From the Hat Down, page 5
No real knick-knacks or pictures or art anywhere. Kate took that with her, since it was all hers. Jesus, Meg thought, shaking her head. She did still live like some transient student. Well, all in good time. She had her eye on buying a practice in Saratoga, which would put her twenty miles north of the ranch, back in her old stomping grounds. She needed capital and a plan and though she did okay with business ideas, her dad was better. She’d talk to him about it this weekend. He’d be excited. She stretched and glanced at her watch. Hell, she was excited, though it was a few years down the road.
Determined to sleep in the bedroom tonight, she shut the music off and got ready for bed. Twenty minutes later she slid between her sheets and shut the bedside lamp off. She lay on her back in the dark, her fingers interlaced behind her head, thinking about Sean’s story and then about the trip to Utah she and Gina took the summer before Meg started vet school, before Gina took a job with the overseas bureau for the Los Angeles Times.
It still hurt to think about what happened eight years ago. Gina got the job offer and Meg knew how important it was to her. Gina was willing to do long-distance, too, but Meg figured it was just a matter of time before Gina got tired of her, the backwoods cowgirl. She clenched her teeth together, and tried again, for the umpteenth time, to justify her decision. She’d done Gina a favor, she told herself over and over. But every time she did, she wasn’t sure she believed it, even after all these years.
Meg stared into the dark, a lump in her throat. Long, agonizing phone calls and two more visits later, they both let go. It was the hardest thing Meg had ever done and she saw it reflected in Gina’s eyes, saw how the decision cut right through her, and impaled them both.
She rolled over onto her side, chest tightening with sadness from the memories. Gina had needed to fly, and she’d set her free, though Meg hadn’t really let go. At least not for a while. She didn’t even start dating for nearly two years after they’d broken up. By then, though, the emails and letters with Gina were fewer and farther between, like the miles that separated them and finally, like the years that did, too.
She turned onto her other side so she could look out the window, open to the night. She hadn’t heard from Gina in a while, though she expected a birthday card, a tradition that had its roots in the first time they’d met, when Gina had been doing a story on the Diamond Rock Ranch for the Times, though Meg didn’t know that was Gina’s role when she met her.
Love at first sight, Meg thought wryly as she watched the curtain flutter a bit in a passing breeze. She knew what that felt like, and she hadn’t felt it since. Not like that. Not even close. She remembered that day in Saratoga, like it had happened yesterday, like she was twenty-five again, buying supplies for the ranch at the feed store. Gina was changing a flat on her Pathfinder in the parking lot and Meg went to help, since that was the neighborly thing to do, and Gina looked up at her and that was it. Her first look at Gina’s eyes knocked her for a loop, would’ve knocked her clean off a horse if she’d been on one.
She remembered that meeting with undiminished clarity, remembered the way Gina had one knee in the dirt of the parking lot as she worked on her tire, recalled the tee whose sleeves she’d rolled up in the sun. Meg closed her eyes, seeing Gina’s eyes and the warm, slow smile that lit up her face. She could almost feel Gina’s hand in hers when she introduced herself, could almost hear the quiet, rich tones of her voice.
Funny, too, because she didn’t realize Gina was the reporter the Times had sent until that Friday. She’d spent most of the time since meeting Gina trying to figure out how to track her down. She had thought maybe Gina worked for the Forest Service or the Bureau of Land Management and she’d be in town for the summer. She smiled at that memory, at how she tried to figure out where to find Gina, when she didn’t even know her last name. And then that Friday evening Gina showed up at the ranch, and that’s when Meg found out she was the reporter the Times had sent.
God, she fell for her. Hard. And Gina loved her just as much. Meg never doubted that. Even when Gina asked her just before they called it quits why Meg wouldn’t let her in, why she held her just beyond the threshold, Meg knew that Gina loved her, knew that she loved Gina back.
What the hell was wrong with her, that she’d pushed Gina away?
She stared into the dark for what might have been a few minutes or a few hours. Gina had been right, back then. And so was Sean, now. A strange echo filled her chest, reverberating like the memories that filled her head, leaving her both comforted and unsettled. She didn’t remember falling asleep.
