Chapter 2
Theo
“Arthur?” I call, quietly opening the back door to the clinic.
No answer. I glance over my shoulder to check that it’s really his car in the employee parking lot, and yep, it’s hard to mistake that DRDOG vanity plate.
Normally, he’s more likely to stroll in around ten, after his two-eggs-and-pancakes breakfast at Kevin’s Diner.
And honestly, I don’t blame the guy. When I’m seventy-four, I hope I get to mosey around at my own pace and show up to things whenever I want.
Garrett, the clinic’s other veterinarian, and I handle everything fine without Arthur anyway.
My ears perk at the sound of shuffling papers, and I follow the rustling to .
. . my office. Arthur is hunched at my desk, sliding files around, mumbling to himself.
It’s likely he didn’t hear me come in, given the fact that he refuses to wear his hearing aids when his wife isn’t around to make him.
“Morning,” I greet loudly from the doorway.
He peers up at me over the top of his glasses. “Theo. Good morning.”
“You’re so early I thought I might be hallucinating,” I tease.
As he reaches for a file, his elbow bumps my cup of pens, sending them rolling across my desk. A low curse falls from his lips.
“Can I find something for you?” I ask, helping him gather them back up.
“Need to look at the financials,” he mumbles, opening Grover’s file like the Saint Bernard’s vitals and test results might be hiding what he’s looking for.
“Remember, Jenna helped us get all of that digitized last month?”
“But I need to see it in my hands,” he explains, spreading them wide. “I don’t know how to find it on the computer. I need paper.”
I hide my smile. “I can help you.”
Garrett and I have some version of this conversation with Arthur several times a week.
He has been struggling with the digitization of our files since the beginning, no matter how many times we take him through the process of accessing things on his computer.
The man is still using a flip phone, so it might be a hopeless case.
“I can print whatever you need,” I offer, pointing to my computer. “Let me hop in that seat, and I’ll pull it up.”
He groans as he rises from my chair and moves to the spot by the door.
While my computer boots up, Arthur stares at the two pictures on my desk.
There’s a framed photo of my dog, Layla, and I at the coast last summer.
I’m snapping a selfie as her gritty tongue licks my cheek, a thick layer of sand covering her white-and-tan muzzle.
Next to that is my favorite snapshot—I have an arm around my sister, Mia, on one side, and my mom on the other.
We’re all laughing in our matching penguin pajamas on Christmas morning, our image tilting to the side as the phone fell right when the self-timer ended.
The computer’s welcome chime rings through the room. “All right, what are we printing?”
“Any financials from the last three years. I’m meeting with my lawyer later this week.”
My fingers trip over the keys as I type in my password. “Lawyer?” I scan the screen and click open the spreadsheets I think he’s looking for.
He shoves his glasses up his nose. “I’m getting old, Theo. About time I sold the practice.”
I straighten my shoulders. “Really?” I’ve been wondering when this day would come, hoping for a chance to prove myself as the perfect person to buy it.
He nods. “Garrett and I are going to talk about it after I meet with my lawyer.”
My stomach drops like I’m on an elevator falling thirty stories to the bottom. “Garrett? Why Garrett?” I croak. Why not me too?
His head tilts. “What do you mean?”
I swallow the lump in my throat. Fidget with the mouse in my grip. “I thought . . . well, I’d hoped to be considered as an option, I guess.”
Arthur shifts in his seat. “Garrett has the experience needed for something like this.”
Copper brushes my tongue as I bite the inside of my cheek to stop my words from spilling out. Since I came back to town Garrett and I have been running this place together. We’ve been splitting duties right down the middle. After-hours calls, opening early, leaving late.
Together.
Maybe it’s irrational to think I stand a chance, but I’d love to at least discuss the option.
“Susie and I are ready to move closer to the kids,” Arthur informs me, face pensive.
“You know, I have a new grandbaby due to arrive this summer, and I think it’s about time for me to retire.
I want to leave this place in the hands of someone stable and committed to this community, and Garrett’s proven he is.
He and I have similar styles, and I can see him running this place the way I have. He can keep the legacy alive.”
