Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Dixon
“That was genius,” AJ said, “makin’ the kids come up with their own ending.”
“I don’t know about genius, but I know how hard bein’ stuck in a hospital is, how boring and lonely. This way, they have somethin’ extra to focus on if they want to. And maybe some of the kids will start to imagine other stories.”
Like Stu.
Being around other kids made me ache to see him again. What was he thinking about right now, right this very minute? Was he home from school? Did Bax and Bea allow him a popsicle, or were they more the “apples are a good after school snack” kind of people?
“I’ll drop you back at your car,” AJ said as she drove through town. Rain still fell, but it had quieted to a mist. “Thanks for goin’ with me. I think the children really enjoyed story time.”
“Yeah,” I said, thinking I’d really enjoyed it too. Maybe AJ was right. Maybe I should start writing my stories down. I mean, I didn’t have any expectations that I’d become some kind of bestselling author, but what could it hurt to jot down the crap running amok in my head?
I thought about it while we drove. AJ was quiet, too, and she had this small, serene smile on her face the whole way. She turned on her van’s radio halfway to Lee Valley, and old eighties pop songs played in the background.
When she pulled up behind my El Camino, I asked, “If you were gonna write some stories down, what would you use? Your phone? Plain ol’ paper?”
Turning slowly to face me, she judged the look in my eyes and spoke carefully, like she didn’t want to spook me out of my plan. “I’d use my laptop. There’s a free document program you could use. I’ll show you.”
“I don’t have a laptop.”
“You can use my old one. It still works. I bought a new one because it came out in a pretty pink color and has a bigger screen, but the old one is tried and true.”
“I can’t take your—”
“Dixon, it’s a used laptop, not a car, and if you don’t take it, it’ll just collect dust on the shelf in my closet. It’s a gift. Please accept it.”
“Okay,” I said. “If you insist. Thanks.”
The smile lighting her eyes was magnificent, and the dimples I still remembered showed around her mouth. “You’re welcome. Now, get to work. I’ll text you this weekend.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said as I opened my door.
“Oh, but if I don’t get back to you right away, forgive me.
I’m startin’ my second job at the animal clinic tomorrow mornin’.
They didn’t tell me the hours, so I don’t know how long I’ll be.
And then Sunday is supper with my family over at Bax’s house.
” Which got me thinking. “Do you wanna come with?”
“To dinner? With your family?”
“Yeah,” I said. Having her support would make things less daunting. Her laugh comforted me and made me remember who I used to be.
“Thanks for the invite, Dixon,” she said. “But I think it’s probably best if you go on your own. It’s your first chance to start to get to know your son, and your family has missed you. They won’t want to share your attention with me.”
“Oh, yeah. I guess you’re right.” But damn, when I pictured showing up with her next to me, I envisioned good vibes and a successful dinner. And when I thought about showing up alone, my mind ran wild with the unknown.
“Raincheck?” she said, and I nodded once and closed my door.
“Good to meet you,” a tall man with a wonky accent said when I arrived at All Animals Veterinary Clinic the next morning.
We shook hands. “I’m Doc V and this is Dr. Masterson.” He motioned to the far side of the surgery prep room, where a woman wrestled with a young Dalmatian. The dog wiggled and fought, tossing his head this way and that, trying to get free from the leash she’d just managed to secure around his neck.
“Hi,” she called over her shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I hate to do this to you on your first day, but can you take this dog, please? I have surgery scheduled in five minutes, and I can’t get him calmed down.”
This was the exact reason I’d applied for the part-time job when I saw a notice about it on a bulletin board in the local coffee shop. The ad had called the position “Animal tech and wrangler.” I wasn’t sure about the tech part, but I had the wrangler part down pat.
“No worries.” I crossed the room and took the thin rope leash from her hand.
“Thank you,” she breathed, exasperated. “I’m Oly. I go by Dr. Masterson with the clients, but we’re pretty laid back behind the scenes.”
She seemed familiar to me. I probably went to school with her, but she was a few years older than me, and it wasn’t like my memory of those years was crystal sharp.
