Chapter Thirty-Nine
Blake
S itting behind the desk, I silently watch as my dad goes over Benji the Beagle’s care since he’s going home today. Adrian is bringing the dog from the back kennel.
I’ve been too distracted to really focus on what my dad’s saying for the last ten minutes.
I’m happy Benji’s going home. I really am. He’s made so much progress in the last few weeks. Over the last ten days, he’s really started to come back to his mischievous self and has every employee wrapped around his little, wagging tail.
It just feels so overwhelming actually seeing him make the recovery of any veterinarian’s dreams.
And over my dead body would I ever admit this to my dad, but I am going to miss having Benji here with us all the time.
In the last month I’ve spent more nights than that first one, with Adrian, sitting in his kennel at the end of a shift. Sometimes it’s just me and Benji, finding comfort in each other and the silence. Other times, Adrian shows up and we’d sit together, talking about random things—anything from our favorite colors to how he and Jatin have become new friends since the haunted house.
Not to put the fate of my relationship in a dog, but it kind of feels like Benji the Beagle’s a big part of what’s brought Adrian and I together.
I know by my dad’s standards—and maybe just the medical field in general—I’ve gotten too attached to Benji. Much like my attachment to Chispa has grown throughout her recovery.
The doors push open and Benji comes walking out. He’s still a little slower than usual and has a cone on, but his excitement to be on his way home is apparent.
Polly bursts out a sob as Benji gets to her, laying at her feet ready for pets. Her reaction makes the tears I’ve held at bay fall over. It’s just a few before I can get a handle on myself. But like he’s invisibly tied to me somehow, Adrian’s head turns in my direction.
As soon as it does, his face falls in affection and concern. He stands over there, holding the leash for Polly, though his gaze continues to move back to me.
It makes my heart ache—all of it. Benji the Beagle leaving, the way Adrian’s looking at me, even the tears in that pain in my ass’s eyes.
Finally, when my dad seems to be done talking to Polly, the two of them stand and walk to the front desk, Adrian trailing behind them. I’m doing my best to stay distracted by sending out confirmation emails and appointment reminders. Except as he moves to my side of the desk and leans his butt against the edge, I realize it’s a fruitless goal.
Turning my head up to him, a soft smile already forming on my face, a worse distraction catches my attention.
When my eyes snag on the scowl that Polly’s throwing in my direction, I can’t look away. Squinting at her, I huff, “What?”
“That’s no way to talk to a client, dear,” she scolds.
Adrian hides his snort with a fake cough but I’m too annoyed to tell him not to encourage her. Instead, like a petulant child, I snark back, “Well, it’s not okay to look at people like that , Polly.”
With a quirk of her eyebrow, she asks, “You aren’t going to add ‘pain in your ass’ to the end of that?” My mouth pops open in surprise, and even my dad and Adrian look stunned by her question.
“Excuse me?” I squeak out.
“You think I didn’t know about that?” For the first time in maybe ever, there’s clear amusement dropping from Polly’s tone.
“What are you going to do?” I retort, sarcasm thick. “Leave another one-star review?”
“Apparently, the Google only lets you leave one review for a place.” She lifts her nose in the air and that’s the last straw for Adrian. He covers his mouth, his laugh slipping through his fingers anyway.
“I’m going to leave you a one-star review, Polly.”
She flinches back, looking like someone just tried to steal the glasses off her face. “You can’t review people.”
“You can do just about anything on the Google these days—try me.”
Squinting at me, she turns her head toward my dad and tells him, “You’ve raised a horrible child.”
“I tell them that about Grady all the time,” I cut in with a dramatic eye roll.
To my dad again, she adds, “Fire her.”
The demand is undermined by the fact that her beagle has slipped out of her reach and tries to jump onto the desk between Adrian and me. When his cone knocks him back down, he lays on the ground, his tail wagging as he looks up at us with his signature puppy eyes.
Giving Polly a mocking smile, I lean down and pet Benji the Beagle’s back.
