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Dangerous Doctor

Page 12

by Barbara Ebel


  “But I often wonder what you will decide on too.”

  “I promise. You’ll be the first to know.”

  They reached Bob’s apartment and Annabel gritted her teeth. She needed to call Dustin.

  “Why go home?” Bob asked. “We’re both going to the fair, so why don’t we go together? Maybe Dustin and Linnell can meet us there. By then, we must brush Oliver and make him handsome; make him shine and stand out.”

  “I should go home, Bob, and shower and change my clothes. I better rush.”

  “Okay. But take his brush from my counter and pack it with other things we may need for him. You’ll do a better job with him when we get to the fair and I’ll keep my arrangement with Nell.”

  “Congrats again. Now you’re all set and don’t need to worry about still having to make a decision about a specialty.”

  Bob and Oliver went inside and Annabel peeled away to her car. She grabbed her iPhone right away and woke it up to find that last night Dustin had called and left text messages. From what she could make out, at first he seemed concerned about her whereabouts and why was she not getting back to him, but later, he seemed more miffed.

  She took a minute to think through the situation. After taking a big breath, she called Dustin.

  -----

  Dustin left the station and slid into bed by midnight, but it was all for naught. Sleep bordered between restless dreaming and fitful starts. At 2 a.m., he checked his iPhone to find no return message from Annabel. Why would she contact him? he scolded himself. She was most likely in a deep sleep after heavy sex with that medical student.

  At 3 a.m., he woke again after a frightening REM sleep jolted his limbs so jarringly, he opened his eyes with a start. He dreamed he was in a long-term marriage and worked every weekend while his wife led a double life and had a family across the river in Kentucky. With further complexity, the other husband passed away, and he took in the children and adopted them as his own. The dream seemed so real that he called himself a fool for putting up with his wife and taking care of her kids.

  At 6 a.m., he planted his feet on the bedroom floor and walked downstairs to the kitchen. Solar was in his cage and sluggishly bobbed his head. “What’s your problem?”

  “Lots,” Dustin said, “but I can’t trust you, Solar, with the information. You’re such a blabbermouth.” He opened the cage door and set fresh water inside and then worked on a pot of coffee.

  “I’m a stupid fool, Solar. Remaining single has been fine up until now, so why did I consider rocking the boat? I’ll tell you why. Because I’m crazy over Annabel Tilson. More than that, I’ve been in love with her.

  “I guess our fair date no longer exists. I wish I had the wherewithal to figure out what to do, buddy. That must be part of being in love. I can’t even make a logical decision; she clouds my brain cells despite doing me wrong.”

  Solar flew out of his cage and landed on the kitchen counter. He preened his wings for a minute while Dustin slipped a mug under the coffee dripping from the machine.

  “Alexa, what’s the temperature?” Solar asked.

  “Right now, it’s sixty-six degrees. Today, expect a high of seventy-eight degrees.”

  “Thanks, Solar and Alexa, but I don’t need a weather forecast. I want a crystal ball to tell me what to do.”

  Dustin savored two cups of coffee and threw two pieces of bread in the toaster. He finally made up his mind. He had not attended a county fair in years; he was going to go no matter what his girlfriend and Bob Palmer were doing. Perhaps he could gawk at a ridiculously bizarre tractor pull, or a horse show with western saddles and cowboys. At the minimum, he’d be in the vicinity of a pet show, so if he wanted to watch it from the shadows, he could.

  He had time, so he finished the toast, ate a banana, and jumped into the shower. By eight thirty, he appeared presentable in blue jeans and a denim shirt and, to his surprise, his cell phone rang.

  “Dustin?”

  “For months and months,” he told Annabel, “I believed you owned a working cell phone.”

  “I can’t tell you how sorry I am; I was going to call you about today and I fell asleep. Out cold like I had not slept in a month. My phone was not with me, so I never heard or saw your calls or texts.”

