by Barbara Ebel
“Hey, guys,” Annabel said over the black fence at Pete’s Café where she tethered Oliver. Bob came around, squatted in front of the dog, and massaged his neck.
“He’s a beauty,” Stuart said. “What kind of dog is he?” He put his hand through the fence and Oliver sniffed and continued wagging his tail.
“We did his DNA to find out,” Bob answered, “because we adopted him from the shelter and we wanted to understand him better.”
“Bob was the first to examine the results,” Annabel said. “He’s fifty percent Australian Shepherd and his other half, inherited from his mom or dad, is a conglomerate of breeds, so much so that they couldn’t even make a guess.”
“Yes,” Bob said, “his gene pool mix made him a stunner. And his results confirmed to us something Annabel and I both noticed. That he likes to push against you, especially while you’re walking. He possesses a herding instinct like an Aussie.”
“I worked with him a little bit,” Annabel chuckled, “to prevent him from bumping into me as much.”
Oliver made himself comfortable on the cement and Annabel and Bob walked around to the wrought-iron table.
“How old is he?” Stuart asked.
“We took him in during our OB/GYN rotation at about nine-months old. He’s around a year old now. Ha! He’s pretty much finished growing into the size of his paws. He’s a big dog, yet he’s lean and wiry, so his weight and strength is not an issue.”
“His admixture of coat colors is remarkable.” Oliver glanced back intermittently at Annabel and Bob. Picking up his iced tea, Stuart held it in mid-air. In a low voice, he added, “Now that’s an adoption story that’s working out for everybody.” He stared at Annabel and she frowned. She wished the same would have happened for him.
-----
Stuart downed a barbecue sandwich much quicker than Annabel and Bob and stood up after paying his bill. “I’m off to start some serious studying tonight. See you in the morning, Annabel, and good luck on the wards tomorrow, Bob.” He gave Oliver a pat on the head and another one on his back. The dog’s fur was extra soft.
“Thanks for the classy ride home,” Annabel called after him.
Stuart gave her a wave and headed towards his car.
Annabel dunked a French fry into ketchup. “Stuart made a comment about Oliver’s adoption. I hope he doesn’t mind me repeating it, but are you aware that he was adopted?”
“No. He’s not exactly liberal in sharing his personal information with us.”
“My thoughts exactly. Maybe we are partly to blame. Some of us hung out together the last few years; maybe we should have been more forthcoming with him to join our conversations, study groups, and socials.
“He’s on our rotation again and I sure have nothing against him. In the end, it’s his choice whether to spend more time with us or not.”
“Well, I’m glad he offered me a ride home. That and the fact that he was a good listener today when I got down about my sister’s death.”
“Melissa?”
Annabel nodded.
“Next time you’re in Nashville, set a bouquet of flowers on her grave. That may provide some solace.”
“I like that. I will. A mixture of flowers and colors, the way she liked them. Now what about Oliver? When would you like your turn with him?”
“Can’t take him tomorrow because it will be my team’s first night on call.”
“So then I can drop him at your place the day after when you’re post-call and before you get home. I’ll let him in with my key on my way to the pediatric practice.”
Bob grinned at Oliver. “He’d like that, but I’ll enjoy his visit even more.”
Annabel polished off the rest of her barbecue sandwich and listened while Bob discussed the pediatric patients he acquired on the service. She listened intently; his inpatients were a lot more ill than the outpatient children she was seeing in Dr. Gillespie’s office.
“By the way,” she added when he finished. “As opposed to your hospital rotation, when we flip-flop in two weeks and you’re in Dr. Gillespie’s office, you will appreciate the absence of med student scut work. The office works well without us, and Stuart and I aren’t doing busy work. We’re there solely to watch and learn. And so far, Stuart’s attending is a bit more open-ended about teaching us.”
“I’ll look forward to that.” Bob fixated on her one more time with his rich blue eyes and pushed away from the table. At six foot, he stood tall. He searched his wallet for a bill and went inside.
Annabel put some money on the table and untied Oliver.
“Put this back,” Bob said when he came back out. He handed Annabel her money. “I paid Pete inside. You can grab the bill next time.”
She shook her head. “There’d better be a next time soon.”
“Let’s stop at my car. I bought something for Oliver because of the thunderstorm phobia he has.”
“The night he and I were in my apartment at the end of OB/GYN was the worst. He shuddered with fear from all the lightning and thunder, and he wanted to hide in the recesses of a cave, which obviously wasn’t available.”
Bob waved her to his car and took a package out from the front seat.
“A thunder shirt?” she asked.
Bob wore a cheerful expression and pushed back his tapered blonde hair from the front of his head. “It is also called a calming coat or an anxiety wrap. This medium one should fit Oliver. The theory is that the shirt applies constant gentle pressure against a dog’s torso, similar to us swaddling an infant, and makes him or her feel more secure. So we can put it on him, hopefully before a storm gets too bad.”
“Thanks for buying this and learning about it. I bet Oliver will appreciate it too.”
“We’ll keep it with his things that go back and forth.”
