. “If another one of your chicks gets pasty butt, just wash off the feces. You gotta be careful to keep the water to just her butt, or she’ll get cold. This takes a while,” I add, still gently washing poop off the chick’s butt while she cheeps out her protests. “You may wanna do it over a bowl.”
“Oh.” He steps closer to watch what I’m doing. His chest almost brushes against my arm; I’m tempted to lean into him, to rest my head on his shoulder. I resist.
Don’t start getting mushy because you’ve had sex, I tell myself firmly.
I finish washing Henrietta down and then grab a paper towel and pat her as dry as I can. “It’s best to make her dry as possible. And you want her to be completely dry before she goes back to the brooder with the other chicks.”
“Why?” Perry asks, taking Henrietta from my hands, still cheeping.
“Chicks are curious. If she looks even a little bit different from them, they’ll peck her.” I wash my hands as Perry sets Henrietta back into her box next to her warm flashlight. “Have you been feeding them properly?”
“I got some chick starter,” he says, worriedly peeking into
the box.
“That’s a good start. Keep checking the temperature in the brooder, make sure it’s right. And get them some grit.”
“Grit?” he asks.
“Helps with their digestion. Watch out for more pasty butt - this may not be the last time it happens.”
“Okay.” He frowns into the little box. I watch him as I dry my hands with some paper towels.
He’s so...worried. About a tiny little chick. The poor man is doing his best. I walk up behind him and pat his shoulder. “It’s okay,” I tell him. “Pasty butt is pretty common in chicks. Sometimes it’s just stress from moving to a new place.”
Perry nods, but I can still see the concern etched into his face. If he cares this much about baby chicks...how much did he care about his soldiers while he was commanding them? A lot, obviously. Perry’s heart seems bigger than I thought anyone’s could ever be.
It doesn’t hurt that he’s handsome. He still hasn’t cut his hair, and it curls at his neck and over his ears. The length suits him, though; he’s got an angular face and a sharp jaw.
“Henrietta’s gonna be fine, Perry,” I tell him softly.
He nods again.
“That was a good idea with the flashlight,” I offer, trying to change the subject. “It looks like it’s working.”
He smiles a little. “I was scared it wouldn’t work, but it gives off some heat.” A look of realization dawns onto his face; he whips toward me. “What do I owe you?”
“What?”
“Money,” he reiterates. “How much do I owe you?”
“None,” I laugh. “I just rinsed a chicken butt. And you’re…” I trail off. What do I say? A friend? My boyfriend? A good patient? So worried-looking that charging you would be some sort of extortion?
I’m saved by the sound of the lobby door opening; I hear the telltale tinkle of the bell above the door.
“Crap,” I sigh. “I forgot to lock the door.” I tug on the hem of my scrubs. “I’ll go tell them we’re closed.”
I turn and head out of the exam room without waiting for a reply, my heart going double-time in my chest. Eventually, I’m going to have to sit myself down and have a long talk about what the hell is going on in my own head.