Page 101 of High Density

“How is everyone doing?”

“Fine,” Mom gives her standard chipper response. I don’t think she’d tell me if she were on fire. “Your father has joined a card club.”

“P-poker,” he corrects her.

“They play for bottle caps,” Mom whispers, as if Dad can’t hear her sitting right there.

I hear him make a snorting sound in the background.

“What about you, Mom? Anything new going on with you?”

“Not really. But tell us about you, how are things going at the clinic? Still busy?”

“Yes, I’m actually looking for extra help.”

“Didn’t you say you had an intern this summer?”

I forgot I’d mentioned Logan, but I’m not about to tell them what happened over the phone, I’d rather fill them in in person.

“Unfortunately, that didn’t work out. But I have some other news…”

“What is it?”

“I’m seeing someone.”

“Ohh. Did you hear that, Father? Our Janey met a man.”

Mom sounds positively gleeful. I know there’s nothing she’d love more than to see me happy. I haven’t really had any serious relationships worth mentioning, but things with JD feel different. For one, I love him, which is something I want to share with my parents.

Mom asks his name and how we met. Predictably, Dad asks what he does for a living. I field their questions as best I can, and promise to bring him up for a visit soon, making a mental note to check with JD when in the next week or two would work for him.

We say our goodbyes as I pull up to the clinic.

“And?” Frankie asks when I walk in.

“Healthy baby boy. Samuel David Sullivan Blakely.”

“What’s with all the names?”

“I think they picked Samuel, but David is Dan’s father’s name, and Sullivan is for Sloane’s uncle Sully.”

I bend down to scratch Ginger’s head and glance at the stack of pink messages on the corner of Frankie’s desk.

“Anything urgent?”

“Not really. I told John Findley you’d be by to do the vaccinations tomorrow morning instead. He was fine with that. The messages can wait for morning as well.”

“Good. I’ll be in the barn unloading the truck for the next ten minutes, and then I’m heading home. Oh, did we get any nibbles on the ad?”

“We got a number. I’ll print out the résumés and leave them on your desk.”

“Why don’t you go over them?” I ask her. “Call the ones you like for a short telephone interview, select your top choices, and schedule them for an interview with me.”

If I’m going to have any chance on a life outside of work, I’m going to have to delegate some of the duties.

JD’s truckis already parked in front of my house by the time I get there.

I’m not surprised. Except when work calls either one of us away, there hasn’t been a night we’ve spent apart this past month. Most of those nights were spent here, and some of JD’s clothes and things have slowly made their way into my closet and bathroom.

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