Page 39 of Healing You
I t had been a few days since Steve had seen Yvonne. Several torturous days. And it wasn't for lack of trying on either of their parts. She swung by his practice on her lunch break yesterday— which he discovered hours later because he was in surgery, removing an obstruction from a German Shepherd's stomach. He had tried to stop by her place after work, only to find that she wasn't home (and later learn that she'd been called to one of her kitten foster homes when they thought it had run away). As it had turned out, the kitten had fallen asleep inside their linen closet. And to make matters worse, he had recommended skipping Gatsby's treatment that week to let him fully heal from the previous week's treatment.
Steve was finishing up at the Wilson farm, checking on the calf he delivered a few weeks earlier, when his phone rang. His gloved hands were covered in animal hair and God knew what else. He looked to Amanda, who had tagged along in an effort to see if large animal veterinary visits were something she wanted to specialize in. Judging from the way her face scrunched and she covered her nose, he thought it was a safe guess that no, she wouldn't be joining the large animal vet club any time soon.
“Could you grab that for me?” he asked her, nodding toward his back pocket.
She dropped a hand to her hip playfully and sucked the inside of her cheek. “You're kidding?”
Steve rolled his eyes. “I just performed a rectal exam on a baby cow... come on. Do me a solid?”
“Solid may be a poor choice in words.” She smirked and reached her hand into his back pocket. “You don't pay me enough for this shit,” she said, grabbing his phone and looking at the screen. “It's Yvonne.”
“Oh, great. Could you—”
Before he could finish his question, Amanda answered the call and had the phone pressed to her own ear. “Hey, Yvonne! No, it's Amanda. Nah, your man is elbows deep inside a cow right now.”
Steve cringed. He wasn't shy about his profession at all and yet hearing it presented that way to Eve? Yeah, it wasn't exactly the mental picture he wanted to give her. Steve snapped the gloves off, washing his hands at the water pump outside of the stables. He dried them on his pants and held out a palm to Amanda. “Give me that phone.” He softened the order with a smile.
Not that he needed to. Amanda could hold her own and didn't take shit—especially from him. Something he really loved about her. He didn't know how he would survive when she graduated veterinary school. Maybe there was a way he could rework the books and bring her in as a doctor... but even with that, he wouldn't be able to afford to pay her the standard starting salary a vet usually makes.
She grinned, her teeth whiter than an Orbits commercial. “Sorry, Yvonne. Some guy is being super pushy right now. Yeah, I should file a harassment suit. He made me touch his butt—”
With that, he yanked the phone from her grasp. “Do not believe anything that girl tells you,” he laughed.
“I don't know,” Yvonne trilled from the other end of the line. “Sounds like you've had a more eventful day than me. Fingering cows, harassing employees...”
He pulled the phone from his mouth and looked to Amanda who watched on, grinning. “You're so fired.”
“Oh, please,” she rolled her eyes. “You know as well as I do that you couldn't run this place without me.” With that, she skipped back to where they were parked, calling from over her shoulder. “I'll be waiting for you in the car!”
“So,” he said, directing his attention back to Yvonne.
“So,” she responded. There was a moment's pause and the quiet messed with his head in ways he didn't want to admit. He inspected his tie and sighed. He loved dressing up for work. As a boy, he always knew he wanted a job where he looked presentable. He bent, brushing the dirt from the navy pinstripes with a sigh. And yet, maybe he should really revisit his unspoken “button down shirt” rule. With the amount of vomit and blood and all kinds of other shit he dealt with on a daily basis, it probably wasn't the smartest dress code.
“Is it ridiculous to admit that I miss you?” he finally asked. “I'm clearly crazy, obviously. Because only a crazy person would say something like that after less than a week of being apart. Even still... go ahead and commit me because it's true.” Ah, shit. Now he was blabbering.
“Well, I guess we're a match made in Bedlam. Because I kinda miss you, too.”
The relief left him swiftly in a sharp exhale that he hoped to God she didn't hear. “Wanna do dinner?”
“I'd love to—but...”
Steve groaned at that.
“No, seriously,” she continued. “I'd love to. I just have to run to Elsa's. I promised Lila that I'd take a look at the dog she's fostering and give her some training pointers. She's having trouble adjusting.”
“It's a date,” he said. “Or... something.”
“It's a something.” Even though he couldn't see her, he could hear her smile.
Later that afternoon, Steve arrived at Elsa's to find a frazzled Lila tethered to a puggle who was pulling on his leash, barking wildly at something in the tree. “Benny, no! No! Bad dog, stop that!”
Steve moved beside her as she gave him an exasperated expression. Worry lines pinched across her forehead and bags under her eyes alluded to a few sleepless nights. “I don't know that I can do this. He's so difficult!”
Pulling a treat and his phone from his pocket, he opened the “clicker” app he kept on there for problem clients and pressed the button. The phone made a loud noise, reminiscent to a training clicker. Benny immediately quieted down, his gaze jerking curiously to Steve—or more accurately, to the sound his phone made. The dog's head tilted, ears up and Steve clicked one more time, giving the dog a treat. “Good boy,” he said, leaning down and scratching behind his ears.
Lila's wet eyes widened. “How did you do that?”
“It's a free training app—but the pet stores have actual clickers which might be easier for you. Click—then treat. Even if he's only quiet for a second. You want to reward him for looking at you. Then work your way up from there.” Almost on cue, Benny lost interest in their conversation and turned his attention back to the squirrel. Steve clicked one more time, giving Benny another treat when the dog looked back at them. “It'll be a lot of back and forth, but he'll begin to associate the sound of the clicker and treats to the positive reinforcement.”