“Ha, like divorced kids going from one parent to the next.”
“Yeah, like that.”
“I didn’t tell you, but Stuart was in a children’s home before he was adopted.”
“That must have been rough. I bet he’s going to make a super psychiatrist because he’ll be empathetic to what people go through.”
Annabel nodded. “Time to study. Oliver will give you a kiss and away we go.”
“There’s nothing holding us back from studying together now for an hour or two.”
“Except the fact that I’m going to get clad in skimpy pajamas and curl on my bed.”
“Like I said, there’s …”
“Bob Palmer!” She smiled, stuck the thunder shirt under her arm, and tugged at Oliver’s leash.
CHAPTER 5
Dustin Lowe took his police officer duties seriously. In his late twenties, he liked all aspects of his job except being confined to a desk at the station for hours on end. Luckily, that rarely happened. He followed legalities down to the letter of the law and treated people with respect and without bias as much as he could. Not all policemen were like him, but he had learned already that he possessed no jurisdiction over his colleagues’ actions. Luckily, Sean, the officer that was his partner, had grown to be a close friend and confidant.
Dustin worked the day shift on Monday and now used the fading sunlight to help him put a second, overdue coat of paint on the side of his house facing his car port. The dark navy paint he stroked on the siding matched the color of his blue jeans, so he didn’t mind the spots he’d splashed on his legs. They would eventually blend in or be washed out, he thought as he stood straight and examined the last panel on the bottom.
He always preferred to do the work himself and stood back to admire the color and the job he’d done. Something about painting relaxed him and, in the end, he had something to show for it and a feeling of accomplishment. But more than that, he could think deeply about issues going on in his life while the paintbrush stroked new color across a drab surface.
Placing the moist brush on the tray, he started packing up. His mother was staying with him after showing up the day before for a surprise visit, so the timi
ng of his completed project was perfect. Plus, he needed to get his girlfriend, Annabel Tilson, out of his head for a little while. Well, just a little bit, because she could flood his thoughts despite what he didn’t like about her. What he didn’t like was in her past, but not being a hundred percent certain of that and questioning himself whether he could live with her previous “loose” behavior with men gave his thoughts much turmoil. After all, he had almost proposed to her and then backed out without her suspecting his intentions.
He washed the paintbrush under the outside faucet and put away all the supplies in his laundry room when he entered the back door. His receding thick black hair sprang from his scalp in coiled ringlets … more than usual because of the humidity.
Inside, his mother, Vicky, sat at the kitchen table. Dustin couldn’t blame her for coming. Although she only lived forty miles away, he didn’t see her as much as he should. His father had died; she had downsized to an apartment, and at fifty-eight years old, she still worked as a bank cashier.
Vicky had a slight stooped posture, which Dustin wondered about since it had materialized in the last few months since their last visit. She wore big brown-rimmed glasses, which sat on the bumpy bridge of her nose, and shot her son a warm smile when he stepped in.
“Sorry, Mom,” Dustin said. “Nothing like you visiting to find me gone at the station or working on the house. But I’m glad that project is finished.”
“I know how it goes. You have a small house and a small lot, but there is still upkeep to owning a home. I’m happy to use a few days off to visit you in Cincinnati but still hope I’m not an imposition.”
“My goodness, Mom, don’t even think that.” Dustin rubbed his jaw, which included resting his finger in the dimple on his chin. “Is Solar behaving with you?”
His yellow-naped Amazon parrot was on the counter in the kitchen, the room modern yet compact. Dustin wondered what the bird was doing; his beak bobbed inside a mug.
Solar clicked his tongue in approval of whatever he was drinking. “Mmm,” he said.
“What the…?” Dustin strolled over.
“My cold coffee is sitting over there,” Vicki said. “Solar’s taken a liking to it.”
Dustin took a peek inside the mug. Sure enough … black French roast. He rolled his eyes. “Don’t go bouncing off the walls with that caffeine.”
“If it’s any consolation,” Vicki said, “I made caffeine-free.”
Dustin shook his head and came back to the table with crackers and cheese and set them down. He snapped open a beer can and took a scant sip.
“I’m taking you out to dinner tomorrow night, Mom. To the nicest place around here.”
“Are you going to invite the young lady you’re dating? I’d like to meet her.”
“I may have mentioned she’s a medical student. She started a new rotation this week, so breaking away from studying may be difficult. I’ll ask her, however.”
Vicki topped a cracker with a dollop of Brie cheese. She chewed for a while and then rubbed her hand on her forehead.
“I wasn’t snooping. I would never do such a thing. Since I’m in your spare bedroom, I put a few clothing articles in the top dresser. There’s a velvet case in there with an engagement ring.”
The words hung flat in the air. It would be all right if Dustin offered an explanation, but if not, Vicki was fine if he kept his love life to himself; at least for the time being.
“Annabel stays here sometimes. I put the ring in the spare bedroom to make sure I didn’t accidentally leave it in my room where she’d see it. I was ready to ask her to marry me, but then I had second thoughts. There is no reason to rush a lifetime commitment. I’m waiting, that’s all.”
