Thirteen
Jenny walked out the front door of the vet’s, pushing the heavy door with her hip as she struggled with the stupid cat carrier that contained one very disgruntled cat. ‘Once again, I’m so sorry, Bruce,’ Jenny called to the middle-aged veterinarian who held a swab against his bleeding hand as his receptionist wife fussed about looking for antiseptic. She was going to have to find another vet—even if that meant driving all the way to Hamwell every time Fat Cat needed a check-up. She was pretty sure the two vets who ran the local practice drew straws to see which one got her animal and the time was coming when she’d be asked to take her bad-tempered feline elsewhere.
‘Good work, Fat Cat,’ Jenny muttered as she shoved the carrier into the back seat and secured it with a seatbelt. ‘You’re going to get us banned. Would it kill you to,just once, not draw blood?’
The cat gave a mournful yowl as Jenny shook her head.
‘Hey.’
Jenny swore as her head hit the door frame. She spun to find Nick standing beside the vehicle.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked, stepping forward.
‘I’m fine. You startled me that’s all,’ she said, rubbing her head.
‘Sorry.’
‘It’s fine,’ she said, gingerly examining her fingers, relieved to see there was no blood.
‘I, ah … I’m glad I bumped into you,’ he said, his shoulders hunching as he shoved his hands into the small front pockets of his jeans. ‘I wanted to apologise for the other day when you came in to check on me. I probably sounded like a jerk.’
Jenny stepped away from the car and shut the back door, silencing the dramatic protesting still coming from the cat carrier. ‘You’d had a rough day,’ she said, leaning against the vehicle.
‘Yeah. But you’d picked up on something and at the time I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to talk about it, I guess.’
Jenny forgot about her throbbing head and the outraged cat noises coming from inside the car as she switched to professional mode.
‘I lost a mate, a few years back now. Being in the hospital brought it all back. It was the first time I’d been inside a hospital since, and I don’t know … it just hit me. Kind of caught me off guard. I didn’t mean to brush you off the way I did. I just wanted to say I’m sorry.’
‘That’s okay. Smells and sounds can often trigger bad memories. I’m sorry about your friend. Was it some kind of workplace accident?’
He shrugged. ‘It wasn’t an accident. It was a gunshot wound.’
Jenny felt her heart catch. ‘Oh, Nick. I’m so sorry,’ she said, and lightly touched his arm. She should have suspected. ‘Was it during your time overseas? In the army?’
‘No. Afterwards—once we came home. It was … self-inflicted,’ he said. ‘He wasn’t coping too well after we got back.’
‘Oh, Nick.’ She stopped, feeling the breath leave her body. At the time, she’d wondered if his reaction had been because of things he’d seen during his time overseas serving in the army. It hadn’t crossed her mind that it could have been something like this. She didn’t have much experience with returned service men and women, but she had heard enough from other nursing staff to know that suicide numbers in that profession were a concern.
‘You probably won’t believe me when I say that I’m actually okay with it all now. I mean, not that you can ever be okay with it, but it was a turning point for a lot of us who knew Richie. It was a wake-up call we all needed.’
‘That’s good, then,’ she said and honestly meant it. It wasn’t up to her to lecture him about getting appropriate help—clearly he’d dealt with this and probably knew more about counselling and other avenues to turn to than she could ever offer him.
‘I’d better let you get back to whatever it was you were doing,’ he said, eyeing the car and the source of the noises that came from within it.
‘Oh. Yeah. I have to get the cat home. It was good to see you.’
‘You too,’ Nick said. ‘Guess I’ll see you around. When’s the next big date?’
‘When hell freezes over,’ she said, reaching for the door handle. She wondered why he looked so nervous.
‘Aw, come on. You aren’t giving up that easy?’
‘I’d rather think of it as a tactical retreat. There’s nothing out there in the online dating world for me.’
‘Not even some decent conversation?’
A memory of her mystery messenger man briefly appeared before she shook her head with a small smile. ‘Nothing online is real.’
