Page 87 of Spindrift

“Theposition could be half and half.”

“I. . . I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

“Ohyeah.” Lillian grimaced. “I’m sorry. I’m still in doctor mode. Are you worriedabout Morgan?”

“It’scomplicated.” The desire to confide in Lillian nearly overpowered her, and sheknelt down to greet the tortoise to buy time to collect herself. Anything shesaid to Lillian might make its way back to Morgan. Then again, it wasn’t likeshe had any good friends left, and her family was likely to overreact. “I don’twant to put you in a difficult position.”

“I’mnot going to tell Morgan what you say here, unless you’re planning on hurtingher intentionally.”

“I’mnot. At least, I hope I’m not.”

“Fairenough.”

“Idon’t even know if I want to stay in the field. If I took a job at yourhospital, assuming I was even offered one, I’d always wonder if I did it forthe right reasons. I got into shelter medicine because of my ex.”

“Andyou want to make sure you’re choosing for you, not someone else.”

“Notto mention what would happen if things didn’t work out.”

“Alsofair. Morgan and I had a policy in vet school when it came to dating: careerfirst.” Lillian pulled a dead leaf off a hanging vine and crushed it. “Not thatit worked out particularly well for either of us.”

“Well,I can’t recommend following your heart.”

“Tono good options.” Lillian raised an imaginary toast. “Speaking of Morgan, areyou sticking around till she gets home?”

“Idon’t want to intrude.”

“Youwon’t. Here, leave your plants for now and help me harvest something fordinner.”

Angiejoined them in the kitchen later on, dressed in a tank top, sweatpants, and anoticeable lack of bra. “I still smell like diarrhea, no matter how many timesI’ve showered,” she said, wrinkling her nose.

“Willall great Neptune’s ocean wash this poop clean from my hands?” Lillian asked.Emilia thought she might be quoting Shakespeare but wasn’t positive.

“Whatcan my royal poopiness assist you with?”

“Wantto grate some carrots?”

“Give’em here.” Angie held out her hands, and beneath the scratches Emiliarecognized as signs of overenthusiastic dog play she noticed bruising aroundher wrists. Lillian had to have seen them, too, but she didn’t comment, and soEmilia didn’t either.

“I’msorry I missed meeting your sister,” Angie said.

“Countyourself lucky. Do you have siblings?”

“Yeah.Morgan is the only only child under this roof. Did you find the banana bread Ileft for you in the fridge, by the way?” Angie asked around a mouthful oftomato.

Lillianset down her knife and opened the refrigerator, pulling out a large containerlabeled “bean sprouts.” “You’re the best. Want a slice, Emilia?”

“Butyou have to keep it a secret,” said Angie.

“Morganand Stevie don’t respect labels,” Lillian explained, “so we’ve resorted tosubterfuge. Neither would ever look in this.”

“Sometimeswe put a layer of sprouts on top just to keep up appearances.”

“Morgandid mention she has a cheese problem,” said Emilia.

“It’snot a problem. It’s a pattern of criminal behavior.” Angie scowled. “I stillhaven’t forgiven her for eating an entire wedge of my good brie.”

“Andlet’s not forget the case of the missing mozzarella,” said Lillian.

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