About a Dog

by Jenn McKinlay

  “You’re right. Thanks.”

  Mac leaned over and rested her head on his shoulder for just a moment. Gavin rested his cheek on her hair in what Mac took as a gesture of comfort. Then he kissed her forehead and drove on.

  When they pulled into the driveway, Mac hopped out of the cab of the pickup while Gavin reached behind the seat for his medical bag.

  Aunt Charlotte was waiting on the front porch. “Oh, good, you’re here. They’re out back.”

  Gavin joined them on the porch and Charlotte led them into the house, down the hallway, through the kitchen, and out the back door. The backyard spotlight was on and there in its glow were Aunt Sarah and Tulip, standing beside each other in the yard next to a pile of throw up.

  “About time,” Sarah said. She patted Tulip on the head and said, “Mom’s here.” Then she looked at Mac and said, “She’s all yours.”

  “What happened?” Mac asked as she reached down and rubbed Tulip’s ears.

  The aunts exchanged an uneasy look. Gavin crouched beside Tulip. He began to talk so sweetly to her that Mac was momentarily distracted. Tulip was looking shaky and tired but she leaned up against his side and stared at him with her big brown eyes as if she trusted him above all others. Mac got that.

  A movement caught Mac’s attention and she noticed that the sisters were trying to sneak back into the house. Oh, but no.

  “Stop right there,” she said. “What happened?”

  “Shirtless Matthew McConaughey,” Sarah said.

  Gavin looked up from the dog. “Excuse me?”

  Charlotte looked mortified, so Mac decided to spare her from having to explain in front of Gavin.

  “I’ll be right back,” she said. She and the aunts moved up onto the porch. “Explain.”

  “I don’t want to,” Charlotte said. “You’re going to think we’re terrible babysitters and then when you have children you won’t let us watch them.”

  “It’s not our fault the dog clearly has food issues,” Sarah said.

  “Aunt Charlotte, I won’t think you’re terrible,” Mac said. “Since I don’t have babies, let’s not worry about the babysitting thing just yet, okay? Now why is Tulip so sick?”

  Sarah took a piece of cardboard out from behind her back and handed it to Mac. “That’s why.”

  Mac turned it over in her hands. It was the box from the granola bars they kept in the pantry; well, it was the corner of the box at any rate.

  “She ate the box?” Mac asked.

  “The box, the five granola bars inside in their wrappers,” Sarah said. “She was just moving on to the saltine box when we noticed she was gone and caught her.”

  Mac glanced back at Tulip, who was sitting on the grass, staring up at Gavin with adoring eyes while he checked her over. Her tail was thumping on the ground with every nice word he said to her. It was ridiculously adorable and Mac had to look away because for some reason it made her uterus hurt.

  “So, McConaughey’s pecs came on the TV, you two got distracted, she got into the pantry and ate the whole box of granola bars,” Mac said. “That sound about right?”

  “Yes,” Sarah said. “Let’s blame the pecs. It’s always the pecs’ fault.”

  Mac closed her eyes for a moment to calm her mind. “All right, I’ll let Gavin know.”

  “Could you not mention the pecs, dear?” Charlotte asked.

  Mac nodded.

  “Thank you.” Charlotte looked relieved. “Okay, this is too much excitement for me. I’m going to work on my poetry. Good night.”

  Sarah went to follow her sister and Mac said, “Hold up there, Bruno Mars. How did ‘Uptown Funk’ become my ringtone for you?”

  Sarah glanced from side to side as if looking for an escape hatch or for someone else to step forward and take the rap.

  “You had an old-style telephone ringing for my ringtone,” Sarah said. “So lame. I wanted something with a little pep.”

  “And you know how to change a ringtone?” Mac asked.

  “I’m not a Luddite,” Sarah said. “Now go tend your dog and your cute veterinarian.”

  “He’s not—” Mac protested.

  “Sure, he is,” Sarah said. “That’s your dog, isn’t it?”

  “For now,” Mac said.

