Page 60 of A Much Younger Man
“No, nothing like that. I was up most of the night.”Let’s see how expressionless you can stay now, brat.
“Oh, shoot.” Travis’s concern for me grew. “For what it’s worth, my mom says melatonin is a miracle.”
I smiled at both of them. “Good idea.”
April assisted me in the removal of Duke’s benign tumor. He was going to be far more comfortable with it gone. Things went well, and he was able to go home with Mrs. King right away.
Fridays were half days. We accepted clients until two, and then spent the rest of the day cleaning, doing paperwork, and reviewing how the week went. I didn’t anticipate anything difficult until a very sad tricycle versus cat collision required me to set fractures on both of the cat’s hind legs late in the afternoon.
The cat in question had been terrified and uncooperative, and the tension was made worse by the inconsolable crying of both its owner and her little boy, Georgie, who’d accidentally run him over.
“You know,” I told Georgie, “accidents happen to people and animals. They’re called accidents because they’re nobody’s fault. Stripes knows you didn’t mean to hurt him.”
My words didn’t seem to help. Probably nothing would until Stripes was back on four paws again. Georgie’s mom and I talked things over, and we decided I should keep the cat overnight, but it was hard for them to leave without him.
“That was a tough one.” Travis turned the sign toClosed. I shut the blinds. We both breathed a sigh of relief.
“Kids kill me.” Stretching the knots out of my neck, I dragged off my lab coat. “I hope Stripes pulls through. He’s a senior. He might not have been able to get out of the way fast enough because of it.”
“He still has a few good years left in him.”
“Let’s hope so.” I hadn’t liked the amount of time it took him to come out of the anesthesia.
For Georgie’s sake, I truly hoped for a good outcome.
Lena grabbed her purse and was ready to leave just as another call came in. She answered but held up a finger so I wouldn’t leave. “Call for you Doc, line one. Your mom.”
“I’ll take it in my office. Have a good night.” I sat at my desk as I answered, “Hi, Mom. Everything okay?”
“Of course, dear. Why?”
“How come you called me on the work line?”
“I left a message on your cell, but you never called back.”
I checked my phone, and sure enough, I’d failed to turn it back on. “I was in surgery and left it off. Sorry. I’d have found your call eventually, you know.”
“I know. I just didn’t want to miss you before you left. How are you?”
My mom could be so weird. “Just fine. How are you doing?”
“Excellent. It’s horribly hot here, though. The jet stream seems to be all wibbly wobbly these days. And before you blame my generation—”
“How’s Dad?” When it came to climate change, it was better not to let her get wound up.
“He’s doing very well. The good news is his doctor took him off the metformin. He doesn’t need it anymore.”
“That is great news.”
“Apparently he’s lost enough weight, and the exercise regimen is helping. His blood sugar has been very stable.”
“Remind him that those two things are now his daily medicine, will you? If he stops doing them, he’ll be right back in the same boat.”
“I do. I’m quite the harpy these days. You wouldn’t recognize me.”
I wisely didn’t agree with that. “Something up? I was planning on calling tomorrow morning like usual.”
Though our Saturday ritual had started for my mother’s peace of mind when I was in college, lately it had been more for mine. My parents weren’t getting any younger. They would never ask for anything, even if their need was great. The calls were a little subterfuge where I listened to what they said and what they omitted, hoping to discover anything I really needed to know.