  Her voice sounded true and honest and sincere. He wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, but he vowed not to be irrational. When he attended high school and before his dad died a few years later, his father used to say, “Son, don’t go through life letting people pull the wool over your eyes.” His dad would roll over in his grave if he knew Dustin needed to apply that to the girl he almost proposed to.

  Dustin sighed. He was dressed to go to the county fair. Maybe he could figure this out once and for all. It was a coward’s way to make a final judgment via a telephone call.

  “Do you still plan on going to the fair and enrolling Oliver in the show?”

  “Yes, but if you are angry at me and don’t want to come, I’ll understand. However, I’d love for you to be there.”

  “Do you want me to pick you up?” He almost blurted out, “Should I pick you up at Bob’s place?”

  “That would be nice. Ten thirty okay?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “I’ll be outside on the stoop.”

  -----

  Annabel peered up at her favorite squirrel as he rustled about in his nest and she waited for Dustin. Next to her, she had a portable water bowl and bottle for Oliver as well as her own things in a canvas bag. They sat in the direction of the sun, unobscured by clouds. With no breeze, the temperature still made it perfect for an outdoor county fair. She thought it was the kind of day that kids would build memories on as they strolled through the livestock and agricultural exhibits eating a corn dog or a funnel cake.

  Dustin’s black Acura crept down the street, so she jumped up, stepped out between two parked cars, and slid into the front passenger seat.

  “Good morning again,” she said. “How did your shift go last night?”

  He studied her face for any indication of shame or guilt before taking his car out of park. He did not see any; she even seemed decompressed from tiredness or stress. But then again, Annabel Tilson always looked good or great, even after her hectic nights on call. He didn’t know what to think about her appearance, but he knew what he knew concerning last night.

  “A busy Friday night, but it could have been worse. How about you? I notice Oliver isn’t with you, so you’re not the one bringing him to the fair?”

  Annabel slid her bag on the floor and shrugged. “Bob’s bringing him. Today is his day with him, but we agreed I should be the one to prance him around the ring. I’ve never been to a real dog show, so I don’t know what to expect.”

  “Don’t sweat it. There must be significant differences between a professional dog show and an amateur one.”

  “That makes sense. You made me feel better already. When the time comes, will you take some pictures with my cell phone?”

  “Be glad to.”

  “I don’t see Solar in your car. You didn’t bring him for the chance to amaze the judges and audience?”

  “I was going to, but became too distracted this morning to get my act together and bring him.”

  Annabel squinted her eyes. “That’s not like you. I apologize again for not getting back to you last night. I realized this morning how dreadfully tired I was, which is why I conked out so early.” There was no way she would tell him that she accidentally fell asleep at Bob’s.

  “Shit happens,” Dustin said, as if he was talking to Sean.

  They soon pulled onto the street alongside the fairgrounds, where some lots were already filled to capacity. A man wearing a yellow vest directed them to a gravel road with a grass parking area off to the side. Dustin shut the engine and both of them headed to an entrance booth.

  “What’s your hurry?” he called out.

  “You’re right,” she said and slowed down. “Registration began, but the show do
esn’t start until twelve.”

  They paid at the gate and asked for directions. As they strolled the aisles, the fast food vendors were hard at work and the smell of fried and grilled food filled the air.

  “We’ll have to indulge later,” she said. “I could go for one of those chicken kabobs and a big fat old ice cream cone or a tall bag of kettle corn.”

  “A burger and double dipping into kettle corn would suit me just fine.”

  Annabel pointed. “The amusement park is way over on the other side. Any chance we could swing by and catch one of those rides?”

  Dustin chuckled. “And lose what we eat? No thanks.”

  “That’s the first time this morning you’ve loosened up, Dustin Lowe. That’s worth more to me than jumping on that Ferris wheel ride in the skyline.”

  Dustin grinned as they came to the agricultural pavilion, a large, open-air building with aluminum benches and the ground covered with straw. Three people sat behind two folding tables and were taking the names of dogs and people in line. Annabel checked the short line and the people sitting with their dogs on the benches. Oliver, Bob, and Nell were not there yet, but Dustin tapped her elbow.

