Callie attempted to pay attention to her feet, but the gentle caresses distracted her. Does she know it makes me crazy?
When the song finished, Callie grinned at Lauren. “Wonderful. Thanks for the dance.”
“You’re a great dancer. Thanks for letting me lead. I never learned to follow.”
They drifted to the bar for a drink. “Where did you learn to rumba?” Callie asked.
“My mother taught me, but it didn’t make my father happy. He said she made me gay because she taught me to lead.” They laughed at the ridiculous logic, but Callie saw the hint of sadness flash in Lauren’s eyes.
Callie said, “I took lessons with a group of friends when I was in high school. They tried to pair us up boy-girl, which was annoying, but since there weren’t enough boys interested, my partner was another girl. She was very sweet.”
“You had things figured out early.”
“I did. Probably from birth. You?”
“Let’s just say that the undercurrent of homophobia in my family didn’t make being gay an option.”
“That sounds tough.”
“Not really. It never occurred to me to do anything about it.” Lauren shrugged. “I learned to fill the gaps in my day. I studied and had part-time jobs. Dating wasn’t an issue.”
Callie felt a stab of compassion. Lauren shrugged it off, but how hard had it really been?
Callie said, “I never got to work at McDonald’s with my friends. My parents always had work for me at home on the farm. Did you work on a farm?”
“I did for a couple of summers in college, but in high school I worked at Baskin-Robbins.”
“You served ice cream?”
“Yeah, and there was never a job I was less suited for. I’m a bit of an ice cream addict. I was always sneaking samples.”
Callie laughed. “I’d take a bag of chips or popcorn first.”
“Salt, eh? Not into sugar?”
Callie didn’t see anything odd in the comment until Lauren blushed. Then she grinned. She was into a certain kind of sugar. She debated teasing Lauren further, but an instant later, a pair of skinny arms with scary long red nails snaked around Lauren’s waist from behind.
Lauren jumped and then pivoted, but Red Nails hung on tight and followed Lauren until the interloper ended up between Callie and Lauren.
Lauren sputtered. “What’re you doing, Tina?”
Tina turned and scanned Callie’s body. Callie returned the favor. Tina was in her mid-twenties and short. Borderline scrawny, with shiny brown hair piled high. Her red strapless dress clung to her petite frame and left nothing to the imagination.
Tina gave her a final dismissive glance before she grasped Lauren’s arms and wrapped them around her waist. “Hey, L.C., are you going for older women now?”
“Pardon? Lauren’s older than I am,” Callie said.
“Stealing my vet, stretch?” Tina slurred her words and would have fallen if Lauren hadn’t supported her.
“We were dancing.” Callie frowned at Tina and waited for Lauren to say something. To tell Tina to go away.
“I like my vet. She screws like an animal. Get it? Vets screw like animals.” Tina giggled inanely at her own joke. Then she followed it with a sloppy pirouette and latched her arms around Lauren’s neck. After a quick kiss on Lauren’s chin Tina rested her head against Lauren’s breasts.
Lauren’s face burned, and she held her arms out to her sides as though unsure what to do with Tina using her as a leaning post.
Callie searched Lauren’s eyes for an explanation and willed her to say something. When she didn’t, she stepped back and shrugged. “Okay then, good night, Lauren.”
Callie marched over to her table, plopped into a chair, and crossed her arms. From her table, she watched Lauren tow a staggering Tina across the crowded dance floor toward the restrooms. “Seems Lauren had a date. Perhaps her style is drunken little girls.”
Rachel glanced from Lauren to Callie and raised an eyebrow. “You’re kidding?”
“Funny. I can’t picture Lauren interested in such a child. But I guess I don’t know her, really.”
“Lauren should appreciate maturity and class.”
“Yes, she should.” The sharp pain in her chest told Callie that she no longer wished to be at the club. Tina was attractive in a cute, tiny, perfect, I-was-a-cheerleader-in-high-school way. In heels, Callie towered over most women and made some uncomfortable. She had what her sister called a sporty build, tall, lean, and fit, but never cute and petite. What she wouldn’t give to make a quick exit, go home, and crawl into bed.
