From the Hat Down, page 29
She stared at him.
“I know you prefer to be in the thick of it, but I’d like to have a few students out now and again to spend the day with us. Mark and Randy like the idea, too. We’d put you in charge of the tours.”
“You’re serious.”
“I get that way sometimes.” His eyes seemed to twinkle.
“Well, okay. Let’s think about it and figure out how we could make that happen. Maybe take a student on rounds now and again.”
He nodded and pushed off from the wall. “I was thinking that, too. Point is, we want more locals to get their training and come back to communities like this or even smaller in the state that need vets. So give ’em a taste of what that might entail. The ones who are meant to come back, they’ll catch on. The ones that aren’t, well, they’ll at least get a taste.”
“Yeah. I like that.”
“We’ll start talking it over when you get back.”
“Sure.”
He leaned back against the wall again. “So this trip wouldn’t have anything to do with roses, would it?” And the sides of his mouth twitched with a smile.
“Uh. . . ”
He grinned. “Good. Somebody sends you roses like that, seems to me you ought to take notice. I once flew a redeye from San Diego to Miami for a woman. I just had to see her. Couldn’t explain it. Left San Diego at three in the morning and got to Miami around noon or some godawful thing like that. About delirious with exhaustion. She didn’t know I was coming. I showed up at her office.”
“I hope she was glad to see you.”
He nodded. “She was.”
Meg looked at him expectantly and the expression in his eyes made her think about Gina.
“Hell, she married me.”
Meg smiled, surprised. “That’s a great story.”
“It’s been a great run. She followed me back to San Diego and then to Texas A and M for vet school. And she came back to Wyoming with me.” He shook his head in wonder. “She must like me.”
“I’d say maybe a little,” Meg said, holding her thumb and index finger up in a measurement that marked about half an inch.
He smiled a little wider. “So. Roses. She know you’re comin’?”
She stared at him. She hadn’t mentioned who had sent the roses to her.
“I hear things,” he said with a shrug.
“Apparently so.”
“Good news travels fast here.”
She laughed. “Yeah. She does know.”
He nodded. “I know the feeling. Just have to see her. Can’t explain it. But you know it’s the right thing to do. You’re doing it smarter than I did, that’s for sure. Leaving at a reasonable hour.” He pushed off from the wall, this time with purpose. “Have a great trip. And Cynthia and I expect invites to the wedding.” He winked at her and Meg nodded, too flustered to deflect the comment.
He left and she stared after him. She’d been fairly open about things when she came on board but she never really talked much about her personal life. The clinic staff had met Kate and nobody seemed to have an issue with it. She’d never felt ostracized or condemned because she was a lesbian. Hell, she’d met plenty of lesbians in vet school. She’d wondered about Sean when they first met and Sean admitted she’d had “experiences” with women but she just preferred men. There wasn’t a shortage of lesbians in the field, Meg thought. But she’d expected maybe a harder run of it with coworkers than she’d actually gotten. She was grateful that wasn’t the case, but it surprised her sometimes when she got reactions like Roy’s. Especially in places like Laramie. Things had changed since she’d come out. At least a little.
“Hey, Doc T,” Haley said as she hung her backpack on one of the pegs in the hall outside Meg’s office. “Just got in. What all does Moonshine need me to bring home with him?”
Meg smiled and stood. Moonshine was up again, practically wiggling with joy as he trotted over to Haley, who crouched down to pet him. “Hey, Moonie,” she said.
“I can see he’ll have a terrible time,” Meg joked. “Anyway, his bag is right here on the file cabinet. His food’s in the plastic container with the amount taped to the side. I put the measuring cup in it, along with his food and water bowls. It’s okay to give him a little hamburger or something with his dinner if you and Beth are having that, but I try not to give him people food very often because he needs to keep his girlish figure to help keep strain off his back end. He can have a treat before bedtime, and I put those in his bag, too.”
“Does he have any toys in there?”
“He’s never really been into those, but he does like those processed pieces of antler to chew on now and again, and I put one in there that he’s been working on.” She watched him as he flopped onto the floor and rolled over so Haley could pet his stomach.
“Slut,” Meg said, and Haley laughed. “He’ll want to get up on your furniture,” Meg continued. “If you don’t want him on it, put his bed next to it so he knows to go there instead. If you’re okay with him on the furniture, well, he’ll probably never come home.”
“Sure he will. He just knows he’s going on vacation at my house.”
“His medicine’s in there, too. Let me show you how it works.” Meg took the box out of his bag that held the bottle of Metacam. “It comes with a plastic syringe—no needle—that you use to draw a certain dosage out. See the numbers on the syringe here?” She handed it to Haley so she could examine it.
She nodded and turned the syringe over in her hand.
“Moonshine weighs forty pounds. So you’ll draw out the Metacam in the syringe to the line marked with the number forty, and then you’ll shoot it into his mouth. Give him a treat right after that as a chaser. He gets the Metacam in the morning, and it’s good for twenty-four hours. Give him one Tramadol every twelve hours. I printed out a sheet of instructions for him and put it in his bag, too.”
“How far can he walk?” Haley asked as she handed the syringe back to Meg.