Chapter 3
“So have you given any more thought to interns?” Ginny asked, attention again focused on her screen.
Meg looked up from the file. Ginny returned her gaze like a teacher expecting a correct answer. “Um,” Meg said, stalling.
Sandra giggled. “Good thing you have us on staff here,” she said before she got up and headed to the back.
“True. I need at least the two of you to keep me organized,” Meg said after her. “Actually, why not call Anna? Bring her in on her day off. I need all the help I can get.” She pretended to be hurt.
Ginny smiled. “I’ll take that as an ‘I forgot’ response.”
“I’m sorry. Tell me again.”
“Roy was talking about it the other day with Mike Fenwell. Mike’s son is a wildlife biology student here and Mike wanted to know if Roy could set Tyler up with a vet who does that kind of medicine.”
Sandra reappeared and the phone rang. She brushed past them. “’Scuse me, ladies,” she said in a little sing-song tone as she reached for the phone. She’d painted her nails bright red, and her blouse actually matched that shade. Sandra favored Wranglers and roper boots at work. Meg was sure she had different colored boots for every day of the week.
“It’s coming back to me, now,” Meg said.
“So I just got to thinking that might be a good thing for us to do here,” Ginny continued. “Maybe get some students interested in coming back to Laramie after getting their vet degrees. God knows, there’s a shortage of vets. Especially out here.”
“You’re just full of good ideas. I’ll make some calls to the university, see what we can come up with to help some students get credit toward their bachelors’ degrees. I’ll talk to the guys, too. See what they think.” Roy and Mark would be okay with it. Randy probably would, too, and since he worked a lot of nights, he’d want the intern to do a night with him and the night-duty tech.
Ginny cleared her throat. “I already did.”
Meg raised her eyebrows just as Sandra hung up.
“They like the idea, but all of them think you’d be a better contact person. Roy said you’re more outgoing and the ‘youngsters,’ as he put it, seem to take to you better.”
Sandra laughed and Meg shot her a look.
“What?” Sandra asked. “It’s true. Though the old men like you, too.” She brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. It had gotten loose from the scrunchie she’d worn.
“Fat lot of good that does me,” Meg said.
Sandra laughed and looked up as an older woman came in carrying a Yorkie. “Hi, Mrs. Thompson. Doctor Atkins will be right with you.”
“Hi, Mrs. Thompson,” Meg said. “How’s Perry feeling these days?” She indicated the dog, who was probably as old as his caretaker in doggie years. She’d been Roy’s patient for years.
“Oh, as fine as he could be. He’s just here for his check-up.”
“Good to hear.”
Sandra escorted her and Perry to an examination room and Meg handed the file she’d been perusing back to Ginny. “Summer session starts around the sixteenth, doesn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“That’s a little soon. Maybe we’ll have to wait until fall semester.”
“I’ll make some calls,” Ginny said in a way that indicated she’d have a room full of potential students lined up in mere hours if need be.
Sandra returned to the desk just as the phone rang again. She answered.
“Okay,” Meg said. “I like it. Just get me the paperwork and some possible candidates. Are Mark and Randy okay with it if Roy and I pick one to start?”
Ginny gave her a nod and turned to help the woman who had just stepped in with a cat carrier.
“Hey, Meg,” Sandra said. “Jim Halstead needs to bring his dogs in for vaccinations and he’s in town right now. Is it okay for him to bring them by in about ten minutes?”
“Yeah. The annuals?”
She nodded.
“Just come and get me.” She handed a file to her. “And could you please re-file that? Thanks.”
Sandra nodded at her as she talked on the phone and Meg retreated to the back, where Kelly was checking on a couple of cats in stainless steel kennels recuperating from surgery. Michelle, one of the other techs, hurried by on her way to Roy’s appointment while Nicole was busy at a counter with a prescription.
“How do they look?” Meg asked, motioning at the cats.
“Fine. A little groggy.”
