Still, I manage to salvage the situation by solving everyone’s problems and, other than an odd sort of burbling in my stomach I’m blaming on eating my lunch too fast, I’m feeling like a superhero or a rockstar. Or both. A superhero rock star.
Why hasn’t anyone made that movie yet?
I’m in the middle of transporting a stray cat to the vet when I get the call every parent in the world dreads.
I have to pick Harper up from preschool because she vomited. And little kids never make it to the toilet. She vomited on her best friend’s afternoon snack.
It sounds like absolute chaos in the background of that phone call, and the teacher doesn’t sound too happy. Probably because every kid in the place is also going to be vomiting over the next week, and she’s highly likely to contract the devil stomach rot herself.
My midsection burbles again, and I groan. There’s no doubt now that the burbling has nothing to do with my lunch and everything to do with the toxic germs Harper’s been harboring in her little body.
As I park at Jared’s large animal vet clinic, I close my eyes and say a little prayer that my parents haven’t contracted it. And then my stomach growls audibly as I contemplate the possibility that I’ve given it to Deacon.
He is never going to want to see me again.
“He can never know,” I say aloud, sounding to my own ears like a movie villain.
But seriously. He can never know. I’ll just lie low until this passes.
I call my boss before I get out of the truck.
“I have to pick up Harper,” I say. “Stomach bug.”
She gasps. She’s a mother. She knows. “I’ll take over for you. Drop the truck off and I’ll disinfect it.”
She doesn’t often take over for us. She really doesn’t have the time. But there’s only an hour left in my shift, and there’s no point in calling anyone in.
“Thank you. I’m pretty sure I’ve got it, too. I’m probably not going to make it into work tomorrow.”
“I’ve already scheduled heavy for tomorrow. I’ve got a recruit starting and I want Summers to train him.”
I sigh. “We don’t know that I’m getting the scholarship.”
“You will,” she says. “I’ve been getting glowing reviews of your work lately.” She hesitates. “For the most part. Did you laugh at someone who told you a stray dog was scaring their children?”
“I didn’t laugh.” People are so critical. “I was just having a good day, and I smiled a teensy bit more than necessary.”
“Uh-huh,” she says. “Don’t even think about stepping foot in this office. Tell me what you need from your locker and I’ll—”
“I don’t need anything. I’ll call you tomorrow with an update.”
“Call me when you feel up to it,” she says. “No rush.”
I hang up, strap on a mask, because no way am I passing this on to Jared’s staff, and head inside.
“Hey, Amelia,” Jared’s receptionist, Cassandra, says. “Do you have a sick one for us?” Typically, I only wear a mask if I’ve got an animal with an illness or anything that looks like a fungus or parasite. In my opinion, there’s no such thing as being too careful.
“I’m the sick one,” I say. “Or I think I will be. I just got a call from Harper’s school. Stomach bug.”
Cassandra winces. “Oof. That’s rough. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
I’m pretty sure she’s just saying that to be nice. She seems like someone I could be friends with, even if she is twenty years older than me, but she’s non-stop busy working for Jared. She doesn’t have time to drop off fluids and crackers.
I set the cat carrier on her desk. “This is a stray who needs to be neutered. Just call the office when he’s ready for pickup and someone will drop by to get him.”
She nods and starts filling out the paperwork. “I doubt Jared or Liz will be able to see him before Wednesday, but we’ll let you know. I hope you’ve applied for the scholarship for the vet program. We desperately need a small-animal vet.”
I’ve told Cassandra many times about my dream of becoming a vet. “I have. I won’t find out for another couple of weeks, though.”
