"Why?"
Duke looked at me across the island.
"Because you took a feral cat out of an engine compartment without gloves, Ford. Because you walked across the street with that cat bleeding all over your jacket, and the only place you knew to take it was her. Because I've watched you not sleep in eighteen months, and the only sleeping you've been doing lately is the nights she's been in your house. She opened a clinic. It's empty. You're sitting here eating eggs. That's not the man I know."
He let it sit.
"Also, my mother's spanielisoverdue. So."
"Yeah," I said. "Yeah, alright."
Eight-thirty.
We came down Main on foot, the four of us. Duke had his mother's spaniel on a leash, an old cocker the color of toffee with her ears dragging at her cheeks. Halsey had his cat in a soft-sided carrier under one arm. Mendoza had his terrier in his arms because the terrier was the size of a loaf of bread, and Mendoza had made it clear in the truck that the terrier walked when the terrier felt like walking, which was rarely.
I got the door.
The bell went off.
Astrid looked up from her counter. She had a chart in her hand. She set it down.
She did the math. I watched her do it.
Her eyes went to me. Then to Duke and the spaniel. Then to Halsey, with the soft carrier braced against his chest. Then to Mendoza and the terrier. Then back to me. For a beat, the whole waiting room held still around her face.
She didn't say anything.
She didn't have to.
The smile she gave me wasn't the one from the morning before. It was a smile a woman gave a man when she understood, in the second between looking and not looking, what he had done and why. I was going to think about that smile later.
"Boys," she said. "Welcome to Hartsdale Veterinary."
"Doctor," Duke said.
"Mendoza."
"Ma'am."
"Halsey."
"Hey, Doc."
She came around the counter and crouched at the spaniel. The spaniel licked her chin. Astrid rubbed her under the ears with both hands, and the spaniel sat down on the floor and leaned her whole weight into Astrid's knee.
"What's her name?" Astrid said.
"My mother named her," Duke said. "I'm not telling you in mixed company."
A laugh from Mendoza by the door. Astrid looked up at Duke from the floor.
"Try me."
He told her.
She laughed. A real one.
She took them in one at a time. Duke first because Duke was Duke. Halsey second because he held the cat against his chest like a baby and wouldn't put her down on the table without doing it himself. Mendoza third because Mendoza's terrier had objected to the waiting room situation and wanted out of it more than she wanted out of Mendoza's arms.