“If anything changes and you’re not sure about it, let me or Roy know.”
“Yes, ma’am,” she said, and her tone carried the weight of extra responsibility.
Meg smiled, thinking that she must be of that age, when everybody under thirty called her “ma’am.” That made her think of her birthday. She went into her office and texted Sean to let her know that she’d cleared her appointments for Friday afternoon. She set her phone down, glad that Brady would come in to cover for her. He was mostly retired, now, but he still liked to come in when he could.
“Oh, hey, Kelly?” She called from the doorway of her office.
“Yeah?”
“Jim Halstead’s coming in with his three dogs for their annual shots. Can you get those vaccinations ready for me? He’ll be here in about ten minutes.”
“Got it, Doc.”
“Thanks.” She sat down and checked her email. There was one from her mom and she braced herself before she opened it. She was glad she did. She’d sent her flight itinerary and, at the bottom, a link Meg recognized to an ex-gay ministry. “Are you fucking kidding me?” She debated replying with a “I’m returning this link to you, since I don’t need it” message but instead sat back, tamping her initial frustration down. And then she chuckled. As if an ex-gay program could cure her in a couple of weeks. Or ever. It wasn’t the first time Irene had sent her hints like that, but it was one of the more obvious. Trying to pave the way for Phil, she thought, which made her laugh again.
“Doc? Mr. Halstead’s here.”
Meg clicked out of her email. “On my way,” she said, relieved that she worked with animals, who never based an opinion about somebody on whether they were gay or straight. Irene could learn a lot from the horses her husband owned. Maybe Meg would suggest that the next time she had to talk to her.
Meg arrived home Friday night just after midnight. She put the leftover grilled chicken from her “pre-birthday” dinner with Sean and Ted into her fridge then retrieved her mail from the box fastened to the brick wall next to the front door. She carried it into the kitchen to the small rectangular table that stood against a wall. The house didn’t have a dining room, but Meg didn’t miss one since she wouldn’t have used it much.
She stood next to the table, looking through the mail. A credit card bill, an offer for a credit card, veterinarian conference notification—she stopped and stared at the last envelope, transfixed by the handwriting. She’d know Gina’s small uniform capital letters anywhere. She looked at the return address, though she knew it would be Gina’s parents’ address in Sacramento. Gina had made it a habit when she was overseas to use that as a return address because she moved around on assignment so much. Meg always sent Gina’s parents a Christmas card. She knew their address by heart.
Meg left the other mail on the table and took the envelope into the living room. She carried it like it was a precious object, heart pounding. Mail and emails from Gina always made her flutter a little, but she chalked it up to the pleasant memories she had of their relationship before they went their separate ways.
She lit the pillar candle on the coffee table and sat down on the couch, where she studied the envelope. Plain white, the size of a card but a little thicker than just that. Gina usually included a short letter or note, updating Meg on what was going on with her and her family. The stamps and postmark were Turkish. It had taken a week to get here. A week. She held the envelope in both hands, thinking that barely a week separated them, a mere week embodied in this card. She smiled, then, surprised at how that made her feel.
She pulled her mini Swiss army knife out of her right-hand jeans pocket and flipped the blade open. She carefully slit the envelope and closed the blade before she set the knife down on the coffee table and pulled the card out. She studied the cover, a photographic image of a city that she guessed was Istanbul. She opened it and removed the folded paper. Gina had written “Happy Birthday, Cowgirl!” on the inside of the card. Her breathing sped up and she went back to that Friday night ten years ago at the River Rest Bar in Saratoga, where Gina blew the roof off the place with a Dixie Chicks song dedicated to Meg that she performed onstage during karaoke. And after that—Meg smiled and heat percolated through her chest. Gina had invited her to get closer, made it clear she was interested, and told her that she took her breath away.
She set the card on the coffee table and unfolded the papers, two small white sheets, filled with writing on one side of each. Gina had dated the first page a week ago and she always included the time she wrote it, military style. Here, she’d written 22:13. She smiled again. Gina never rounded off the time. If she started writing at thirteen minutes after ten, that’s what she recorded. For some reason, that quirk of hers sent sparks through Meg’s chest. She started reading.