Fifteen minutes later, Callie spotted Lauren and Tina crossing the dance floor. Lauren had her arm wrapped around Tina’s waist and escorted her to a seat beside Valerie. As hard as she tried, Callie couldn’t look away, and the fun vibe of the night disappeared completely.
“I’m going now, Rach. I’m not having fun anymore.”
“What? Don’t let Lauren chase you away. Those women at the table by the bar were watching you dance and they’re still watching you. There are plenty of other women to choose from.”
Callie shook her head. “Thanks for inviting me, but I think I’m done for the night. I came here ready to have fun and all I feel is annoyed.” If she couldn’t keep one woman’s attention for more than five minutes, it was a sign she should stay at Poplarcreek and concentrate on being a better farmer. She was having a shitty calving season and the Krugers were circling her like vultures. Enough playing. Women were a luxury she couldn’t afford. With a determined shake of her head, Callie jumped to her feet. “Time for me to go. Thanks, Rach.” She hugged Rachel, slipped on her coat, and bolted from the club.
Chapter Five
Lauren dragged herself out of bed on Sunday morning after five hours of sleep. It had been fun at the club and marvelous dancing with Callie. Just as well that Tina had crashed their conversation and stopped Lauren from suggesting a meal or something equally ridiculous. It had only taken two drinks for her to forget to steer clear of women.
She tossed on her robe, made herself a coffee, and settled in the living room with the phone. She had a ten a.m. phone call with Sam, and she couldn’t be late.
“Here goes nothing.” She dialed.
“Hello?”
The bored sound of her daughter’s voice wasn’t encouraging so Lauren poured on the perky. “Hi, Sammy. How are you?”
“Sammy is a baby name.”
“Sorry, Sam. How are you?”
“You abandoned me. My friends tell me stepparents always ditch the kids after a divorce.”
Sam wasn’t wasting any time on small talk. Lauren’s face burned and her chin sank to her chest as shame consumed her. “I’m more than a stepparent, Sam. I caught you when you were born and helped raise you.”
“You still left me.”
Lauren knew in her heart she had been in the wrong. Sam was only twelve, but she tried to explain. “After the divorce, you wouldn’t see me, and I didn’t blame you. I was deep into a cycle of self-loathing and despair and figured you’d have a better life without me. I’m so sorry.”
“You still left.”
“I’m so sorry, Sammy. I love you and I shouldn’t have gone so far away. But I’m around now, and we can talk whenever you want to. I’m still here for you.”
“Then come home.”
“Toronto’s not home anymore. Saskatchewan is my home now, but you’re welcome to visit as often as you want. My job at PVS, working with farm animals, is great and I prefer the slower pace of life in Saskatchewan. I still work hard, but I’m under less pressure, so I’d have plenty of time for us to have fun. Does that make sense, Sammy?”
“You’re not coming back.” Sam sobbed. “You don’t want me anymore.”
“Please, Sammy, don’t cry. I’ll visit you and you can visit me. I love you. I’m your mother as long as you want me as a parent.” She was the adult, and it was her job to mend their relationship. “I’m sorry I stayed away so long. I lo
ve you.”
“You left.”
Lauren paced her living room. Sam was nearly three thousand kilometers away. She was too far away to do anything, and Sam was sobbing as if she might shatter. “I love you, Sam. I’m so sorry.”
“I got to go.”
“Can we talk again? Sam? Can I call you again?”
“Lauren, it’s T.J. What did you say? Sam’s terribly upset.”
“I told her I loved her and that I’m sorry.”
T.J. sighed deeply. Her exasperation was clear. “Okay. That’s enough fun for today. She needs time.”
“Sorry,” she said but her ex-wife had already hung up.
Lauren dropped into a chair and cradled her head in her hands. Was there a shittier mother in the world? She didn’t think so.
* * *
On Monday morning, Fiona came into Lauren’s office. “Lauren, can you please make a house call to Mrs. Wilma Lawson today? She lives in town.”
“No problem. What’s happening?”
