On Call Collection by P D Singer

Author:P D Singer [Singer, P D]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rocky Ridge Books
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

We woke, festooned with more cats than we’d gone to sleep with, to the shrill of Dante’s phone playing the business ringtone. Dante hit the speaker button.

“I’m sorry to call so early on a Saturday, Dr. James,” said the weary voice on the other end. “My husband and dog were in the crash last night.”

“How is your husband doing?” Dante asked, his voice crisp and professional. He rolled out of the bed to check on the dog. I followed him out to the living room where he ran a hand over her head and sides, still listening.

“He’s going to be all right. I need to tell Doctor, uh, Hoyer, too, I suppose.” The sentences were coming slowly. She had to have been up most of the night.

“I can pass the news along, if you like.” The dog staggered to her feet and lapped from the water bowl. The splint on the front leg let her limp the few inches needed.

“Thank you.” Long pause. “What happened to Mitzi?” I thought the dog’s name was Fido.

“She had a broken leg and some cracked ribs. We patched her up already; she’s up and moving, but she’ll need to have wet food only for a few weeks.” Dante lifted the dog’s lip to check the color, healthy pink, as far as I could tell. “She’s doing well. You could probably take her home in a day or two.”

“Thank you. My son will come to get her, then.”

After a bit of critter maintenance—kibbles, glop, walkies, and a gerbil that went from the gerbil tank to the ball python’s, all accomplished in near silence—Dante and I sat on the couch to drink some coffee. It was one of those “made for conversation” moments, though he looked apprehensive over what he might hear. He probably wasn’t expecting what I did say.

“So, are we going to dance again tonight?” I asked, playing my hand over the back of his neck.

“I thought you didn’t want to go to the club.” He set the cup down. The liquid splashed almost over the rim, though it was half empty.

“I didn’t say that. Maybe in a few weeks, after you’ve coached me some more, we’ll go to the club.” I refreshed our cups. “But I liked dancing last night—I want to do it again.”

“Okay.” He looked puzzled, like I shouldn’t be changing my mind from one day to the next. Or like he missed hearing the words that lay between the words. Or did hear them but didn’t believe them. “Even if he might be there?”

“Even if. But when we do go, Dante James—” I leaned over to claim his mouth. “You don’t dance with anybody but me.”

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