Vicki scrunched up her forehead. “Waiting for what?”
“I don’t know.”
Vicki nodded and thought it best to change the subject. “Solar’s become bored with the drink. It’s about time.”
“What’s your problem?” the bird asked.
“Sorry, Mom. He says that a lot.”
“So I found out. He practiced on me while you were outside painting.”
-----
Annabel opened the bathroom door, a towel wrapped around her after showering. Oliver gazed up from the floor, his eyes never leaving her. He clung close by as she rummaged through the drawer looking for lightweight pajamas.
She grabbed a pediatric paperback and settled on the bed while Oliver sat, intent on gathering her attention. He popped up and wagged his tail, reluctant to sit again.
“Don’t tell me you want to go out again?”
Excited, the dog went in the kitchen and wagged his tail. He didn’t stand near the door. Annabel realized what was churning around in his clever mind as she followed him and stuck her hand into the biscuit box on the counter. “You’re training me, not the other way around. So give me your paw.”
Oliver obliged and lowered himself to the floor with the biscuit dangling from his mouth.
She went back to her bed with a pediatric paperback. Although she saw a case or two during her surgery rotation, she figured appendicitis would show up during her new rotation – either clinically or on a test. It was time to review the clinician’s approach to the problem, diagnosis, and definitive treatment.
After an hour, with an adequate review behind her, she thought it best to call it a night. Her iPhone rang as she was about to close the chapter.
“Hey, Dustin,” she said.
“I’m taking a chance calling this late. You’re not in bed yet, are you?”
She laughed. “Dustin Lowe, you’re cutting it close. I suppose it’s my fault. I should have called you, and earlier, especially since you’re dying to know how my first day went on pediatrics.”
“Not really,” he joked. “Nevertheless, what’s your initial opinion of looking in children’s ears and throats all day?”
“Ha! Is that what lay people, or officers of the law, think about that specialty? Rather narrow-minded, isn’t it?”
“Eww. Feisty tonight, are we?”
“Try me. Do you know how nonspecific the first symptoms are of a budding case of appendicitis? An appendix, that GI appendage that can rupture in a kid’s abdomen and put them in the hospital with a myriad of problems. It takes an astute physician to recognize appendicitis early on, not one just thinking about a bellyache after a corn dog at the county fair.”
“Double feisty, but remind me not to eat a corn dog when I take you to the yearly fair.”
“Is that a date?”
“Sure is. A girl from Tennessee must know about state and county fairs.”
“Sure do. Especially the memories with my family: my grandparents, my mom and dad, and sisters.” Her tone changed and she became quiet.
“Some of those memories weren’t pleasant?”
“They were all wonderful. Today I’m missing my older sister, that’s all.”
“I bet you were close.”
“Very true. These days, I would be sharing girl talk with her about the guy I’m dating.”
“You can tell me.”
“No chance. Anyway, how was your day?”
“Fine, and I have a surprise, an overdue guest visiting me since yesterday … my mom.”
“Aren’t you lucky. She’s staying with you?”
“Yup. For a few days. How about dinner tomorrow night and you can meet her?”
“I would love to make her acquaintance. Will you be understanding that I can’t kill my whole night, however?”
“Absolutely. How about we pick you up at 7 p.m.?”
“That’ll be tight. I can do it without getting totally dolled up.”
“You always look dolled up without dolling up, so be yourself. We’ll pop over to the Cajun place and I’ll ask the waiter not to dilly dally.”
“See you then.”
Annabel hung up and stared at Oliver. She left the paperback in the space between her crisscrossed legs and thought about their conversation. A woman meeting
the mother of the man she’s dating? This was a big deal. This was a step up in their relationship.
So far, Annabel was totally happy dating Dustin and she liked him a lot. Things had been perking along fine. He was a fine man, admirable, good-looking, pleasant, and fun to be with, and well, she could not really find any negatives about him. Of course, their fields were totally different, yet stressful and demanding. There was, however, only so much she could share with him that he understood or was interested in.
Another point, she thought, was that in her stage of training, getting super serious with any man would pose a problem. Or would it? Perhaps she should give their relationship more substantial thought. Maybe he was doing that, especially if tomorrow night she was meeting the special lady who had brought him into the world.
-----
Annabel slipped in the front door of the office and hustled to the back room of Gillespie’s practice.
Stuart stored his backpack and frowned at her. “You’re cutting our start time close too. How come when we’re given more time in the morning before beginning our day, we tend to come in later?”
“Makes no sense. In my defense, however, I didn’t have Oliver to walk during the other rotations. But you’re correct. Do you think we’ve become slackers?”
“More like lazy slouchers.”
Annabel also donned her jacket. “Darn, I dressed, walked the dog, and called for a ride. I never made coffee. My Keurig machine was a gift from Bob, so my first burst of coffee is more than a hot beverage. It’s a send-off to my day from our thoughtful colleague.”
“He didn’t give me one.” Stuart threw her a glance. “Come on, before we get in trouble, if that’s possible. There are patients’ medical folders in the hallway chart holders.”