“Like I’m making a deal with Satan.” Hobie sighed. “So you disagree?”
There was a long pause before BJ answered. “I...suppose not.”
“Okay then. Do we have a deal?” She held out her hand.
BJ counted to ten before she answered. It wasn’t that she was still mad at Hobie, but something inside her never let go of an argument. When BJ took a step back, inside her head, and looked at the situation, she realized she really didn’t want to fight with Hobie.
“Deal,” she finally said. Perhaps staying away from Hobie was the best thing after all.
“Okay,” Hobie said. “Do you still want to look around while I eat?”
“Yeah, why not. Beats a sharp stick in the eye.”
They agreed to meet back at the car an hour later. Hobie walked off to the Cove and BJ grabbed her crutches and decided to explore the town.
“Well, that was fun.” BJ leaned against the car and glanced at her watch. She shook her wrist to make sure it was running. “Now all I have to do is think of something to do for fifty more minutes.”
BJ yawned, stretched, and listened to her stomach rumble. Damn! She looked longingly at the Cove’s entrance. She stopped a passer-by and asked the man if there was anywhere else to eat in town.
“Anywhere else?”
“Yeah, besides Rebecca’s Cove,” she said. The conversation didn’t hold a lot of promise.
“The Cove’s open,” he said in confusion.
“I know, but...it’s a long story. I just want to find out if there’s anywhere else to eat in town.”
“Why would ya want to eat somewhere else when the Cove’s right there?”
BJ sighed and seriously thought about asking the man if he was Rod Serling, but she figured the sarcasm would be lost on him. “Right you are,” she said loudly. “What could I have been thinking? The Cove it is.”
Walking into Rebecca’s Cove for the second time that day was an entirely different experience. No one seemed to notice her, except for the man who held the door open for her. “Whaddaya say, Coach?”
“Middle linebacker.” Walter Cassidy pointed a finger at her. “Right again.”
Once inside, BJ saw that nearly every person in Ana Lia came to the Cove for lunch. Two additional waitresses scurried around the tables and booths, while JoJo minded the counter. The sounds of noisy conversation and dishes banging together filled the air.
She scanned the restaurant for an empty seat, but there was none available. A narrow booth opened up, but she knew she could never get her casted leg inside the tiny space. She was about to turn around and leave when she spied an empty seat at the counter. She was halfway across the restaurant when she realized who the empty seat was next to. This is the story of my life.
Hobie turned to smile at whoever sat beside her. The smile froze on her face. She arched one eyebrow.
“Look, I don’t like this any more than you,” BJ said. “I’m only sitting here because it’s the only seat available.”
Hobie shrugged and turned away. “It really doesn’t matter.” “I’d sit somewhere else if I could.”
“S’okay.”
“It’s just that with this cast, well, the booths are kinda out, and—”
“Look, I really don’t care!”
“Okay, okay. Touchy. What’s good to eat here for lunch?” BJ asked, looking around at the surrounding patrons’ plates.
“Duck’s breath burgers.”
“Well, if you’re not going to even be serious—”
Hobie grabbed the menu from BJ’s hand and pointed to the sandwich section.
“Oh...duck’s breath burgers. Okay, now what’s good to eat that wasn’t quacking around in the backyard yesterday? Okay, okay...don’t give me that look. What the heck is it, anyway?”
At that moment, JoJo set a plate on the counter in front of Hobie. It contained a massive hamburger and a generous helping of thick-cut French fries.
“It looks good, but why the name?”
Hobie lifted the plate and held it under BJ’s nose.
“Whoa, mama!” BJ declared at the overpowering odor of garlic. “I hope your patients don’t mind.”
“I’m a vet. I see animals all day. They probably just think I’m one of them.”
Hobie went back to ignoring BJ, and BJ continued to peruse the menu. The distinctive strains of conversation lifted above all the other background noises and BJ looked above the register to see a television mounted on the wall. Her eyebrows came together after she had listened for a few moments.
“Is everyone watching that TV?” she asked Hobie. “Yes.”
“Are you watching it?” “I’m trying.”
“Very funny. What’s this show called?” “El Darkside del Amor.”
“The Dark Side of Love?” BJ smiled. “Is that what it means?”
“Yes. Is everyone watching this particular show?” “Pretty much everyone.”
“Every day?” “For years now.” “And you?”
“Since I moved back to Ana Lia,” Hobie said. “It’s kind of a tradition.”
“You do know it’s a Spanish soap opera? That they’re not speaking in English?”
“Of course I do!”
BJ paused but couldn’t let it go. “Hobie, do you speak Spanish?”
“No.”
BJ waited a few heartbeats before asking her next inevitable question. She wasn’t exactly sure she wanted to hear the answer, however. “Does anyone here speak Spanish?”
“Mmm, not that I can think of.”
JoJo stepped up to take BJ’s order. “What’ll it be, Ms. Warren?” she asked, followed by a bright smile.
“A healthy dose of sanity, please. Oh, what the hell, a duck’s breath burger, heavy on the garlic.”
“Good morning, Dr. Allen. Good morning, Miss Grant.” Hobie and Laura mentally groaned. Lisa Carini was a
precocious ten-year-old who yearned to be a veterinarian. She had a small menagerie at home, and whenever she brought one of her pets into the office, it turned into an all-day question-and-answer session. She was intelligent and knowledgeable but the most infuriating child around. Inside her Red Ryder wagon was Percival, her five-foot green tree python. Mostly green with a bluish-white stripe down his back, he lay there, unmoving, a large lump in his middle.
“What have we here?” Hobie turned on her doctor’s voice. “What we have here is Percival. Your memory isn’t too good, is it?”
“Lisa!” Mrs. Carini reprimanded her daughter.
Hobie took a deep breath and began again. She couldn’t find much fault with Lisa. She had been the same way as a child.
“Okay, why don’t you tell me why Percival is here?” Hobie said.
“He won’t move. I don’t understand it. I had him in the backyard yesterday and I went to clean the pool. He was wrapped around his tree when I left, but when I came back, he was like this. I read that males can become lethargic at certain times of the year.”
Laura and Hobie looked at each other and braced themselves for one of Lisa’s zoological tirades.
“However, since I’m not breeding Percival, I don’t understand it.” Lisa scratched her elbow and continued. “I understand that if a snake sits all day, he can grow obese and constipated, which is why we are here today, Doctor.”
Hobie did a cursory examination of the reptile. She poked and prodded him, tickling his belly with the tip of a blunt hook until he loosened up and removed his head from inside his coils. She easily saw the problem, but Lisa and her family had probably never seen him in this shape because they fed him nothing larger than small rats.
“The good news is that there’s nothing wrong with him that another few days won’t cure,” Hobie said.
“I don’t think he’s constipated. I track all the dates of his stool defecation for his feeding schedule,” Lisa said in a self-important manner.