  “Then he’s your veterinarian, for now,” Sarah retorted. With a toss of her white bobbed hairdo, she strode back into the house, humming her ringtone.

  That was it. Mac was calling her dad tomorrow to find out what the heck was going on with the aunts. “Uptown Funk,” seriously?

  She shook her head and hurried back down the stairs and across the lawn to Tulip and Gavin.

  “Apparently, this happened,” Mac said. She handed Gavin the corner of the box. He took it in one blue gloved hand and turned it over.

  “Well, this explains the foil wrapper in her puke,” he said.

  “Oh, poor baby.” Mac crouched down and reached for Tulip. The dog immediately left Gavin, climbed into Mac’s lap, and leaned against her. Then she licked Mac’s mouth.

  “Blerg.” Mac wiped her lips. “Why is it always on the mouth?”

  “She loves you,” Gavin said.

  Mac rubbed Tulip’s chest and tried not to think about the dog becoming attached to her. “Do you think she’ll be okay?”

  He glanced back at the box. “Yes, there aren’t any raisins or chocolate in these so she should be just fine. If there are any more wrappers inside her, they’ll pass one way or another.”

  “Oh, joy,” Mac said.

  “Are the aunts all right?” he asked.

  “Charlotte is embarrassed, but Sarah is not at all,” Mac said. “I’m not sure what’s going on with her. You know she’s the one who changed her ringtone on my phone? It’s like she’s an adolescent again.”

  “Maybe she’s in love,” Gavin said.

  “What?” Mac gave him a look like he was talking crazy. “She’s seventy-two.”

  “There’s an age limit on falling in love?”

  “No, but . . .”

  Gavin met her gaze and quickly looked away. Mac narrowed her eyes at him.

  “What do you know?”

  “Me? Nothing, not a thing, not one silly little thing,” he said.

  He jumped to his feet and pulled off his latex gloves, dropping them into a ziplock bag before stuffing them into his medical case.

  “Huh,” he said. He looked at his wrist where there was no watch. “Look at the time. Gotta go.”

  Mac kissed Tulip’s head and set her on the ground.

  “Gavin Tolliver, don’t you dare try to evade me,” she said.

  He snatched up his bag, patted Tulip on the head, and strode toward the back door.

  “Call me if Tulip takes a turn for the worse, but truly, I think she’ll be fine,” he said.

  He stepped up onto the porch but Mac was right behind him and closing in fast. Tulip was right at her side, bounding up the steps as if she suspected there was a game afoot. Gavin slid through the back door and hustled through the house.

  “Gav,” Mac said. “I will tackle you to get the information I want. Don’t think I won’t.”

  “Promises, promises,” he said.

  He shot out the front door and down the steps. Mac couldn’t move as fast as she wanted; cursing her high-heeled sandals she slid out the front door leaving Tulip inside.

  She was too late. Gavin was in his truck and backing down the driveway as if a hellhound was chasing him. Mac plopped her hands on her hips and glared.

  “You can’t escape me, Gavin Tolliver!” she shouted. “I know where you work!”

  Gav honked and turned out of the driveway and onto the road, leaving his taillights to wink insolently at Mac as he disappeared around the corner.

  Mac turned around and stomped back into the house. T
his conversation was not over. She hunkered down next to Tulip.

  “What do you think, baby girl?” she asked. “Shall we pop in for a checkup with Dr. Gavin tomorrow?”

  Tulip barked. Then she thumped her tail on the floor.

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Mac said.

  Chapter 18

  As if one of his sheet-rumpling hot steamy dreams had conjured her out of the early morning fog, there was Mac striding down the sidewalk toward him. Gavin resisted the urge to rub his eyes in case he was seeing things. If he was, it was a helluva good way to greet the day, so why mess with it?

  He unlocked the front door to the clinic and stepped on the rubber mat, making the automatic door whoosh open. Without breaking her stride, Mac trotted into the office with Tulip at her side.