“I’m not going to fire my daughter, Polly,” my dad finally advocates for me but he’s grinning in entertainment too.
Just to piss her off more, I stick my tongue out at her. With that, she huffs and goes to grab Benji’s leash off the floor. Like the kind-hearted traitor that he is, Adrian gets to it before she can throw her back out or something.
She grabs it out of his hand in a dramatic manner and moves toward the door. Right as she’s stepping through the threshold, she looks over her shoulder at me and throws me a quick wink.
Biting back my smile and shaking my head, I look back at my dad and Adrian. There’s that familiar expression of adoration plastered on Adrian’s face—the one I’ve grown far too accustomed to in the last few weeks. However, my dad’s expression is more conflicted.
Seeming to pick up on the tension, Adrian softly knocks his knee against my leg before excusing himself. Once he’s pushed through the back doors, it’s just my dad and I in the lobby.
Looking up at him, I suddenly feel like a little girl again—that nostalgic cocktail of feeling like he’s the best person to ever walk this earth and wanting nothing more than for him to be proud of me.
And knowing, in my gut, he wouldn’t be after some of my recent decisions.
“Are you okay?” he asks. His tone is mostly paternal, caring.
“I’m okay,” I promise.
He looks at me for a long moment, letting his eyes sweep across my features—an even split of his and my mom’s—and try not to fidget.
He then asks, “You’re sure?” I hear that rare undertone of true authority, when he completely shuts the door on Dad Mode and moves into Boss Mode.
It’s not often, but it’s happening now.
“I’m sure,” I answer with more attitude than I intend. “I don’t see you asking anyone else that.”
We’ve never had a real fight. I’ve been grounded, lectured, and had the ‘I’m very disappointed in you’ guilt trips. But truthfully, I deserved all of those. He’s calm and fair, and a lot more patient than me.
Right now though, I can’t see those great traits of his.
Making a show of it, he looks around the room. “Don’t see anyone else about to cry because a now healthy pet is going home .”
Mimicking his gesture, I sweep my gaze across the room and shrug. “Don’t see anyone else here at all.”
With a deep sigh, which tells me he’s done with this day, he rubs his eyes for a minute before looking at me. Really looking at me. “I know it can be overwhelming—even when the results are good. But you have to separate yourself from the emotions. Even when you know someone as more than a client.”
Pushing past the guilt, I tell him, “I don’t plan on being a vet.”
Nodding slowly, he seems to be thinking through his next words. He’s always known that I had no desire to follow in his or my mom’s professional footsteps. “Are you planning on quitting this job sometime soon?” He gestures to the seat and desk.
“What?” I ask, clearly offended. “No?”
“Good. I love having you here, honey. Even in this role, there are certain boundaries you can’t cross.” His eyes bounce between mine. “I don’t want you to lose that heart of yours, Blake, but I also need you to hear what I’m saying.”
“Okay,” I insist. “I do.”
After another long moment of silence, he lets out a breath and some of the tension from his shoulders leaves. I know Dad Mode is back on before he even opens his mouth. “I love you, honey. And I am so proud of you.”
“I love you too, Dad.”
We both can tell that the conversation is done, though he’s reluctant to walk away. As soon as he’s out of sight, I can’t help but roll my eyes. It’s annoying that he’s lecturing me because I let out a few tears when Polly and Benji were officially reunited. I’ve seen all of his employees—and him—cry over a variety of cases, good and bad.
Except just as quickly, that annoyance is washed away and guilt bleeds into the cracks. Because maybe I wasn’t out of line this time… but that wasn’t the case with Zippy. And he was nicer than he needed to be when I came to the clinic after he asked me not to for Chispa’s surgery.
Not to mention I’ve gotten his new favorite employee mixed into the chaos created by my inability to say no sometimes.
With a heavy weight in my stomach, I start closing down the front and cleaning up for the night. Later in bed, after talking on the phone with Adrian and texting with my friends, it lingers—more potent—to the point that I feel that nausea of anxiety taking over again.