Large stones, about six inches long, surrounded a waterfall donated by a local nursery. Each one was decorated by a woman or child who’d come to the shelter and graduated out. The rocks had become a tradition to mark the new phase of life each person would embark on.
The ring of her phone broke her concentration, and she froze when she saw the vet’s number on the screen. Roxie’s recovery had been going so well, she’d forgotten they still awaited the biopsy results.
“Hello,” she choked out after an awkward silence.
“Good afternoon, Rachel.”
When she heard Dr. Scott’s voice, her heart dropped to her knees. “It’s bad news isn’t it?”
“It’s not the worst.” Dr. Scott inhaled, and she could picture the distressed expression that would be on his face. “The results did come back malignant.”
Stinging tears burned her eyes. She wouldn’t fall apart, not now. “How is that not the worst news?”
“Her cancer is localized to her leg. If we amputate that leg, we will remove the cancer from her.”
She struggled to see the good. “And if we don’t?”
“There are treatments available, but it’s an extremely aggressive cancer. Even if we remove the tumor, there is a high probability of it returning and metastasizing.” His tone held all the calm assurance she lacked.
“Say we proceed. What is the outlook for Roxie’s quality of life?”
“There will be a short period of adjustment, but dogs are resilient and have an amazing ability to adapt.”
“Even at her age and size?”
“Yes.” Dr. Scott cleared his throat. “I’ve seen many dogs older and larger than her live many happy years post-amputation. You know I believe in being upfront and honest. If I thought Roxie couldn’t have a good life, we’d be having a different conversation.”
She gulped. “When should she have the operation?”
“I’d suggest as soon as possible. The rapid growth concerns me, especially now that we have results. I know it’s sudden, but I looked at the surgery schedule for tomorrow and there were two cancelations which gives me a solid block for Roxie.”
Her phone took the brunt of her emotions as she squeezed with a firm grasp. “If that’s what you believe is best, let’s do it. I trust you.”
Dr. Scott’s voice dropped and adapted a fatherly tone. “Every person here loves Roxie. She’ll get the best care from people who will treat her as their own.”
That reminder lifted her spirits a small amount. “That’s why I’ll never take her anywhere else.”
“I’m going to put you on the phone with Mandy and she’ll give you all the information you need for tomorrow.”
“Thank you.”
She listened half-heartedly to Mandy, then asked her if she would email all the paperwork and instructions. With the state her brain was in, she didn’t trust herself to remember all the details.
After the call, she wiped her eyes. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t cry, but her emotions wouldn’t obey. Lunch became an afterthought and her appetite vanished. She couldn’t go inside, not until she’d calmed down.
The people within the walls of Hope House had problems far more serious than hers, and while that didn’t negate her pain, she had a duty to her residents. She had to pull herself together.
Her fingers itched to call Aaron. She hadn’t spoken to him since Sunday night and had avoided his calls. It wasn’t fair to him, but she’d been spooked. She owed him an explanation, but she didn’t know how to give one without explaining her attraction to him.
Still, she needed him—as a friend. He understood the bond she had with Roxie, and knew he’d instill perspective into the situation. Taking a calming breath, she held it in and let the fresh air breathe a new outlook into her.
She’d call Aaron, and eventually, she’d offer her reasons for avoiding him this week.
He answered immediately. “Hey there.”
“Hey.” Each time she tried to tell him about Roxie, the lump in her throat grew, blocking any words.
“Are you okay?”