  She was wearing mint green Converse sneakers paired with denim shorts and a body hugging pink tank top that about stopped his heart. Her straight brown hair was loose and swayed across her shoulders with each step she took. Tulip pranced beside her, looking up at Mac like she was the sun. Gavin knew exactly how the puppy felt.

  He couldn’t remember a time in his life when seeing Mac didn’t lift him up, make him smile, and make him try harder at whatever challenge he was facing. Man, how he had missed her.

  When he was ten and his mother passed away from a sudden aneurysm, leaving his family shattered, everyone treated him like a little baby who lost his mommy. Pity poured down on him in a suffocating goop that made it impossible to breathe or to grieve. But not Mac; she didn’t try to reduce him to being a baby. She knew, just like he did, that his childhood as he’d known it was over and she never tried to pretend it wasn’t.

  On the day of his mother’s funeral, she was there all day with Jillian and Carly. The three fifteen-year-old girls took care of them all; fetching and carrying, organizing the food, the guests, even the parking. But when the last guest left and everyone was emotionally drained and out of comfort to give, it was Mac who found Gavin hiding out beneath his tree fort.

  She didn’t say a word. She picked up his spare baseball glove and played catch with him until the fireflies had gone to bed, the crickets had packed up their evening symphony, and Gavin’s arm had given out. When he collapsed to his knees and wept for the first time since losing his mom, it was Mac who wrapped him in her arms and held him tight.

  She never said a word. She never made him false promises about how everything was going to be okay. She never diminished his pain by saying she knew how he felt. She just let him cry it out. She never let go and she never pushed him away. And when he fell asleep with his head in her lap, she leaned back against the old maple tree and let him sleep until his father came out around midnight and picked Gavin up and carried him to bed.

  Gavin had never forgotten that night. He wasn’t sure if that was the night he’d fallen in love with her or if it had been as far back as when Emma brought Mac home with her from first grade to play; of course, he had just been a toddler then. Still, it seemed to him that he had been in love with Mac as far back as his memories could take him.

  He crouched low and let Tulip waggle her way into his arms.

  “How are you today, princess?” he asked.

  “Lighter,” Mac said.

  When Gavin looked at her, she said, “She passed the rest of the wrappers this morning.”

  “Ah,” he said. He scratched Tulip’s ears. “Good girl.”

  “This is for you as a thank-you,” Mac said. She was holding two paper cups full of hot coffee and she handed one to him as he rose to his feet.

  The heat of it filled his hand and he looked from it to her. How had she known? His night had been blown to heck by an emergency call from one of his patients who tended to see the specter of death hanging over her cats every time she got overly lonely. He’d been lucky to clock in four hours of sleep last night after that emergency visit that was not, and he was feeling the loss of every minute.

  “I could kiss you for this,” he said. He saw her face grow warm with embarrassment and he thought he might kiss her anyway. “But just so you know, if this is about Aunt Sarah, I am not bribable. I am much more afraid of her than I am of you.”

  “Is that so?” she asked. She gave him a speculative look that was way hotter than it should have been.

  “It’s so,” he said. He took a big gulp of the bitter brew and almost moaned. Life might be worth living after all; then he caught her smile and he knew life was worth living for sure, because Mac was here.

  He turned and led the way into the clinic. The lights were on and the equipment was humming. He glanced at the clock on the wall. Doc Scharff was due in later that morning, thank goodness, because since his ex, Jane, had run off with Carl the bookkeeper, they hadn’t had a chance to hire anyone to take their places, so Gavin was acting as pencil jockey and veterinarian in training and it was getting old.

  He had taken the breakup with Jane pretty hard. Partly because she’d blindsided him by running off with Carl but also because he’d felt like his life was finally falling into place. He’d finished veterinary school, had a cute girlfriend, and was settling back into his hometown, where he hoped to have a family of his own.

  Then poof! She was gone, taking the bookkeeper with her. At first he’d thought it was because he was in love with Jane, because he had cared for her very much, but then Mac came home, and now he was having a hard time remembering why he had been so bummed about losing Jane. When he thought of her and their relationship, he was left with the feeling that it had been . . . fine. But looking at Mac, he realized he wanted so much more than fine, and it was her.