“About a mile, maybe a little more. I walk him almost every day, and his leash is in his bag. You’ll know if he’s having some discomfort because he’ll slow down and put his head down. He also likes to have a job to do, so if you’re outside with him, make him think he’s on watch. Or have him herd Beth or something.”
Haley smiled. “We had a couple of cattle dogs at the ranch.”
“Then you already know how weird they are. If anything comes up, or he’s acting weirder than usual, bring him here for Roy to check over. Have Ginny invoice me for anything and I’ll take care of it when I get back.”
Haley stood and Moonshine moved so he could put his chin on her boot and sigh contentedly. “He’ll be fine, Doc. But feel free to check in.” She smiled.
“I know he will. Is a check okay? Or is cash better?” Meg moved to her bag on the edge of her desk.
“Check’s fine.”
“All right. Hold on and let me get that for you.” She took her checkbook out of her bag, wrote up the check, and handed it to Haley. “Thanks again. Call if you need anything.”
“No problem,” she said as she took the check and folded it in half before putting it in her back pocket. “I hope you have a great time.” Nothing in her tone suggested she knew why Meg was going to California, but the hint of a smile tugged at the side of her mouth.
“Yep. All right. Let’s get a couple hours of work done before I leave you to Roy, Mark, and Randy. And they’re not nearly as cool as I am, so you’d better really enjoy these two hours.”
Haley laughed and gently extricated her foot from under Moonshine’s chin. “Will do, Doc.” She left, and Meg crouched down to give Moonshine a few pats.
“You’ll be in good hands pal,” she said.
He grunted a soft response and she straightened and went into the corridor, closing her office door behind her to ensure Moonshine would stay out of the way of office operations, though she knew the techs would give him some attention and take him outside. Even Ginny would visit with him when he was spending the day at the clinic. Moonshine was definitely not something she needed to worry about while she was away. Which was good, because she was already stressed about this trip, in both good and bad ways. She’d decided to cancel the rental car, but now she was second-guessing herself. What if it was just too weird, seeing Gina? And what if there was no connection in person? And what if Gina decided it was a mistake, trying to reconnect?
She stopped herself. It was too late to backtrack, too late to change her mind. She was going to take this chance, and if it wasn’t meant to be, then that would be that, and they’d both chalk it up to experience.
As much as it would hurt.
And Meg knew it would hurt.
Maybe worse than the first time they’d said goodbye.
She took a couple of deep breaths and thought about the message from Gina she’d been reading over and over all morning. There was no uncertainty in it, no doubt about this visit.
“Doc?”
Meg looked over at Haley.
“Nicole says exam room one.” She handed her a file.
“Yeah. Let’s go.” Focus, she told herself as she opened the folder. And Sean would tell her to stop dwelling on “what ifs” when the “what” hadn’t even happened. She relaxed and smiled at Haley. “Standard yearly physical, five-year-old male lab. What are some of the things I’m going to check?”
“Eyes, teeth, ears, and, in this breed, hips.”
“Why would I check the hips?”
“A tendency toward dysplasia. Labs are big dogs, and big dogs should be checked for dysplasia, though that’s common in labs anyway.”
“Very good, future Doctor Haley. Somebody’s been studying. Or listening to all the vet rambling that goes on around here.” She pressed the handle on the exam room door. “Let’s see what we can see.”
Two hours went faster than she’d thought they could, and her last appointment went a little over, so at one-fifteen Meg was speeding east on I-80 headed for southbound I-25. She had brought her backpack with her and unfortunately couldn’t shower before she got on the road. Oh, well. This was her, this was her life, and she was determined that Gina should see this side of her. Meg fumbled in her glove box for the radar detector she kept stashed in it. She rarely used it, since she was rarely speeding, but this was a special circumstance.
She plugged it into her cigarette lighter and stuck it onto the Velcro patch on the dashboard. The detector itself fit in the palm of her hand. She had affixed a strip of Velcro to it, as well. With the detector in place, she sped up and merged onto southbound I-25, plains on her left, the distant Rockies on her right.
By three she was closing in on Denver and she slowed as she started picking up the fringes of rush-hour traffic. She put the detector back in her glove box and turned her music off so she could listen to local radio, maybe pick up road reports. She exited onto the E-470 toll road toward Denver International Airport. Her flight was scheduled to leave at five, so she was still okay unless traffic got worse. She chewed her lip, silently chanting, “Please no slow-downs, please no slow-downs, please no slow-downs.”
Around three-thirty she parked her truck in the structure designated for long-term use at DIA. She slung her backpack over her shoulder and locked up. In another few hours she’d be in the same room as Gina. She put her driver’s license in her shirt pocket and her wallet and phone into her backpack for the security checkpoint. She had worn a blue-and-white plaid western-cut shirt with pearl snaps and short sleeves, one of her favorites. She snapped the pocket shut to make sure she didn’t lose her ID.
While standing in the security line she took her belt off and removed all the change in her pocket along with her keys and put them in her backpack. She unlaced her ropers and pulled them off, glad she’d thought to pack her sneakers. Once through security she made it to the gate with a few minutes to spare and she texted Gina to let her know she was boarding and about to turn her phone off. She added “See you soon” and a smiley emoticon. Sean had also texted, “Have fun!” Meg smiled, hoping that was the case.
