“No, that would be Pumpkin.”
She chuckled, hiding her head in my shoulder for a second, her body relaxed against mine, feeling soft and shapely. She kept laughing until she caught her breath. The situation was funny and I found myself laughing with her giving in to the contagious and refreshing moment.
“Oh God, that dog stinks.”
“He could use a different diet and his nails clipped shorter.”
“Flowers. Can he eat flowers?” She giggled.
“No, but I can recommend a prescription diet that should help. How are you feeling?”
She struggled to sit up, and I found myself strangely missing her leaning against my chest.
“Like I got knocked over by a bus. Woozy.”
“That’s normal. Do you faint often?”
“No, not really. Apparently, this only happens in vet offices.”
“And you told me you were fine with needles.”
“Well, to be fair, I’d never seen one as long as yours before.”
We both chuckled until the awkward silence set in among other unspoken dirty thoughts peppered by dog farting. Cue Pumpkin the romance killer.
“All right, well, let’s get you standing.” Regretfully, I helped her stand up. Our bodies were flush against each other before she cleared her throat and took a step back, clutching the table on unsteady legs.
“Feel free to give yourself a minute.” I didn’t want her to go.
“I’m better now, thanks. I think I’ll wait outside, though, if that’s all right. Pumpkin is probably better at this than I am.”
“Sure, let Sharon know to come back. She took the other two charges to the boarding pen.”
“Thanks.” Winnie left the exam room, leaving a trail of her expensive perfume behind. It didn’t mask Pumpkin’s odor, but it teased of something better. I met her all of five minutes ago and knew nothing about her. When she left, she also took her smile, and I found I wanted that back.
3
Winnie
Only I, Winsome Gray was capable of fainting at the vet’s office with hottie Dr. Doo-fucking-little. I wasn’t going to survive the summer pet-sitting if Pumpkin, the silent but deadly farter, needed these acupuncture treatments regularly. I felt flushed and my panties were damp in the I-wish-I-had-been-working-out-snatch-sweat kind of way. It was mortifying, utterly embarrassing and the story of my not so uptown Manhattan life for the next ten weeks.
Pinching the bridge of my nose, Sharon interrupted my inner monologue. “So Pumpkin is all set, and Dr. Calloway wrote a script for the prescription diet with directions.”
“Thanks.” Thoroughly embarrassed, I peeled myself off the wall where, who was I kidding, I wasn’t blending in anywhere. “Anything else?” Sharon handed me the leashes back for all three dogs that seemed much more subdued now. I felt like a cat in heat, ready to scramble up the wall, but the dogs, damn them, looked cool as cucumbers, tails and tongues wagging.
Furry Fuckers.
“Pumpkin has regular treatments set up bi-monthly, but I do see here that Bailey is due for a dis
temper shot.” She clicked away on her computer and each keystroke upped my anxiety further. “So how does next week look for you?” This lady had to be kidding. At hearing her name, Bailey pulled on the leash like crazy to get out the door. I didn’t blame her one bit.
“Fine, great, same time?” My arm was about to be dislocated by this beast if I couldn’t get out of there.
“I’ll put you in the computer!” Sharon continued typing and writing, but I was halfway out of the office already.
“See ya!” The door practically hit me on my ass, making me stumble forward down the steps onto the sidewalk. The dogs were more than ready to go and I trailed behind. Ah hell, if I was lucky maybe I wouldn’t see the good doctor next week. I’d have to stock up on clean panties and ice water for my veins so I could keep my cool next time. Thinking about his broad shoulders that were more suited to a gym or a football field wasn’t helping.
Getting home occurred without incident. Luckily. I don’t think I could have handled much more today. I opened the door and the dogs raced in, so I dropped their leashes thinking they’d be fine. The phone rang, and I barely caught the barstool Bailey had caught with her leash. Righting the stool, I picked up the house phone, wondering why my aunt still had one at all. We were a generation of cell phones and Wi-Fi except here in the mountains.