“Okay, thank you for telling me. Please wait here, and I’ll be back shortly to let you know our game plan.”
Mrs. Daniels nodded and slumped down in the chair as if saying the wordsareaandacornhad taken every drop of energy she had. I patted her shoulder and let myself out, leaning against the door before a giggle escaped. Clapping my hand over my mouth, I walked over to Lacy, who had just taken a urine sample from Sugar.
“What’s so funny?” Lacy handed the sample over to Melissa to test for infection.
“Oh, you know, Mrs. Daniels just called Sugar’s vagina an acorn.”
I put my hand on my stomach and took a deep breath to keep from laughing harder.
“An acorn? That’s a new one,” Melissa said, picking up Sugar and scratching her head. “More like a hairy acorn.”
With that, the three of us couldn’t control our laughter, and I put my hands on my knees then wiped my eyes. Melissa and Lacy kept laughing after I stopped and only let up when Sugar gave a sharp bark like she knew we were laughing at her mama.
“Sorry, little one,” I said, rubbing her belly.
One of our medical students, Kim, walked back from the x-ray room with a somber look on her face. “Everyone,” she said. “Sugar has bladder stones.”
“Shit,” I said, pulling my hair out and retying it in a bun. “Prep the OR. I’ll talk to Mrs. Daniels. Page Dr. Duvall so he can cover my first two surgeries. If he can’t, push everything up an hour. Kim, scrub in with me.”
“Yes, Doctor,” came a chorus of voices as each tech set off to prep.
I walked back to the exam room with the news that Sugar and her acorn would be fine, but she needed surgery immediately to remove the stones.
So much for an easy day.
6 - MARK
Do you know the difference between a newborn baby and a kitten? Yeah, me neither.
I was lying in bed less than a week later, rubbing a spot behind her ears and thinking of a name. She meowed in the bathroom for all of ten minutes that first night before I opened the door and bundled her up, laying her on my chest. She sniffed my chest hair like it personally offended her I had so much, then curled up in a ball and fell asleep.
I slept like shit, hardly able to move for fear of waking her up. Was she too cold? Too warm? Hungry? Thirsty?
I needed a nap.
Groaning, I stretched and reached above my head, only to be rewarded with tiny needle claws digging into my pec. I bit my lip and plucked her off, setting her on the bed and swinging my legs to the side. I rubbed my chest and stumbled to the bathroom, lifting the lid to do my business. As I finished, a stench hit my nose. It smelled like someone ripped ass after eating Mexican mixed with Thai.
Holy shit.
I turned around with my dick in hand and saw the kitten staring at me as she did her business. Then she covered it up and hopped out of the box and back to the bedroom like she owned the place. I rolled my eyes and finished up, washing my hands and holding my breath before grabbing the scooper and doing some damage control on that litter box. I wondered if I should text Jenna about that smell.
Jenna.
I always thought it was stupid when I heard people talk about feeling that elusive electric spark. It was a crazy exaggeration made up by the sappy romantics who loved love. It was wild theories, like taking a dumb social media test to see what flavor ice cream you were, but now, my perspective had shifted, and I had no clue what to do about it.
When I wrapped my arms around her and felt her tight up against me, something felt right. I forgot to breathe. Forgot everything except how her body molded to mine. It had to be a fluke. Things like that didn’t happen from a damn hug. I’d just been alone too long, but a quiet voice in the back of my head whispered it was time to stop making assumptions and time to take what I wanted.
“Meow. Meow.”
The kitten was sitting by my foot, staring up at me with those big blue eyes as if she hadn’t left the bathroom smelling like, well, shit.
“Come on, let’s get you breakfast,” I said, lifting her up as I walked downstairs.
I opened the pantry and stared. Oatmeal sounded as appealing as the cardboard box it came in, but I spied a jar of apple butter and grabbed it, deciding on that with toast and eggs.
“What should we name you?” I set the kitten on the couch. She sat down and looked at me like she was about to answer. “I am down for anything but Princess Consuela Banana-Hammock.”
“Meow. Meow.”