“Her cat, Smokey, is due for her annual vaccinations and Mrs. Lawson’s unable to bring her to the clinic. She seldom leaves the house since her husband died two years ago and she doesn’t drive anymore. Smokey’s almost two years old, so please talk to Mrs. Lawson about spaying.”
“Does Mrs. Lawson have family?”
“Her daughter comes from Saskatoon several times a month to help. She’s allowed time off work to take her mother to the doctor, but not her mother’s cat. We’ve been considering your idea of opening one Saturday a month. If we were open, they could have brought Smokey to us.”
“Saturdays or Thursday evenings. To catch the folks who work Monday to Friday. It worked for us in Toronto.” She hated referencing her old life, but there were definitely positives from it she could use now. It was time to drag PVS into the modern age.
Fiona nodded and gave her a little wave, already turned to focus on something the receptionist said. Lauren shrugged. Fiona was pulled in seventeen directions at once. She remembered those days back in Toronto and was happy to be away from it.
She left her office and entered the pharmacy. She tossed a multipack of vaccine in a cooler and grabbed her medical kit. She always packed extra vaccine in case the cat jumped and she shot the vaccine onto the floor. It was embarrassing, but not as ridiculous as having to return to the clinic to fetch more. She also often vaccinated barn cats for farmers, and she never knew how many cats they would find when she arrived.
Lauren drove across town, taking Val with her to hold the cat.
“How’d the phone call go yesterday?” Val asked.
“It was nice to hear Samantha’s voice. But unfortunately, William wasn’t home.” She had the urge to tell Val more, but she was too full of shame, too tortured by how upset Sam had been.
“Sweet. And how was the conversation?”
“Awkward.”
Val winced. “How so?”
“It’s been ages since I last talked to her. I feel like I don’t know what’s going on in her life. I’m out of the loop.” It was her fault for moving so far away after the divorce. She liked living in Thresherton, but it had a cost.
“But you found common ground, right? She is your daughter.”
“Maybe next time. I was going to tell her about doing a C-section on a cow. She’s watched me do one on a dog before.”
“Perfect. And?”
“I wanted to set up a time for another call, but she wasn’t sure when.” Lauren shrugged. It was a half-truth, but it would do.
“It’s a step in the right direction.”
“I suppose. A tiny one.” Lauren tried to smile. She held tightly to the nugget of hope that she could repair her relationship with Sam. She loved her daughter and wouldn’t give up. Sam hadn’t called her Mom, but she would again, one day. And that hope was something she would hang on to tightly.
When they arrived, Mrs. Lawson ushered them into her home. “Oh, hello, dears. You’re here to vaccinate my Smokey. She’s my sweet kitten and I don’t know what I’d do without her.” The delightful old woman rattled on as they looked for Smokey, moving from room to room.
Lauren found a sleek, solid gray cat basking in the sun in the living room. Val captured it with ease and set it on a table. Lauren examined the animal and administered the vaccine. “Your cat is very healthy.”
“I hate to tell you this, Mrs. Lawson, but Smokey’s a boy,” Val said.
“Is she? Odd. Smokey was a girl last year.”
It was difficult, but Lauren kept a straight face. “Oh?”
“I’m sure Dr. Ian told me she was a girl cat. Oh well, thank you, girls. Please stay for tea and cake.” They headed into the kitchen. “There you are, Smokey. You believed I would come in here and you expect milk now. My Smokey loves me and follows me everywhere. Sometimes she appears in a room before I do. Don’t you, Smokey?” Mrs. Lawson set a saucer of milk on the floor.
Smokey ignored the milk and remained perched on the windowsill. Val peered at Lauren behind Mrs. Lawson’s back and crossed her eyes. Lauren gave a slight shrug in response and walked to the window. This couldn’t be the same cat as the one in the living room; it looked similar, but its build was more slender. She scooped up Smokey and examined the cat. “Smokey is definitely a female. We made a mistake earlier. Sorry, Mrs. Lawson.” Lauren put Smokey on the floor and the cat darted out of the room.
“That’s all right, girls.”