  “Well, it just so happens I have other business with you,” Mac said.

  That got his attention in more ways than one. “Do tell.”

  “I checked my bank account,” Mac said. “You didn’t charge me for services rendered or for all of the stuff you gave me for Tulip.”

  “She’s a stray that you found,” he said. “I’m not going to charge you for fostering a dog. That isn’t right.”

  “Of course it is,” she said. “She’s my responsibility so I need to pay for her.”

  He sat in the chair behind the counter and waved his hand at her. He was not arguing about this.

  “Okay, we can table that discussion, but we will be discussing it,” Mac said. “But since we’re here, I want Tulip to get vaccinated. I’m guessing she didn’t have the best care as a puppy and I’ve been reading up on parvo and distemper. I can’t let that happen to her.”

  “I think that’s wise,” he said. He reached down and rubbed Tulip’s head. “Better safe than sorry. Bring her into the exam room, and I’ll—”

  Whatever he’d been about to say was cut off as three people arrived one after another, looking to have their pets vaccinated. Gavin gestured for Mac to head into the exam room, since she’d gotten there first, but she shook her head.

  “Maybe I can help,” she said.

  She watched what paperwork he gave the first patient and then she joined him behind the counter with Tulip at her side. She muscled him out of his spot at the computer and began to process his patients. Just like that.

  “Go,” she said and gestured for him to leave the processing to her. “I got this.”

  “What about Tulip?” he asked.

  “She’s cool here,” Mac said.

  Gavin stepped away and watched her behind the counter as she greeted the people and their pets. Tulip, sensing they were in for the long haul, circled the floor until she found the perfect spot to lie down with her chin resting on Mac’s feet. The two of them looked just right sitting there.

  Unclear as to what had just transpired, Gavin shook his head and led the first patient into the exam room. He realized his only regret on the whole morning was that he hadn’t taken the opportunity to kiss Mac like he’d wanted to, but then, he reminded himself that he was playin
g the long game.

  He wanted Mac, there was no question in that, but he wanted her to want him, too. For that, he had to be patient and win her affection just like he did with his furry people.

  Before he shut the exam room door behind the mastiff with the runny nose, he glanced at her just one last time. Yes, she looked right here in his world and in his life. Man, at the end of two weeks, he had no idea how he was going to let her go—again. He really hoped he didn’t have to.

  • • •

  Mac glanced at the clock. Emma’s itinerary did not leave her much wiggle room. Today was the day they were supposed to meet the pianist at the church and listen to him play, so Emma could pick the march she wanted for the wedding. Jillian was working and Carly had texted to say she had strained something the night before at dance lessons and was currently lying on an ice pack, so that left Mac.

  Given that it was the same church where Mac had been so unceremoniously, or rather quite ceremoniously, dumped, she wasn’t really looking forward to walking through the arched wooden door to hear the pianist play wedding tunes. Been there, done that. Truly, the only thing she wanted to hear in that space was a dirge. Still, it was for Emma.

  Since she had to be at the church at ten thirty, she figured that would give her the morning to stalk Gavin and coerce him into telling her what he knew about Aunt Sarah’s transformation.

  Mac had noted before going to bed last night that on the website, Gavin’s office hours started at seven in the morning with a one-hour vaccination clinic for walk-ins. She figured she might as well start the vaccination process for Tulip. Since the puppy hadn’t been microchipped and didn’t even have tags on her collar, odds were she hadn’t been vaccinated either.

  The walk through town had been brisk and quiet. Mac had stopped at The Grind, Bluff Point’s coffee shop on Main Street, for a large steaming cup of java. On impulse she picked one up for Gavin, too. She hadn’t even known if he drank coffee but it’d seemed rude not to bring him one if he did.

  In her head, she had justified all of the reasons why she needed to visit Gavin at the ass crack of dawn. But when the doors had opened and she saw him standing there, she knew it had all been a lie.