“Oh, it’s no problem,” I told Ellie. “Where’s Susan, by the way?”
“Oh, she’s out tonight. I don’t want anyone around here seeing me like this, so I told her to just take the week off. Plus I think mom’s death, and now Corey’s, really affected her. She hasn’t been herself. But then, neither have I.”
She laughed, a hollow laugh that sounded almost manic. “I’m sorry. You go home. Thanks for talking to me, I really appreciate it.”
“You take care of yourself,” I told Ellie as we headed back towards the front of the house. “I know it hurts, but it will get better. I promise.”
Ellie nodded, a single tear streaking its way down her face. “I know. I keep telling myself that. This too shall pass. My mom always used to say that. This too shall pass.”
I gave Ellie a quick hug before heading home, a feeling of melancholy passing over me slightly. I thought of my own parents, the parents I never got to know well enough to really feel at their deaths. After all, to a four year old, what even is death? It’s an abstract concept. I didn’t know what Lisa meant when she said mommy and daddy had gone to heaven. I knew I was sad they weren’t coming back, but that was it. A little bit of sadness. Like when a client moves away and I know I won’t see their pet again. That was the kind of sadness I remembered feeling when I heard mommy and daddy weren’t coming back. I remembered it being more of a slow release, the grief, as I got older and began to understand that they really weren’t ever coming back. But the older I got, the less I remembered them.
I wiped a tear that I didn’t even realize was there off my cheek. I really needed that bottle of wine, now.
Chapter 15
The first thing I did when I got to work the next day was to put up the new photos I’d gotten from Ellie the day before. Behind Karen’s receptionist desk was a large corkboard where I put up any Christmas or thank you cards I got from clients, as well as pictures of their happy and healthy pets that they sent me. I grabbed a couple of thumbtacks and carefully put the picture of Touch of Frost up, along with the one of the mare and his foal. Sure, the latter two weren’t exactly clients, but I didn’t have any other horses whose pictures I could put up. It wasn’t like Touch of Midnight was recognizable yet, anyway. He was still a foal, he had a long way to go before he would reach the same fame as his father.
“First you abandon me for a dog, and now a horse. Why do you hate my species so much, you racist?” Bee asked. As soon as we got in that morning she immediately curled up into a little ball in her bed on the counter, but apparently wasn’t so tired that she couldn’t complain about Touch of Frost.
“First of all, I’m fairly certain the term racist doesn’t apply to inter-species dislike. And secondly, I haven’t abandoned you for a horse. Touch of Frost is a client. I put lots of client photos up here.”
“You don’t have photos of me up there.”
“That’s because you’re not a client, you’re my special little kitty-poo,” I told her, walking over to where she was and giving Bee a big, exaggerated hug that earned me a hiss in return.
“I still have my claws, and I will use them,” Bee muttered angrily, and I laughed as I stood up and left her in peace.
“You can’t complain that I don’t like you, and then complain when I give you affection,” I told my cat, glancing at her side-on.
“I can too. I want your love, but only when it suits me, and only a limited amount.”
I laughed as I saw Karen coming up the street and into the clinic.
“Oh, is that Touch of Frost?” she asked when saw the pictures, dropping her bag off on the little shelf under the receptionist desk.
“Yeah, it is,” I replied happily. “And his foal, Touch of Midnight.”
“What a little cutie patootie.”
“That little cutie cost his owner half a million bucks. Apparently that’s the going rate for Touch of Frost’s sperm these days.”
Karen’s mouth dropped open. “Wow! I guess that explains how they were able to pay you so much for a consult when he was sick.”
“Definitely. So who’s my first appointment for the day?”
Karen opened up the appointment program on the computer.
“You’ve got Natasha Klein, bringing in Deko. The little Jack Russel who broke his leg?”
“Awwww, I do. That little dude has so much energy, he just doesn’t know when to stop. He jumped out a second story window, onto the garage and then down onto the ground, right?”
Karen reviewed the notes and nodded. “Yeah. Luckily he landed in the garden and not on some concrete.”
“Good. He should be healed up by now so I’ll give him some X-rays to double check.”
“And then second you’ve got… oh, yeah. You remember Gloria, that talkative old lady with the cat that likes Bee?”
She didn’t make any other movement, but I could have sworn I saw Bee’s ear twitch when Karen said that.
“Yeah?” I replied.
“Well, it turns out he’s got a patch of fur missing, and he’s been licking at it for a bit. So she called yesterday afternoon and she’s the second appointment of the day.”
“Ok, perfect, thanks Karen,” I told her. A missing patch of fur and excessive licking was usually a sign of stress. We’d have to see, anyway. Maybe Buster wasn’t adjusting well to the move.
I didn’t have too long to think about it, because ten minutes later I heard the familiar yips of a certain overactive terrier who knew where his owner was taking him and wasn’t happy about it. I smiled to myself. Poor Deko. At least nothing bad was going to happen today, he was just going to get some X-rays and a checkup to make sure his leg was fine.
Forty-five minutes and a confirming X-Ray later, Deko was back out in the world with a completely healthy leg, ready to go out and create even more chaos. I was helping Sophie clean the exam room and get it ready for Buster when I heard Gloria’s voice out in the waiting area.
“Oh hello there Karen, how are you doing today? Isn’t the weather just lovely this time of year? I absolutely love it.”
I heard Karen reply. “If you want to go grab Buster I’ll bring up his profile,” I told Sophie, going over to the computer in the corner where we kept the files on all our animal clients. The program was slow to load, and by the time I finally got Buster’s chart up, about two minutes later, Sophie still wasn’t back.
“Uh, Angie?” Sophie said, coming back into the room. “I think you may want to come out here and see this.”
I followed Sophie out into the waiting area, where Bee and Buster had jumped on top of the tall cabinet at the back of the clinic where we stored all the specialized dog and cat food that we occasionally sold.
“Buster, get down from there!” Gloria was scolding, one hand on her hip.
“I’m not. You can’t make me.”
“We really need to put something on top of there,” I muttered to Sophie as I walked over to the bookcase.
“Bee, I don’t know what kind of dumb joke you’re doing, but you need to stop. Buster needs me to look at his leg. He’s licking at it.”
“You don’t need to look at his leg, he’s fine.”
I glared at my cat. Obviously in front of Gloria and Karen, I couldn’t reply.
“Come on. Come on down now, this isn’t funny.”
“We’re not coming down. Tell Gloria to come back later.”
I grabbed Karen’s chair in response and stood up on it, bringing me up to eye level with the two most mischievous cats in Willow Bay.
“I have just about had it with the both of you,” I muttered, and the two of them exchanged a look. As I reached for Buster he made a leap for it, hitting the corkboard with all the photos on it and making it crash to the floor with a loud bang, then bouncing off from there and landing on the counter before swiftly running along the back of the chairs in the waiting area and jumping on top of the door leading to the exam areas. It swung towards the wall from the force of his landing on it, but of course, being a cat, Buster kept his balance perfectly. A split second later Bee also tried to jump for it, but the difference was, I knew my cat too well. I knew exactly how she jumped, and I caught her in mid-air, resisting her swipes as she hissed at me. I carried her under the armpits, at arm’s length as she struggled. This was good, I had a hostage. I couldn’t believe I was actually to the point where I was holding my cat hostage.