  “They’re coming this way,” he said.

  Bob walked Oliver and the dog tugged when he saw Annabel. “Sorry we’re late,” Bob said.

  “Blame our tardiness on me,” Nell said. “I wasn’t ready when Bob showed up and I gave him a short tour of my place.”

  Dustin promised himself to listen attentively. At least now he was sure that this other medical student was a friend and she played no role in last night. After introductions, Annabel stood next in line.

  “Who is your four-legged buddy and what’s the name of the handler?” a friendly woman asked. She wore a red straw hat and her pen dangled between two fingers, poised to write.

  “This is Oliver. I’m Annabel Tilson. There is a mixed breed group, isn’t there?”

  “Yes, sure is. It always has the most entries. Your Oliver looks like an Australian Shepherd, but not one hundred percent.”

  “You’re right,” Bob said. “We checked out his DNA.”

  “I enrolled both Annabel and Oliver. The competition will start soon.” The woman peered again at Oliver with a wide smile and the group walked to an open bench in front of the show ring.

  The color of the straw matched the primary colors of Oliver and, when he sat, the straw clung to his long hair and became one and the same with his coat. “Oh no,” Annabel said. “Oliver will be littered with this stuff when it’s his turn. Did you bring his brush?” She looked at Bob pleadingly.

  Bob leaned over and plucked straw off Oliver’s neck and glanced back at Annabel. “Yes. You left my place this morning without it.”

  Dustin’s heart felt like someone kicked it. There … he heard it … and if he had had any doubt, it was gone. Bob was not in the hospital last night. They were together at his place. And Annabel had not said a word, keeping the information hidden from him, incriminating her that much more. His eyes fell on the dog because he couldn’t look at either Annabel or Bob.

  CHAPTER 15

  The center filled up quickly as people signed in, and big and little, and furry, clipped, and short-haired dogs sat with their owners and family. A woman and her daughter sat next to them with a carriage. When she spread open the blanket, a bunny peered out and twitched his nose at Oliver, who wondered what kind of living thing it was.

  Nell sat on the other side of Bob. Wearing sandals, leggings, and a loose top, she patted Oliver and tried tugging on his collar to bring him to her face, but he stayed too interested in the wide-eyed rabbit.

  The red-hatted woman stepped in front of the tables. “We’re kicking off our pet show with dogs, class one, sporting breeds. Please come forward with your dogs. Everyone walk around the ring in a large circle, and then come to a stop. Line up in a straight line and face us.”

  Coming from the sides of the pavilion and the aisles, all the dogs and handlers pranced in a large-looped circle. Annabel, Bob, and Nell watched setters, pointers, retrievers, and a Weimaraner walk exuberantly beside their humans. Dustin was fond of dogs, but his heart wasn’t in it, for his heart was broken. If he didn’t keep it in check, he could get very angry about the situation, but he told himself to be professional about a personal issue and act like he was an objective observer of a “situation” at work. Like the “domestic abuse” case he managed last night.

  The man at the desk proved to be the official judge. He considered and calculated each dog’s physical attributes and charm and stepped forward when they sat down in a line. Without showing any favoritism, he finished and spoke with the friendly lady. She announced the winners in reverse order. The winner was a yellow Labrador retriever.

  “What grand dogs,” Nell said to Bob. “Aren’t you glad I found out about this event? I can’t think of a better way to spend the day away from medicine. We need to do things like this more often.” Bob wore shorts, so she tapped his bare knee and flashed a smile.

  “I’m curious about the herding breeds,” Bob said, leaning more towards Annabel. “We can compare Oliver to pure-bred Australian Shepherds.”

  “Exactly. They’re the fourth group.” Annabel patted her hands together like an excited little kid.

  The competition hosted the non-sporting and working breeds next and then the lady announced the herding group. Collies, regal German Shepherds, alert little Welsh Corgis, and Australian Shepherds came forward. “Those Aussies are handsome,” Bob whispered to Annabel, “but not as gorgeous as our Oliver.”