While Mrs. Lawson was filling the kettle, Val caught Lauren’s eye and mouthed, “No way.” Twenty minutes later, after light surface chatter, they got up to leave. At the front door, Lauren discovered Smokey sniffing their boots, and this one, too, looked somewhat different.
Val plucked the cat off the floor and peeked under his tail. “Um, Dr. Cornish, based on his equipment, Smokey’s a boy.”
Mrs. Lawson leaned close to the cat. She settled her glasses on her nose and squinted at him. “How did you do that? You were in the kitchen.”
Lauren watched Mrs. Lawson peer in confusion at her cat. Then she frowned and studied the ceiling for a few seconds. Lauren jogged to the kitchen and glanced inside before running into the living room and then the parlor. She returned and winked at Val. “Mrs. Lawson, how many Smokeys do you have?”
“What do you mean, dear? I have one Smokey, and she’s magic.”
“I found two more gray cats in your house.”
“Oh no, that can’t be.” The elderly woman touched one hand to her cheek.
“Is it okay if we search your house for cats?”
Mrs. Lawson leaned on Val as Val escorted her to the couch. “Of course.”
A gray cat jumped onto the couch and Val petted him. “I’m sure this boy is the one we vaccinated because he has a nick in his ear. I’ll shut you in the living room with him while we hunt for more.”
Twenty minutes later, Lauren opened the living room door. “We found three females and a male, which means you have three girls and two boys. They’re all solid gray which happens when both parents are gray. It’s a recessive gene for—” Lauren stopped when she caught Val rolling her eyes at the irrelevant explanation. “I have extra vaccine with me. Shall I vaccinate the rest?”
Mrs. Lawson nodded. “Thank you, girls.”
“I’ll put a strip of gauze around your first boy’s neck as a collar, so we know who he is,” Val said.
Lauren vaccinated the cats and Val wrote a number, from one to four, with indelible marker in their left ears so she could tell them apart. When Lauren was done, she smiled at Mrs. Lawson. “Mrs. Lawson, please consider spaying and neutering your cats before you have an army of Smokeys.”
“Okay, Doctor. Goodness. It explains why Smokey was always underfoot, doesn’t it?”
“I’ll bring cat collars by after work if you’d like,” Val said. “That way you’ll know which one is which.”
“Thank you, Valerie, but what will I do with five cats?”
A gray cat rolled on her back at Val’s feet and sh
e tickled its stomach. “You’ll have fun thinking up more names.”
On the drive back to the clinic, they laughed with affection at Mrs. Lawson’s magic cat Smokey who was lightning fast and everywhere at once.
“Didn’t she notice how much cat food they ate?” Lauren shook her head, still puzzled.
“Well, since Smokey’s a magic cat, she eats for five and never gains an ounce.” Val squeaked as Lauren poked her in the ribs with a sharp finger. “Hey, quit it.” Val poked Lauren back. “Don’t you think five cats is an army already?”
“I was being diplomatic. My guess is Smokey had a litter. But how could Mrs. Lawson miss kittens?”
“I know her daughter, and she told me they installed a washer and dryer beside the kitchen so her mom didn’t have to go downstairs anymore. Maybe the kittens were in the basement? Her neighbors take her grocery shopping and she has a cleaning service. I’ll bet nobody noticed how much cat food she bought or how much dirty cat litter there was.”
“I’ll ask Fiona to give Mrs. Lawson a group deal on spays and neuters.”
“Good idea. So enough about work.” Val nudged Lauren. “How are you and the delectable Callie Anderson these days?”
“Do you think she’s too young for me?” Something about the baggy coveralls and goofy cap Callie wore in the barn made her look like a kid.
“Well, you are an old woman of thirty-three.”
Lauren poked her. “Almost thirty-four.”
“Stop poking. The answer’s no. Callie’s only about four years younger than you.” Val’s attempt to look innocent didn’t work. “You two looked awesome dancing together last weekend.”
Lauren sighed. “The evening was wonderful for a while. Until Tina.”
“Sorry Tina mauled you. Does Callie know Tina was out of her head with wine, and you never slept with her?”
Veterinary Partner Page 4
