Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Later that evening, after I’ve eaten dinner and walked my spoiled chocolate lab, I lounge on the couch with a glass of wine and binge the latest episode of the reality dating show Cupid’s Arrow. I enjoy all the drama.
If I applied to be a contestant, would I get Dylan’s attention? Probably not. I doubt he has any clue about the show. I sigh. Well, if I became a contestant, at the very least, it would propel me back into the dating world. I’ve been a single woman since my undergrad days.
I’ve been on dates here and there since then, but my last serious boyfriend broke up with me between our freshman and sophomore years.
He claimed I was too focused on studying.
Which, in his defense, I was. I was obsessed with maintaining a perfect grade point average.
Getting into vet school is more competitive than med school. I needed every advantage I could get.
Once I’d finally made it to Colorado State, I continued to make the university library my second home. I was always cramming for an upcoming exam or working at my internship. I never made time for having a life. That was until Dylan came along.
My brain relives this morning’s interaction. My mood drops. Maybe watching a dating show isn’t the best idea right now. I click off the Connected Hearts Network and flip to the Hallmark channel. It’s the middle of November, and they’re already showing their holiday movies.
There’s a girl and a guy on the screen sitting in a grand ballroom in front of a Christmas tree.
Perfect. I need something low stress and predictable.
I may have missed the first hour of the movie, but at least I can count on the couple getting together and being able to magically save whatever business is about to go bust, or one of them learning the true meaning of Christmas.
Padding over to my freezer, I pull out a pint of my favorite dark chocolate, fudge, and cherry ice cream.
Hopefully it’s still good. Who knows how long it’s been sitting in my freezer.
Actually, I take that back. I remember buying it about six months ago on the day Dylan mentioned he’d accepted a research position at our alma mater, studying vultures.
I pry off the lid and take a small test bite.
A chunk of chocolate hits my tongue at the same time as a piece of the tangy cherry.
I chew and swallow. There’s a hint of freezer burn, but it’s still delicious.
As I move around the kitchen, looking for my supply of gummy bears to throw on top, Max lets out a low whine.
I laugh. “Don’t worry. If I get a treat, you do too. ”
His tail wags wildly from side to side. I pull a few bone-shaped biscuits from the cabinet and set them in his bowl.
Not wasting a moment, he devours them. Only crumbs remain by the time I’m settled back on the couch.
Max whines for more, but when I don’t give in, he huffs and plants himself on his bed. He knows I mean business.
As I reach for the remote, my phone chimes. I expect it to be Dylan, but to my surprise, it’s Fernando.
Fernando: Hola, Dr. B. I’m sorry to bother you. Does that offer for help still stand?
I thought I made myself clear on the phone. Or else I wouldn’t have given him my number. I start typing.
Ava: Yes. What’s up?
Fernando: The cat has finally come out of hiding, but he’s covered in mud. He must’ve snuck outside somehow when I wasn’t looking. I know cats can bathe themselves, but is mud something they can eat?
Yikes. Mud and cats do not mix. I sit taller.
Ava: In small amounts, mud is okay, but in large amounts, they need help. How bad is it?
Fernando: Let me send you a photo.
It pops into our thread. The brown goop is so thick that I can’t make out what color the feline is.
Ava: This poor little one is going to need a bath.
What I don’t mention is that if it doesn’t manage to come out with shampoo and water, the cat will have to be shaved. Which is no fun for anyone.
Fernando: That’s what I was afraid of. Do you know if any groomers are open this late?
Ava: I doubt it. Even if they were, most groomers don’t do cats. You’ll be better off bathing the cat yourself. You’ll need warm water, and if you have it, some cat-friendly shampoo.
Fernando: I think I saw some dog shampoo in the bathroom, would that work?
Ava: It’s not a good idea. Dog and cat shampoos technically do the same thing, but the ingredients in dog versions can have some harmful effects on a cat’s skin.
I chew on my lip. Fernando is clearly in over his head. Even for an experienced person, giving most cats a bath is a workout. Not only do felines usually hate water, but unless you hold them the right way, it’s easy to become a human scratching post.
Ava: I’ll tell you what, why don’t you bring the cat down to the clinic and we’ll clean him up there.
Fernando: That would be amazing! Do you have any openings for the morning?
Ava: No appointment required. Doctor’s orders. Are you in Grizzly Springs, Sequoia Valley, or Lake Wakahanra?
Fernando: Sequoia Valley.