Ten minutes later she stowed her pack in an overhead bin and settled into her aisle seat, nodding at the middle-aged woman in the middle and the man who seemed to be her husband in the window seat. Meg had brought the latest issue of Veterinary Medicine to read but she had a feeling it was a lost cause. She did have her iPod ready but she had to wait until the flight crew gave the okay to turn it on.
Instead, she watched as the flight filled, thinking about Gina. Thinking about how it would feel to see her. And hold her. Meg’s heart sped up again and she wiped her palms on her jeans and wished she could have gotten a shower. A few minutes later, the jet was in position for takeoff and she felt the engines torque, felt the machinery vibrate and they gathered speed until they were airborne. Meg opened the journal and checked the table of contents for people she knew. Five minutes later she closed it and leaned back. She put her earbuds in and turned on her iPod then shut her eyes and allowed images of Gina to take over her thoughts.
Chapter 28
Meg’s heart pounded as she stood to retrieve her backpack from the overhead compartment. She placed it on her seat next to her satchel and remained standing. Nervousness roiled her stomach, and she forced herself to take a deep breath. She took her phone off her belt and turned it on then texted Gina, “Just landed. Term. 1.” She leaned against her seat, fighting an urge to bolt down the aisle, shoving her fellow passengers aside. The woman and man in her row had remained seated and they chatted quietly. Her phone chimed with a text message. “Excellent! Go to baggage claim. Stay by escalators. I’ll find you.”
Meg texted an affirmative and tried to relax. Which was impossible. The rows just in front of her were exiting. She slid her phone into her back pocket, gripped her satchel and backpack, and started down the aisle, trying to focus on just getting off the plane without passing out. Get a grip, she told herself. But she kept thinking about the first time she saw Gina, and the first week she had spent at the ranch working on a story, and how each new day around her made Meg ache a little more.
She slung her backpack over her shoulder as soon as she was off the plane and followed the other passengers up the jetway into the main terminal, where she paused to get her bearings. She’d flown into LAX several times over the years, but it seemed to have grown each time she did, until it was like coming off a plane into a miniature city. A sleek, glassed-in miniature city, with views of the Jetson-esque “Theme Building” from all of the terminals. The structure looked like a flying saucer encircled by orbit tracks and it housed a restaurant but Meg wasn’t sure it was open, since it was under renovation. The windows near her arrival gate faced it, and Meg looked at it for a few moments. She’d always liked it and its “retro-future” flavor. She remembered the first time she’d seen it, which made her think of the first time she’d flown into LAX, ten years ago. Gina had picked her up then, too.
She turned away from the window, a strange little time warp hitching onto her heart, and adjusted her backpack. She left the gate area, trying to keep clear of the streams of people that hurried past her, some travelers casting annoyed glanced at those who had stopped for whatever reasons. Several different announcements from several different gates bombarded her ears and she ducked into a bathroom, which was almost as crowded. Afterward, she followed the signs to the baggage claim area and by the time she got to the escalators to go to the lower level, she had managed to achieve a level of partial calm. Whatever was going to happen was going to happen, she’d almost convinced herself.
But by the time she got off the escalator, the calm had disappeared, replaced by excitement and anxiety. She checked her phone to make sure she hadn’t missed any messages then scanned the area, but didn’t see Gina. No surprise, given all the people moving past her or standing in compact groups waiting for their baggage on nearby carousels or talking on phones or texting. She’d wait a few minutes, then text her again. She picked a pillar near the escalator and set her pack and satchel on the floor near her feet and wiped her palms on her jeans again. For the next ten minutes she alternated between obsessively checking her phone for messages and scanning the vicinity.
Another five minutes passed and Meg took one more look around before starting another text.
And then she stopped everything.
And could only stare.
Could only watch as a woman walked toward her, wearing cargo shorts, a loose red tee, and a smile Meg knew only too well, would know anywhere, no matter how many years had passed.
Gina stopped, too, about ten feet away, and held Meg’s gaze, held it like the first time Meg had fallen into it outside Saratoga Feed a decade ago, a decade that felt like yesterday.
Meg’s voice was trapped in her chest, and she was unable to make a sound, unable to move, a million different emotions crashing through her heart, a million different memories flooding through her head, years melting in the dark warmth of Gina’s eyes. And she was twenty-five again, falling for Gina like a hard summer rain, like night over the Medicine Bows or a promise of spring in a late winter thaw. And she was thirty again, putting a Hawaiian shirt on over her tee in that restaurant in Fort Collins, imagining it was Gina wrapping her arms around her. And then she was thirty-five, just a few weeks ago, watching Gina’s video, watching her tell Meg that it was time now, time to fall again like a summer rain and a mountain night, time to usher in a thaw after a long, hard winter. Time to close the circle.
“Hey, Cowgirl.” Gina broke their tableau and approached, her smile now a grin, echoed in her eyes. She stopped a foot away, maybe a little uncertain about what to do next.
