I set my phone carefully on the arm of the sofa, like it might explode.“My brother had a lot to say after your visit.What happened?”
She slumped into the chair next to the sofa.“The laceration was at least a foot wide and filthy.Looked like the cow tried to decapitate herself.I clipped it, flushed the bejesus out of it, did a local block—Timothy argued about that—and then I closed it.It went great.Not that he helped much.To him, everything I did was wrong.He picked and picked until?—”
“Until what?”My voice sharpened.“Did he put a hand on you?”
If he had, I’d already be halfway to his place.Tonight.With intent.
She snorted softly.“I’m sure he wanted to when I was done with him, but no.He’s not stupid.”She let her head fall back against the chair.“I’m not a fan of Timothy.Not after everything he did to you in middle school.”
My chest tightened.
“Like when heaccidentallygouged your leg with that knife.”
“Technically, I dropped it and gouged myself,” I clarified.
She continued.“He left you bleeding and hurting.What kind of big brother does that?He should’ve bucked up and driven you to the hospital.Instead, we had to ride bikes.Remember?”
“Yes.”
I realized then that I wasn’t breathing right.Bringing up that story meant she’d been watching him tonight.Closely.
“I didn’t bring up the past.I stayed professional until he wouldn’t stop picking.Then I told him—” She raised her hand, ticking off numbers.“One, he needs to respect you because you’re a damn fine vet, or he loses your help.Two, he needs to pay his bill, or we’re done with his animals.Three, I told him he was wound too tight and needed counseling or a vacation.Probably both.He’s got unresolved anxiety over your brother’s death, plus his divorce, and it’s eating him alive.”
“You said that?”I covered my eyes.Holy shit.
“I demonstrated some good breathing exercises.They help me when I feel stressed.I also suggested he make better use of the wordspleaseandthank you.”
My laughter started in small bursts.“You told my brother to say please and thank you?”I doubled over laughing.“Hang on, I have to text my mom this.”
Josh:Erika just ticked off Tim by trying to explain how to say please and thank you.And suggested he get counselling for his issues.
I added a few laughing emojis.
“What’s the problem?”she asked.
“Nothing.”I swiped the moisture from my eyes.“Timothy said he didn’t want to see you again as his vet.I think he should only see you.”
“No, thank you.”She compressed her lips against a smile.“See, I can use my pleases and thank-yous, unlike him.”
I took her hand and pulled her into my lap.She burst into laughter.“Makes you hard to see me be tough on your brother, doesn’t it?”
“It does.”
A text lit up my phone.I expected it to be my mom.
Erika leaned over and looked.“Who’s Reno?And what’s he doing up at midnight?”
I grabbed the phone, read the text about baseball practice, and turned it off.“Nothing.Forget it.Where were we?”I leaned in to kiss her, but she craned away.
“Give me that.”She hit the screen to make it light up.“He’s asking you to come out for practice this week.They need a catcher.What’s this about?”
“It’s nothing.”I grabbed for the phone which she kept out of reach.
She slid off my lap, my phone still in her palm.“What is this about?”She shook the phone.“Who wants you to play ball?”
“I’m not good enough for that team.”Reno coached an adult league team that played at a semi-pro level.
“What.Team?”she persisted, waving the phone in the air.“Joshua Hurst, who’s asking you to play baseball?Baseball!”Her tone reminded me of my mom.I didn’t like it.
