Chapter Five #2
I bent down to let Pickles lick the salty trail of tears from earlier.
“Give me just a second, buddy. Let me change out of my scrubs, and I’ll take you out.” Thank goodness my luggage had arrived last night after my humiliating swim, reuniting me with my scrub collection.
With Pickles in tow, I walked in bewilderment, feeling like I was in the Parade of Homes as I made the journey to my room.
In every space, oversized, framed photographs of Derek and Beth covered the walls.
Some were of them at their wedding, others from all the exotic places they had traveled together, and some seemed to be from here on the island.
When I entered my room, I took in again the light gray paint and the king-size bed placed in the middle, with a perfectly pressed white duvet atop it.
There were some seashells placed on top of the dresser, next to a framed picture of Beth and me.
We were maybe ten, the same height, and we had our arms wrapped around each other. My smile was wide.
Sitting on my bed was a wrapped box with a red bow. There was a card taped to the underside with my name in Beth’s feminine teacher's cursive.
Reese,
May this box bring you good luck and an abundance of happiness as you find your Hawaiian Ever After.
Love, B.
I laughed a little at her pun as Pickles sniffed at the card. I started to unwrap the paper, but stalled instantly when I saw the words ‘MAGNUM’ and ‘Pineapple Flavored’ across the top.
My cousin bought me condoms? And Magnum ones, nonetheless? I finished unwrapping the ‘present’ and set it down on the bed.
Shaking my head, I headed for my suitcase in the corner, making a mental note to unpack later tonight when I had a free moment.
Relief washed over me as I dragged off the long scrub pants, but I touched my sting marks gingerly.
I wasn’t sure how long these would be around for.
With my badge picture taken care of, I pulled my hair into a ponytail and headed to the ensuite bathroom.
I had learned the hard way never to have my hair pulled back for a badge picture.
You will, no matter how pretty your face is, always look like a bald man.
I was just about to exit the bathroom when I heard a gagging sound. I quickly burst through the doors to find Pickles gagging, with the torn box of condoms at his paws.
“Pickles! No!” I ran over and tried prying his mouth open. He looked up at me with his shaggy face and did one last big gulp.
I turned to the box and counted that there were twenty condoms left. I began to examine the remnants of the cardboard condom box scattered on the ground. A tiny sliver remained that said ‘50’ in black, bold font. How much sex did she think I was going to have here?
Pickles chose that moment to lick my face, and his breath smelled like pineapples and latex.
“You ate thirty condoms while I was getting changed? I thought we were friends!” I brought our foreheads together, and Pickles gave me more condom-flavored kisses.
I reached for my phone to call Beth, but it went straight to voicemail. She had told me there were certain spots on the island where you didn’t get cell service. I panicked as I looked for Derek’s number, but then remembered that I didn’t have it. I hadn’t even met him.
I started to Google if it was ‘okay’ if a dog ate condoms and kept finding words like blockages and death.
It was enough for me to begin searching for a local vet office.
When the results popped up, I hit the little map icon and clicked on the one closest to me.
Dr. Iona was only two miles away. He had seventy-five reviews and a four-point-nine out of five stars rating, and they closed at 5:00 pm.
I looked at the clock and saw that it was now 4:00 PM.
I slipped on a tank top and shorts, then grabbed Pickles’ leash and connected it, leading him out to the Prius. I tried to get him in the back, but he plopped down in the garage, refusing to budge.
“C’mon, buddy. We need to get going.” I picked him up, forcing his front end into the back, and started pushing on his butt. He let out a foul fart, and I jumped back, afraid of what might follow.
Beth was going to kill me. If I hadn’t just killed her dog (death by condom), then I was going to have to at least foot the bill to get the car detailed after her dog was done with the mess that was guaranteed to happen.
After two more attempts, I gave up and opened the passenger door. Pickles hopped in as if I had suggested we go for a Sunday stroll.
My hands were slightly shaky as I punched in Dr. Iona’s address and high-tailed it out of the gated neighborhood. Pickles tapped at the glass with his paw, and I sighed as I rolled down the window. He stuck his head out, letting his tongue flap in the wind. At least one of us was enjoying this.
I tried calling Beth again, but only got her voicemail. This time, I left a message.
“Hey, B. It’s me. Give me a call when you can. I have a little situation, and I need your help.” I left it at that. Years of nursing had taught me never to leave bad news on someone’s voicemail.
I tried to push the Prius faster, but it was an older model and took forever to get up to speed. Maybe I should have taken that G-Wagon or the muscle car instead, not that I would know how to drive it. After what felt like an hour, but was probably only ten minutes, I pulled up to the vet.
I rushed to the other side and opened Pickles’ door. He jumped down, and I led him, as calmly as I could, through the front doors.
A native Hawaiian woman in her mid-thirties was at the front desk. She was wearing a purple scrub top with little orange tabby cats on it. She looked up and smiled at me.
“Aloha! Do you have an appointment today?” she asked kindly.
“No, we don’t. We might have an emergency, though.” Pickles was tugging on the leash, trying to sniff out all the new scents in the waiting area. Luckily, there wasn’t anyone else in the lobby.
Her face turned serious as she got up to meet us on the other side of the counter. An Australian Shepherd peeked his head around the counter, and Pickles started going crazy trying to get to him.
“What’s going on?” she asked calmly while looking Pickles over.
I glanced around the room one more time to confirm that we were alone. “Umm, you see, Pickles here consumed some condoms. Like thirty pineapple-flavored condoms,” I whispered the last part.
To the receptionist’s credit, she didn’t laugh in my face like I had imagined the entire drive over. “How long ago did this occur? Has he vomited since?” She stroked his head.
“No more than fifteen minutes ago. And no, he has not vomited.”
“I’m going to take you guys back to an exam room and let Dr. Iona know what happened.” She led us down a hallway to a small room with an exam table in the middle. Framed photos of happy animals covered the walls.
“Dr. Iona will be just a few moments,” she said.
“Thank you....” I realized I didn’t even get her name. I tried to read her name tag, but her rich brown hair was covering it.
“Kalani.” She smiled warmly at me as she shut the exam door behind her.
I tapped my foot nervously as I waited for the doctor to arrive. Why hadn’t Beth called me back?
I felt as though I might vomit when I heard a knock on the door. It opened, and Pickles jumped right up, ready to greet the doctor. My eyes met a pair of steel blue ones, and I felt like I was going to pass out.