Page 1 of Until Now
Dominique
“I have no idea how Tinkerbell gained two pounds, Doctor Grant.”
Innocence drips off Brittney Baker’s pouty pink lips. Combined with the Tennessee accent, she tries selling the sugared words. Her denial is Oscar-worthy. The gaze appropriately clueless.The girl’s always “on.” I’ve never known someone to be so in love with their image.
Her selfie game is equal to none. I’ve seen her pose for the camera every single time she’s been here. In a weird way, I’ve come to enjoy the show. This could be the best performance in Ms. Baker’s budding community theater career. And it’s accompanied by a dazzling smile wholly wasted on me. Regardless, she offers it as a gift.
Silently, I call bullshit and try to remember what it was like to be in my early twenties. It isn’tthatfar back, but thirty-three seems a different animal. Life is much more evidence-based now. Cause and effect. Like Tinkerbell here.
No doubt, the pug regularly dines on steak and potatoes. Maybe a Cheeto or two. I’ve tried to impress upon her human how destructive this behavior is. Yep. Being the animal’s last line of defense in the war on obesity is my job. It continues.
“You would be surprised how much further she could walk.”
Obviously, I’ve already lost Brittney’s attention. Her eyes flit to the cell screen, and a grin breaks loose.
“This guy won’t leave me alone!” It’s said to the walls, I guess, because she’s not looking at me. Is this complaining or bragging? Thought she had a boyfriend.
Returning the phone to her purse, Brittney meets my gaze. “Maybe my boyfriend is sneak feeding her. I’ll speak to him.”
Sure. Throw the poor guy under the bus. Sounds like his replacement is already lined up. As I finish my notes, Tinkerbell is being redressed in her Fourth of July ensemble. Lord. It’s too tight. I get a side glance from his mama to see if I’m watching and judging.
When I became a veterinarian, it surprised me how many people like to dress their dogs. Not my choice or my terrier’s. McFly wouldn’t be caught dead inanywardrobe. I’d get a withering look if I tried.
When she’s placed on the floor, Tinkerbell gives a solid shake. It’s a valiant effort trying to loosen the collar that squeezes a fat packed neck.
“Your little friend might need to go up a size.”
I don’t wait for a reply but offer a sincere smile as I walk to the door.
“I’ll call you with the blood test results. Nice seeing you, Brittney. You too, baby,” I say, making eye contact with my patriotic patient, who strains at the leash.
As they exit the room and head for the front desk, I’m halfway to the office—just this one more appointment for the day. I’ll pick Bing up from guitar practice, then head for July’s house. Having someone else make dinner is appreciated after a long day.
“Carol, is my four thirty here?” I call to the front desk tech.
“He just came in,” she says, swiveling in her chair. Raised eyebrows dance up and down over the top of her purple glasses.
Carol’s an unreliable judge of men and their appeal. Not sure if it’s failing eyesight or bad taste. Last time she did the eyebrow dance, the man looked like a demented elf. None of the staff puts any weight on her idea of a hot guy. We’ve concluded she’s a horny woman with low standards when it comes to judging men’s appeal.
“Send him back to my office, please.”
The sound of the surgical suite doors opening behind me pulls my attention. My friend and colleague, Doctor Silver, exits, peeling gloves off.
“You headed out?” she says.
“I have a remains pickup. Kim Ripley’s brother. You heard about the accident, right?”
July’s expression softens. “Awful. I heard she’s going to make it, though, despite the injuries. Actually, Wes knew the brother. He’s a good …”
I don’t get to hear what the guy’s good at because the last of her comment fades as the door to the waiting room opens. Turning, I see the unexpected vision walking behind Carol. The atmosphere feels heavier. A six-foot-tall god is entering our air space.
Boom chicka boom. For once, Carol was correct in her conclusion. She wears a smug ‘I told you so’ grin on her face as they cross the aisle and enter my office. Ohhhhhh, Lordy, thank you for the glimpse of heaven. It was good to visit if just for a moment or two. I may have to rethink my opinion of Carol’s taste. But in the meantime, I close my dropped jaw.
July reaches out and places two fingers against my wrist. “Your pulse seems to be racing,” she chuckles.
My head shakes its response, but the smile gives me away. Why deny the obvious? The guy is hot. His jeans show off muscled thighs and a good ass. He has great arms and strong hands. The heavy shadow of a beard and the strand of thick, dark chocolate hair falling in his eyes put the cherry on the sundae. I saw all that in one head to toe sweep. That was thorough, even for me. Especially for me.
July explodes fingers at each temple. “Mind blown!”