I nodded and stepped closer to the pup, my eyes on his and my posture relaxed but commanding. Raising my hand in the air, I gave him the non-verbal command to sit that I’d learned from the Coulters in California. The dog didn’t know the commands, but he recognized my firm direction, and he sat.
“Whoa. How’d you do that?” Dr. Masterson asked. “I’ve been tryin’ to get him to do that for thirty minutes!”
Doc V approached us with his hands on his hips. “I think Mr. Lee must be one of those, em, what do you call them… dog talkers?”
“It’s just Dixon,” I mumbled. Being called Mr. Lee, even though technically and legally it was my name, raised the hair on the nape of my neck.
“Dog whisperer,” Dr. Masterson said. “And yeah, I think you’re right.
Oh my God, I’m so glad you’re here. Okay, Luuk will walk you through what we need you to do.
I have one spay before Beanie’s surgery in an hour.
If you could have him calm and cool by then, I’d be in your debt, and I’ll buy you lunch. ”
“You don’t have to do that. I love dogs. It’s no problem, really.”
“No, no,” she said. “Lunch is on me. It’s your first day. It’s an All Animals tradition.”
“Come with me.” Doc V clapped me on the shoulder, then led Beanie and me through a door at the back of the room which opened up to long rows of various sized kennels.
“Our office manager isn’t here today. It’s her birthday, so she took the day off.
She’ll go over all of this with you next Saturday, but I’ll get you started. ”
“Thanks.”
“Where are you from? I know a few Lees; we go out to Spitfire Ranch to treat their cows and occasionally a lamb or a horse. You’re not one of those Lees, are you?”
“I am.”
“Oh, wonderful. So you know animals.”
“Yeah. I haven’t worked a ranch in a long time though.”
Doc V waved away my comment. “You never forget this stuff. I grew up on a dairy farm in the Netherlands, but I hadn’t been around cows for many years when I was going through vet school, but the information came ruching back at me when I needed it.”
“Rushing back at you?”
“Isn’t that what I said?”
I shook my head, trying not to laugh. The dude was a hoot.
He chuckled at his mistake. “Rush-ing. Got it.” He tapped his temple and smiled, and then he began to tell me the day’s schedule and what he would be needing from me.
On the off chance she might be up, I texted AJ late that night while I lay in bed not sleeping.
Did you know that some dogs are left-handed? Or I guess I should say left-pawed
Almost immediately, she texted back.
Tweedledee
I did not. How was your first day?
Good. I like the doctors. I didn’t meet my direct boss. Doc V said it’s her birthday today so she got the day off
Yes, that’s Yola. Manny’s wife? He ordered her a big bouquet to celebrate. Calla lilies are her faves. I dropped them off this morning
Sometimes I forget just how small this small town is
I love it. Can you imagine me delivering flowers in a big city? I’d never know who the recipient was, if they enjoyed their arrangement. Because Wisper is so small, I get to know my customers and learn which flowers will really make them smile and appreciate their bouquets
The thought of AJ mulling over which type of rose to put into a bouquet, which color, how many, made me smile. She had always been a giving person. She’d given me peace when we were kids, and that only seemed to have intensified now as adults.
No, I can’t imagine. But I bet your beautiful soul would shine no matter where you were
. . .
She began to reply; three little blinking dots appeared on my phone’s screen, but then they disappeared. A few seconds later the phone rang, and the blurry photo I’d taken of AJ yesterday appeared beneath “Tweedledee.”
I kept reminding myself to snap some photos of Stu tomorrow so I wouldn’t forget when I was at the ranch. Having a picture of my kid on my phone seemed like the most important thing in my world aside from actually talking to him, though, so I knew it wouldn’t slip my mind.
I answered her call with a jittery stomach and a smile I couldn’t quite quit. “Hi.”
“Hi,” she said, and the warm sound of her voice sent a shot of dopamine straight through me. “I know you’ve had a long day, but would you like to come over for tea again? I’d love to hear about the animals.”
“Can’t sleep?”
“Am I that obvious?”
“Be there in five.”