Hiya, Cowgirl. I hope this finds you well. As you’ve probably guessed, I’m sending this from Istanbul. Turkey is an amazing country. I wish you could see it. Outside of the cities, you’ll find villages that look like little mud mounds scraped into the sides of hills that harbor the most amazing horse riders you’ll ever see. I’ve seen you do some of the things these people can on a horse, so I know you’d find a connection here. They’re sadly lacking in veterinary care, though they do all right with home remedies. But they still lose a lot of animals to illness and injury. I’m doing a piece on that. Check the Times website the first week of June.
She reread the first paragraph, savoring, before moving on:
Mom and Dad are fine. Nonno Antonio’s doing as well as can be expected for a grandfather. Hell, great-grandfather, these days. Nonna still has to chase him out of the kitchen when she’s cooking. And here’s the sibling update: Frank is stationed in Germany. He’s already had to do a stint in Saudi and he hated it. He’s only got a year to go and he’s hoping he won’t have to go back. He’s biding his time in Europe. Tony’s still a banker. Grace and Angelica are still married to the same guys and they still have the same number of kids as last year. Mary dumped her most recent girlfriend and has decided to go back to school for a master’s in psychology. My rebel younger sister, huh? Who knew she’d follow me down the gay path?
Meg laughed, thinking about Mary’s coming out party three years ago. Gina had emailed her the details. Leave it to Mary to do a debutante ball de-closeting.
Me, well. . .I think I’m getting tired, Meg. I like the travel and I love the stories, but I’ve seen some things that I know don’t sit well with me. And I’ve been in some pretty rough spots.
She frowned. This wasn’t the usual news she got from Gina.
Sharon told me about a position stateside opening up and I’m thinking about applying for it. Sharon got back to the States all right and I asked her to keep an eye out for anything that might fit. This looks pretty good, but they haven’t really opened it yet, so I’m putting some feelers out. Anyway, when you get this, I’ll probably be stuffed into some beat-up cramped car racing across a desert with no air conditioning trying to get the next big story, except I don’t want to be doing that anymore. I heard a rumor that I might be able to go to Italy for a week or two soon. I’ll hook up with some cousins I haven’t seen in a while and hopefully, I’ll know more about that position in the States. I wonder sometimes if you ever feel that way—that you really need to get a change going in your life.
She set the first page on top of the card and started reading the second.
I hope if you do you’ll tell me. At any rate, I know it’s been tough keeping in touch. That’s my fault, too. And please don’t take this the wrong way (tell Kate I’m not trying to move in on her woman!), but you’ve been on my mind a lot lately. I think about you this time of year anyway, but for some reason, I really would like to see you. I guess I’m feeling kind of rootless these days and when I think of you, it grounds me. I’m not sure when I’m supposed to be back in the States for a visit, but I’m shooting for August and I’d love to get a chance to see you, get caught up in person with Doc Tallmadge. I’m so proud of you! But I knew you’d do it. The first time you told me you wanted to go to vet school was that first week I was at the ranch, after you roped that wild filly in the corral and talked her into an agreement. I’d never seen anyone do that with a horse. I knew right then you’d get into vet school and I knew you’d be the best damn vet in the entire western hemisphere. I figure I’m right.
Well, hell, Cowgirl. It’s late and I have to get some sleep. Keep August in mind, all right?
Happy Birthday and check your email on Friday before your actual birthday.
--Gina
p.s. Say hi to Alice and the ranch crew. And don’t forget to tell your dad hi, too. I thought about him the other day because I saw this little girl riding a horse bareback and I remembered that story he told me the first night I got to the ranch—remember that? In the dining room at the DR? God, I was so glad to get there and know that I’d be spending that week with you. I didn’t even really know you then. Crazy. Anyway, that story he told me about how you rode a horse naked when you were a little girl and he had to chase you down the county road before your mom found out. Weird, the stuff you think about on the other side of the world. . .ha!
