Now it was my turn to say thanks, then I told her, “Be right back.” Just as I started out the door, I literally ran into Dr. Jenkins. “Oomph,” he muttered, after I slammed into his chest.
“I’m so sorry,” I said.
He chuckled. “It’s okay, Annabel. I was actually coming to look for you.”
My brows shot up in surprise. “You were?”
“I have a potential sedation case for vaccines. I was wondering if you could work your magic.”
“Um, I can try.”
“I would appreciate it, and I’m sure the owner would as well.”
As I followed him down the hallway, I couldn’t help feeling slightly empowered that Dr. Jenkins had sought me out. At the previous place where I’d worked, they jokingly called me the Pet Whisperer for my ability to calm animals down. Although I was often asked what my secret was, I wasn’t actually aware of anything special that I did. I just seemed to connect with them when they were afraid or in pain.
When I entered the exam room, a seemingly kind looking Golden Retriever was backed into the corner. At the sight of Dr. Jenkins and me, he bared his teeth and growled. Withoutanother word from Dr. Jenkins, I went over to the dog and crouched down on his level. When I met his wary but aggressive gaze, I held it. Silently, I willed him to be calm, to relax, and to trust the doctor.
As the dog continued holding my stare, Dr. Jenkins picked up the syringes on the exam table and then slowly walked around to the dog’s back flank. Dr. Jenkins was able to administer the shots without a growl or even a whimper from the animal. When Dr. Jenkins was done, the dog backed away.
Tentatively, I reached my hand out. After the dog sniffed my hand, I started to pet the top of his head. His tail wagged appreciatively. “There. You’re all done.”
“That’s amazing,” the owner said, with wide eyes.
Dr. Jenkins smiled. “It certainly is. I’ve never seen anyone with such a gift.”
Like a true redhead, I knew I wore my embarrassment on my cheeks. “I’m just glad I could help.”
After seeing a handful of four-legged patients, it was time to head home. Grabbing my purse, I headed to the door only to find Dr. Jenkins blocking my escape.
He gave me a genuine smile. “Annabel, I just wanted to say thank you again for today. You have become such an asset to this practice.”
I fought hard not to start blushing again. “Thank you, Dr. Jenkins. It means a lot to hear you say that.”
“Josh,” he said. “You can call me Josh.”
With a smile, I replied, “Thank you, Josh.”
We stood in an awkward silence as we seemed to tip-toe along the line of whether to continue being professional or shift into more personal territory. It had been this way almost since the day I first met Josh Jenkins. He didn’t look at me the same way the other doctors did, and to be truthful, I looked at him differently too.
Dr. Jenkins finally cleared his throat and stepped aside from the doorway. “Well, uh, have a good evening.”
“Thank you. Same to you.”
Once I escaped through the door, I had to fight the urge to skip out to my car. All my life, I had dreamed of becoming a veterinarian, much to the disapproval of my parents. Coming from a political family, they didn’t see how being a vet could benefit my father’s career or my future husband’s. It went without saying that said future husband would come from one of the finest social circles in Virgina. My parents would have found my interest in Dr. Jenkins appalling.
I hadn’t been groomed for future political office like my older sister, Lenore. After graduating top of her class from Harvard Law, she would be the next senator or political representative from our family. Conversely, I was the pretty face whose soft spoken charm was considered far more Jackie Kennedy than Hilary Clinton. In my parents’ eyes, my one goal in life should have been to marry well and offer support to my future husband’s political career.
But while they had always underestimated my talents, I had silently pursued them. After graduating with a 4.0 in Biology from The University of Virginia, I shocked my parents by going through with graduate school applications in veterinarian medicine. While I had originally been accepted and began coursework at The University of Virginia, I found myself itching to spread my wings and be independent. Originally my parents would hear nothing of the sort. The only way I had finally appeased them to where they would pay for my continued education away from home was to go to Texas A&M. Their choice had nothing to do with the fact it was one of the top ten veterinary schools. No, it was about what a politically important state Texas was.
When I slid inside my car, my phone began to ring. Glancing at the caller ID, I groaned. “Speak of the devil,” I muttered. It was the one person sure to kill the happy buzz I was feeling. “Hi, Mother,” I said, as I forced myself to sound pleased to talk to her.
“Hello, darling. I just wanted to call and check in. Daddy and I were wondering how Texas was treating you.” Regardless of the miles and miles between us, I could still register my mother’s fakeness a mile away. Considering she had yet to call me to see how I was doing, I knew there was a more self-serving purpose for her call.
“You mean you just wanted to call to make sure Preston Bradford and I were still going out tonight.”
My mother’s trill of a laugh grated on my last nerve. “Okay, fine, you caught me. I was dying to know if it was still on.”
My parents, along with their close friends the Bradfords, relished the fantasy that Preston and I were going to get married, not only uniting two political powerhouse families, but also producing the marriage of the future President and First Lady. I’m not sure how they had made the quantum leap from Preston and I merely talking to wedding bells, but if it kept them off my back for any length of time, I was willing to indulge them.
