“I really appreciate it, Jace,” he says, dropping the keys into my palm. “Here’re the keys to the kingdom.”
My fingers curl around them, clutching them tightly, as I turn my head to the side and look at him. His grey hair pokes out from beneath the fedora he’s wearing, and he adjusts his peacoat before looking over at me. Wrinkles cut into his forehead as he raises his eyebrows.
Uncle Dave has always been a steady figure in my life. Four years ago, when my parents decided they wanted to sell their home, he stepped in and offered to take care of the place for me after I bought it from them.
I couldn’t let them sell it. I wasn’t sure what I planned on doing after my hockey career was over, but I knew I would come back home eventually. This is where I’ve always belonged. No where else has ever felt quite like Sugar Hill Hollow.
My father and my Uncle Dave owned a construction company here in the Hollow, and my Aunt Maria ran the vet clinic. Since they’ve gotten older, and my parents moved, they ended up selling the construction business, so he’s just been helping my aunt with the clinic.
Unlocking the door, I push it open and turn back around to Uncle Dave, extending my hand to him. His palm is warm against mine as we share a firm shake. “If you need anything, you can call me.” He gives me a nod as he releases my hand, then clasps my shoulder and squeezes. It’s the closest thing to a hug I’ll get from him.
“Thanks, Uncle Dave.” I pause and clap my hand over his still on my shoulder. “Safe travels and have an amazing trip.”
“Thanks. We’ll see you soon.” He smiles back at me, but I can sense there’s more he wants to say. “Don’t stress yourself too much. You’ve got this.”
My lips lift in a smile and I dip my chin, turning to watch him leave. I adjust the straps to right my backpack while my uncle heads back to his black Lincoln parked along the street. He rolls down his window and sticks his arm out to give me a final wave before heading down Main Street.
Turning back to look at the clinic, my heart quickens in my chest, and I suck in a deep breath. Anxiety rolls in my stomach, but I push it away, straightening my shoulders. My hockeycareer may have been an epic failure, but I can do something as simple as keep the clinic afloat until they return.
I don’t know who I even am without hockey. But this gives me some sense of purpose, even if it’s only temporarily.
My conversation with Harrison lingers in the back of my mind, but I shelf it for later. I can’t think about buying a rink right now. I just can’t.
My phone vibrates in my front pocket and I pull it out, my eyebrows cinching together as I see my mother’s name on the screen. Swallowing roughly and ignoring the guilt that threatens to wash over me, I hit the ignore button and send her a quick text.
Jace
Hey, I’m busy, but I’ll text you later.
My mother texts me back a quick ‘okay’ and I tuck my phone back into my pocket, along with the guilt. I know at some point I’m going to have to talk to my parents again, but not yet. Not until I can prove I’m not a failure anymore.
My footsteps are purposeful as I walk into the clinic and flip the light switch just inside. The fluorescent lights hum to life through the waiting room and down the hallway that leads to the exam rooms. At the end, there’s a door that leads to the surgical area.
Pulling my backpack straps from my shoulder, I carefully hold it in front of me, setting it down on the receptionist desk. It’s a medium sized pack, except it isn’t one to hold belongings. The clear fishbowl window on the front reveals a grey body inside. I tug the zipper open and a grey head with one eye pokes out. She lets out a sound that is supposed to be a meow but sounds more like a hum.
“I know, you don’t like it in there,” I say as I lift her long body from the backpack and set her down on the counter. She sniffs the air and her eye attempts to look around the room, although I’m not sure how much she actually sees. It resembles a melted marble, and her vision is limited because of the infection she had as a kitten. That’s how she lost her other eye.
She slinks past the computer, her paws hitting a key on the keyboard. She whips her head to the side to sniff at the screen as it lights up. Then she hops off the desk, her tail swishing as she wanders into the hallway. A chuckle rumbles in my chest and I shake my head at her curiosity. Just then, the bell above the front door rings.
“Hello, Jace.”
Joyce walks in with a bright smile on her face and slips behind the counter. She’s been Maria’s receptionist here for at least fifteen years now. She knows everything there is to know about the clinic, so if there’s one person who should actually be running things, it’s her.
She’s inching closer to her own retirement, and I know Uncle Dave didn’t want to add more to her plate.
“Good morning, Joyce.”
She sets her purse on the counter, pulls out the desk chair, and she slowly lowers herself down onto it. “Are you ready for your first day in charge?”
“I think so,” I say, smiling and nodding. “But if I do something incorrectly, don’t be afraid to let me know.”
“Trust me, honey, I won’t,” she laughs as she adjusts her black rimmed glasses. “I’m sure you’ll be fine.” She moves her mouse, lighting up the screen so she can type in her password.
“I hope so.”
Aunt Maria sent me a message this morning that was a sort of crash course for what to do around the clinic, although it’s justadministrative things. The doctors and vet techs will still be in to care for the animals.
I throw my backpack back over my shoulder. “I’m going to take my things into the office and grab my laptop. I hope you don’t mind; I brought my cat along. She can be a bit of a pest, so if you want me to put her away, just let me know.”
