I watched him ride off on his dirt bike and braced myself for another day dealing with the pet owners of Goose Run. I’d figured when Cash left that my day would go downhill, and when my first appointment was a cat that was half feral and half chainsaw, I was proven right. After the cat and its apologetic owner had left, I tossed the blood-streaked towels in the tub in the laundry room—my blood, not the cat’s—and taped myself up with Band-Aids. I went into the kitchen and helped myself to one of the cookies Kayla had brought in—I’d earned it—and then decided that the least I could do to atone for my theft was take the container out to her in reception.
She was on the phone. “Yes, Mrs. Power. I’ll be sure to ask Dr. Ross for you. Okay then. Bye now.”
“You’ll be sure to ask Dr. Ross what?” I asked after she ended the call.
“That was the weirdest fucking call,” she said, glancing around to make sure our next appointment wasn’t here yet. “Mrs. Power wanted to know if geese can be gay.”
“What? Why?” Mrs. Power was in her eighties and preferred to call us with any animal-related questions she had rather than googling like a normal person. A horrible thought struck me. “Oh god, what did Bobby’s goose do?”
“I have no idea,” she said, shaking her head. She plastered a smile on her face as the door opened. “Hi, Lucy. Rocco’s here for his checkup, right?”
I stole another cookie and headed back to the consult room while Kayla checked Rocco in.
Cash and I texted a few times throughout the day. Nothing big, but that just made it more special somehow. Cash and I fit easily and comfortably, which wasn’t to say my heart didn’t leap with anticipation every time I heard the chime of an incoming message.
I’d never felt that when I was with Patrick, even in the early days. I’d answered his texts because that was what you did when your boyfriend messaged you, but there had never been the spark of excitement that there was with Cash. But at the same time, what Cash and I had was somehow cozy in a way I hadn’t experienced before either.
I hadn’t been a good boyfriend for Patrick. I hadn’t been emotionally invested the way I should have been, and that wasn’t fair to him. Except I also hadn’t realized it until after we’d broken up, which had been too late for the relationship. And I didn’t regret it because he’d deserved better. I knew that. The only reason he’d moved on so quickly—literally straight from my apartment to the new guy’s—was that I’d mentally checked out months before. Or maybe I’d never mentally checked in at all. But now, for the first time, I was starting to realize that I also deserved better, and that with Cash I might have found it. I’d thought I’d loved Patrick, but we’d been better friends than boyfriends. Patrick had never made my heart tumble over a series of beats by sending me a photo of his shy smile next to a Lego model of the Colosseum.
I’d never looked forward to Patrick coming home the way I looked forward to Cash coming over tonight either.
Kayla caught me watching the clock after seeing the last patient of the day and gave me a knowing smirk. “Waiting for someone, Doc?”
“Don’t you have a kitten to name?” I shot back.
She opened her mouth, but I was saved by the front door opening. My relief was short-lived when a flurry of feathers came racing across the room, honking. I was about to duck behind the counter when Bobby Merritt came bustling in, clutching an empty leash. “Lucille! Get back here!” He scooped the goose up and tucked her under one arm, then clipped the leash onto her harness while she honked in outrage.
“Hey, Mr. Merritt,” I said. “Is there a problem with Lucille?” I hoped the answer was no—I wasn’t sure I could handle feral cat-andgoose-related injuries in one day.
“Call me Bobby,” he said. “And nah, she’s just a little feisty today.”
I did my best not to let my relief show. “Then what can I do for you?”
Bobby shoved the goose into my arms without warning, and as I struggled to get a solid grip on her, he started digging in the pockets of his overalls. By the time I had Lucille secured, he’d found what he was looking for. He handed Kayla a rolled-up sheet of paper and said, “I was wondering if I could put this up in your waiting room.”
Kayla unrolled the paper and held it up, displaying a drawing of a rainbow-colored goose. At least, I was guessing it was a goose.
I stared at him blankly.
“You like it? It’s for the festival!”
And yep, there in giant purple letters across the top of the page, it proclaimed Goose Pride.
Kayla made a strangled noise. “Bobby,” she asked, “is this a festival for queer geese?”
He hummed under his breath for a second and then said, “I guess it kinda does look like that, doesn’t it?” His brow creased.
“I think you missed a couple of words. Like Gay, and the Run part of Goose Run,” Kayla suggested. Lucille honked her agreement, then tried to take a bite of my ear.
“Well, shoot!” Bobby laughed and shoved a hand into the pocket of his shorts. I waited for him to pull out another poster but no, turned out he was just adjusting himself. It took a certain level of shamelessness to dress in short-short overalls, and Bobby had it in spades.
“I don’t suppose you’ve got a Sharpie, do you?” he asked Kayla.
She pulled one out of the drawer and I watched, fascinated despite myself, as he bent over the counter and scribbled something on the poster. “There!” he said, holding it up. “Better?”
It still said Goose Pride, but underneath Bobby had written GAY in big block letters across the picture of the goose.
“That’s a lot clearer,” Kayla said, blinking furiously and refusing to make eye contact.