I clench my jaw so hard I think I might crack a tooth. This clinic is running smoothly because Garrett and I balance each other out so well. “I’d really love a chance to be in the mix. I think Garrett and I could be a great team. Heck, we already are.”
He offers me an apologetic smile. “Theo, I appreciate all you’ve done over the last two months. You’re a hard worker, but you left this practice high and dry once. Who’s to say you aren’t going to do it again? Garrett’s been here consistently for almost ten years.”
Shame coils in my chest. My shoulders drop.
He’s right. I did leave, hardly more than a year into working here.
I’d come back after college, thinking I was ready to build a life in my hometown.
Fern River is where I grew up, made friends, and started to learn about myself.
It’s where most of my happy childhood memories are held.
But it’s home to my worst ones too. It’s the place where my dad’s uncontrollable anger multiplied.
It’s where that anger trickled down to me, resulting in a very public screwup at the town parade—effectively ending my closest friendship.
It’s where I got in too many fights in high school and pushed away everyone I cared about.
It was painful to be in this town, reminded of every detail on a daily basis.
So when my grandparents’ health started to decline and they asked for help, I jumped at the opportunity to move to their house in Oregon. It felt like the perfect way to escape the memories that were haunting me in Fern River.
Arthur sighs. “I don’t want any bad blood between us, but my gut is telling me that Garrett is the right choice for this.”
Clearing my throat, I open a few files on the computer.
“I know I haven’t been here as long as Garrett, but I’ve helped a lot in the time I have been.
” It feels ridiculous to beg, but I’m going to try anyway.
“It’s right here in these spreadsheets. Even adding in my salary, I’ve found ways to lower our overhead costs.
I’ve increased the number of patients we can see every day and the amount of money we can donate back into the community. ”
He shakes his head. “And I appreciate all of that. This isn’t to say you can’t keep working here.
I’m sure Garrett would love to have you on staff.
But I’ve never gotten the impression you were settling down in Fern River permanently.
” Arthur waves a wrinkly hand across the hall, toward Garrett’s closed office door.
“This is his home, his community. He’s not going anywhere. ”
I picture Garrett’s office wall. It’s a mural of memories. Photos of pets, hand-drawn art from kids, framed pictures of his work in the community—all hard evidence of the life he has built over the last ten years.
My office walls are bare. Stark white.
With a resigned sigh, I open the rest of the documents he needs.
The printer whirs to life in the hallway, and he stands.
“You’re a great vet, Theo, but this clinic is my life’s work.
It means the world to me. I need to know I’m leaving it in the hands of someone who will take care of it.
Hopefully you’ll understand one day.” And with a pat to the doorframe, he walks out.
All the oxygen in the room leaves with him, and I deflate in my chair, staring at my desk in a daze. Distantly, I hear the back door open and footsteps in the hallway. Our office manager, Jenna, tosses me a greeting, but I don’t even have the energy to respond.
Leaving Fern River years ago was an impulsive decision, but it felt like the only right choice in the moment.
I don’t regret the time I spent with my grandparents—those years were invaluable to me—but I ended up staying in Oregon longer than necessary.
Even after they passed away, I spent two more years there, avoiding Fern River and the emotions that come along with it.
Life in Oregon was lonely, though. I had never let myself get settled there—never made friends or had relationships that lasted longer than one evening. I felt like my life was on pause. I was holding my breath, waiting for something I couldn’t identify.
Then, a few months ago, Mom called. She was going on about work she needed done on the house, the gardening technique she wanted to try, her book club’s pick that month, and giving me updates on the Oaks family.
All mundane things we chat about regularly.
But somewhere in that conversation, an overwhelming sense of homesickness washed over me.
Home was calling to me in a way that it never had before.
When I started looking for jobs, this position with Arthur immediately popped up, and it felt like a sign.
I had a gut feeling that it might be time to try again.
I don’t know what’s different now—maybe it’s the town or maybe it’s me—but something seems fresh this time, like a clean slate.
I finally feel ready to settle. Put down roots.
I want to rejoin the Volunteer Fire Department, get involved with Little League, and make a permanent place for myself here.
I’d love to heal my relationship with this town and make new memories to snuff out the bad ones.