After the stitches were in place and a small bootie was covering his paw, Toby said, “All right, I’ll leave it to Brett here to explain about monitoring and when to change the bootie. If you have any problems at all, feel free to call, and Brandy can get you in.”
Years ago, I would have had his number to text or call directly. “Thank you.”
“You did so good, Marlowe,” Toby said, giving the dog a big pat and a dog bone from the jar on the small counter. He crunched away happily, tail wagging like he hadn’t just put me through hell.
“When you’re done here, Brandy will get you all checked out,” he said, pulling open the door to leave.
That was it? That was all he had to say to me after ten years?
“Toby,” I called, and he stopped in the doorway.
I waited until he turned around to say, “Thank you for seeing him. And for doing such a good job patching him up. I appreciate it.”
Surprise sparked in his expression, and it made me feel like even more of an ass for the way I’d behaved. “You’re welcome. Marlowe is a cutie. Let us know if he needs anything else.”
But what about me?
I nodded. “I will.”
And then he was gone. I didn’t see him again before I took Marlowe home.
5
Toby
“Areyou sure we’ve seen all the patients for the day?” I asked.
Brandy looked up from the desk, patience filling her eyes. “You’ve seen them all. There will be more tomorrow.”
“No one called in for any last-minute emergencies or appointments?” I pressed.
“If they had, I would have put them on the schedule,” she sang, returning to what she was doing.
“It’s so weird to be done with work before the sun sets,” I murmured, gazing out the window at the not-dark sky. It was dim, though, having been gray all day, and with the sun setting around four thirty, it wouldn’t be light much longer.
“Tell me you’re a workaholic without telling me,” she mused and waved a piece of paper in front of me.
“What is that?”
“Tomorrow’s list of patients.”
Brightening, I went to snatch it, but she pulled it back before I could get my greedy hands on it.
“Hey,” I admonished. “Didn’t you print that for me?”
“Well, I certainly didn’t print it for me.”
I made grabby hands at it, and she tsked. “I’ll give this to you on one condition.”
“I’m listening,” I said, resting my elbow on the check-in counter and propping my chin in my hand.
“You cannot use this as an excuse to stay late and read through every file of the patients you’re seeing tomorrow.”
I made a face. “Then what’s the point of even giving it to me?”
“Because I know you like to be prepared.”
I reached for it again, but she pulled it away, saying, “But there is a difference between being prepared and using work as an excuse.”