  Annabel poked him. “We’re a little bit prejudiced, don’t you think?”

  “Ha, you’re right.” Bob picked up the brush from between them. “I’ll start de-strawing him and we’ll touch up his coat again before they call his group.” Bob leaned forward and brushed and brushed. The straw clung to Oliver like he was born with it.

  In front of them, the judge had made his decision and they called the four winners again in reverse order. “And first place goes to Ripley, the Border Collie.” The black dog with white markings cocked his head at his name and, for an amateurs’ show, seemed to understand everything going on and what to expect.

  Annabel’s nervousness ramped up as the toy breeds and their handlers showed themselves off. A toy poodle with a giant attitude won first place.

  Annabel stood up and pinned the paper with her entry number on her shirt. For the last time, she plucked the last stray pieces of straw off Oliver’s neck.

  “Next up are the mixed breeds,” came the announcement.

  “All the best to both of you,” Dustin said.

  “Knock ‘em dead, you two,” Bob said and patted Oliver’s head. “Go strut your stuff.”

  Annabel started off with Oliver to her left, and since she was at the front, she led the pack as everyone else folded in behind her. She walked a quick pace around the side and straight past the judge and tables. The line behind her was longer than any of the previous categories. Handsome mixed dogs trotted along. One strutted hind legs like a German shepherd but had a face like a Corgi; another had a tail like an American Husky but a coat like an Irish Setter. As she closed in on the tail end of the line, it became one confluent circle of at least twenty dogs.

  She made a full stop and became the first one to begin the stationary line-up. Oliver sat down without any prompting and they waited. The man came forward. He didn’t give Annabel the time of day, but glued his eyes on Oliver and every dog next in line.

  He spoke with the woman and she stepped forward. “Fourth place …”

  Annabel held her breath, but the woman called someone else and presented them with their prize of a ribbon. She repeated the process and gave out another ribbon.

  Phew, Annabel thought. The experience had been a blast but, for sure, they had not been serious about winning. The woman called second place and sure enough, Oliver didn’t win. Annabel turned towards the bench where Bob, Dustin, and Nell watched, and she shrugged
her shoulders and readied herself in her mind to walk over.

  “And first place in the mixed breeds goes to number one hundred and thirty-one, Oliver with Annabel Tilson.”

  Annabel’s jaw dropped and her eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. She was more shocked than if she scored higher than Stuart Schneider on a medical rotation test. Looking at the red-hatted lady, she pointed to herself. The woman nodded and waved her over. Applause ensued and she realized Oliver deserved the attention.

  “You did it, boy!”

  Oliver’s happy face glanced up at her. The woman handed her the first-place prizes, a step up from second through fourth place. She placed a tall trophy in her hands with a metal dog statue on top, a blue ribbon, and five dollars.

  “Thank you,” Annabel said with as much pride as when she’d received her letter of acceptance to medical school.

  At the bench, Bob locked eyes with Annabel. “We did it,” he said as they gave each other a spontaneous hug. Then they both crouched down and loved on Oliver.

  Dustin and Nell stole a glance at each other and Annabel stood back up.

  “Congrats,” Dustin said.

  “Oliver deserved it!” She lowered her voice and nodded towards the ring. “I guess I better keep it down.” The woman began announcing the novelty class for ducks, rabbits, and other less common pets. The lady nearby plucked her bunny out of the carriage.

  “Is Oliver going to treat us to some junk food with the money he just won?” Nell asked.

  “Ha,” Bob said. “I think Annabel and I should put it towards his college education.”

  They sat petting Oliver while the novelty class and cat breed contest took place and the event officially finished. Dogs sniffed each other and tails wagged as everyone departed the pavilion.

  “How about grabbing some food and strolling around for a while?” Annabel asked, addressing them all. They came to the asphalt path with a plethora of makeshift buildings and food vendors.

  “Sounds good to me,” Bob said.

 

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