A Curve in the Road by Julianne MacLean

Author:Julianne MacLean [MacLean, Julianne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781503904453
Publisher: Lake Union Publishing
Published: 2018-08-13T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Dr. Payne’s Victorian home is brightly lit, with lights on in every window, but the clinic is dark. As we pull into the veterinary hospital parking lot, I wonder how often this sort of thing happens, and I hope his family is understanding.

I get out of the car and watch him slide Winston out of the van on a gurney. He hands me the keys to the clinic. “Would you mind unlocking the door?”

“Sure.” I lead the way while he wheels Winston across the paved lot.

A moment later, we enter the treatment area at the back. Dr. Payne switches on the lights and computers. He rolls Winston on the gurney toward a bank of white cabinets and locates what he needs to take a blood sample. Next, he takes Winston into a small digital-imaging room and turns on the x-ray machine.

“Can I do anything to help?” I ask at the door.

“No, I’ve got this,” he replies. “But if you’d like a cup of coffee, feel free to help yourself.” His hands are busy, so he tosses his head to gesture toward a door beyond the row of computers. “There’s a small staff room right through there.”

“Great. Would you like a cup too?”

“That would be great.”

Happy to feel useful, I remove my coat, set my purse down on a chair, and head into a small, newly renovated lunchroom with a stainless-steel fridge, a stove, contemporary white cupboards, and an antique pine table with four chairs. The coffee maker is one of those Keurig machines, so it’s easy to find everything and make two cups.

I peek my head out the door and see that Dr. Payne has already finished in the x-ray room. Winston is resting quietly on the gurney beside him while he sits on a stool and works with the blood samples he just took.

“Dr. Payne, do you take cream or sugar?”

“Black is fine,” he replies. “And call me Nathan.”

“Nathan.”

I return to the coffee maker and brew a second cup, and then I carry both mugs out to the main treatment area and set his down beside him.

“Thanks.” Seeming intensely focused, he takes a quick sip, then wheels his stool to a computer workstation and begins typing. “Would you like to see the x-rays?”

“I’d love to.”

I move closer to stand over his shoulder.

“Everything looks good to me,” I say, bending forward to look more closely. “What do you think?”

Nathan sips his coffee. “I don’t see any issues. But I still want to monitor that infection and see how he responds to the antibiotics. I’d like to keep him overnight.”

“Sure,” I reply. “But . . . should I stay as well?”

“You don’t have to.”

I glance over at Winston on the gurney. “I know, but I’d rather not leave him, and to tell you the truth, I’d prefer not to go home just yet.”

Nathan swivels around on his chair and looks up at me. “Is everything okay at home?”

I don’t know how to answer the question—how to tell him that I’m afraid to face my son because I’m keeping a secret from him and I’m a terrible liar.

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