Ava: Then it should be easy to get to my practice. The address is 2200 State Highway Three in Sequoia Valley. Is a half hour enough time for you to get there?
Fernando: You mean you’d be willing to meet us tonight?
Ava: Yes. We don’t want that cat being muddy any longer than necessary.
Fernando: Are you sure? I don’t want to ruin your evening.
I stare at the ice cream sitting on my coffee table. My evening was already a wash.
Ava: You won’t be. I’m not doing anything.
Fernando: Then I’ll be there in thirty minutes.
Ava: See you there.
Izip through central Grizzly Springs and make it to the clinic in twenty minutes.
The parking lot is empty since the other shops in the strip mall are closed.
I grab my usual spot right in front of the door.
There’s just enough time to flip the lights on and prep one of the exam rooms before the front door jingles open.
“Hello? Dr. B?” Fernando’s voice calls out.
“In exam room two. Would you mind making sure the front door shuts completely behind you? I don’t want anyone else to think we’re open and sneak in.” There’s a click, followed by the squeak of his tennis shoes against the floor. “Thanks,” I shout.
“No problem.”
I survey my setup one last time. Towels, soap, multiple bowls of warm water, gloves, shampoo, and an electric razor. I think I’ve collected everything we need.
I step out of the exam room. “Hi, Fernando, it’s nice to finally meet you in the flesh.”
Waiting for me is a tall man with sun-kissed skin and thick brown hair that looks like it belongs in a shampoo commercial.
It’s messy in that effortlessly perfect way that no normal human could ever pull off.
His eyes are big and warm, deep-brown and framed by long lashes.
Cradled against his broad chest is a soft-sided carrier, and from inside, a cat lets out a dramatic meow.
“Likewise, Doctor.”
The way he rolls the R at the end of “doctor” sends a shiver up my spine. He reminds me of one of my favorite audiobook narrators. I could listen to him talk for hours on end.
I break eye contact and clear my throat. “Come on in.” I need to focus. I have a patient. “Go ahead and set the carrier down on the table. I’d like to examine our friend here first to make sure there aren’t any injuries. Then we’ll head over to the sink.”
“That sounds like a plan.”
I slowly unzip the top of the carrier. “The file said her name was Robin?”
“Yeah, that’s right.”
“It’s an interesting name for a feline. It reminds me of the bird.”
“Thank my friend Tim. He loves comic books.”
“Oh, is this guy named after Batman’s sidekick?” I don’t know much about comic books, but at least it’s a character I’ve heard of.
“Sí, that’s the one.”
“Are you a comic-book lover too?” I ask, glancing up at him.
“No. Tim’s tried to get me into them, but there’s too many different backstories and characters to keep track of. I like the movies though.”
“Me too.” My attention returns to the carrier. Robin has backed into a corner and made herself as small as possible. The few pieces of fur that aren’t caked in mud stick up straight. I lower my voice and speak softly. “Hi, Robin, I’m Dr. Brown and I’m here to help you.”
Robin anchors her claws firmly into the bottom of the carrier. Unfortunately for her, I know every trick in the book. I reach inside and gently pry her paws free.
“If you could put that on the floor.” I nod toward the case. “We don’t want her trying to sneak back into it.”
Fernando crouches to set the carrier down, and as he straightens, his arm lightly brushes mine. It sends a tiny spark dancing across my skin. I pretend not to notice, focusing on the cat.
Running my hands along Robin’s body, I check over her musculature. “She’s in good shape,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “I don’t feel or hear anything abnormal.”
“That’s a relief,” Fernando says, exhaling with a breath that ruffles a lock of hair over his forehead. His eyes meet mine for a second longer than they need to. Just enough to make me feel like I’ve forgotten how to blink. “If anything were to happen to him, I’d be toast.”
I clear my throat and break eye contact, returning my attention to Robin, who lets out a dramatic meow. Like all animals, she’s an expert at reading human emotions. Same, girl.
I stroke her a few times. Mud comes off on my hands. By now, the pheromone diffusers in the room have kicked in. The poor animal has started to relax. “Is this your first time watching your friend’s cat?”
“Sí. My first and probably my last. They told me pet sitting would be a piece of cake, but so far, it’s been a nightmare. I have no idea what I’m doing with the cat and turtle.”
“For what it’s worth, I think you’re doing a good job,” I reassure him. “You’ve asked all the right questions and found help when you needed it. By the time your friend returns home, you’ll be an expert.” I laugh.