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While not eating is a universal sign for something being wrong, the equine in question is ancient. She was old when we were young.
“Polly is the reason you’ve stayed in that house, isn’t it? You’ve been taking care of her all these years.”
“What was I supposed to do? No one else would take a horse that old.”
“Oliver would have.”
“Polly can’t be in a herd. They’d be too mean to her.” I think they’d probably leave her alone. At the very least, Ollie would set her up in a paddock where she was safe, but there was really no reason to debate the topic.
Surgeons have a reputation as being cold and heartless, but the stereotype rarely fits. You don’t work hard saving lives without caring, and you don’t deal with patients’ families without developing a sixth sense for when a person is hurting.
I step up to Sunny and pull her against me. Her head falls on my shoulder, and I caress her. Polly is her family, and the worry coming through Sunny flows deep. “Hey, she’s lived a full life.”
Sunny sucks in a breath and nods. Her glassy eyes, filled to the rim with emotion, catch the light pouring through the windows and reflect the skyscrapers in the distance. I hold her close, rubbing my hand along her back, breathing deeply, and loving every single minute of holding my friend close. And I don’t feel guilty for it. Or at least, not that much. She’s not Sam’s anymore.
With a deep breath, she pushes up and pats my chest like a dog. “Thanks for that. I think I’m going to have to take a rain check on movie day.” A hint of a smile plays on her lips. “What is that smell?”
I smell my hands. “Hospital?” She gives me a look that says she’s calling a bluff, but I’m not bluffing. I sniff my pit for a quick check. Nothing. I just left the hospital. “Antiseptic? Hand sanitizer?”
“Chemicals.” That nose crinkles in disapproval.
“You don’t like it?”
“Way too harsh.” She shakes her head. “You need something more uplifting. And at home, something more relaxing. When I come back, do you mind if I bring you some lotions and soaps? Maybe a few candles?”
“As long as you come back, you can bring as much foo-foo as you want.”
“It’s not foo-foo. It’s aromatherapy. It’s important for the psyche. For your aura.”
“If you say so.”
That radiant smile nearly knocks me back. That’s one thing about Sunny, and the reason I first gave her that nickname. She could get the worst news, absorb it, and turn around with a brilliant smile, ever the eternal optimist. The world could use more people like her. No matter what happens in her life, she’ll focus her attention on the beauty in the world. Always.
“Don’t you worry. I’ll fix you up.” She pats me again.Yep, trapped in the little brother cage.
“When will you be back?”
“John said he’d call me about booking a date. We’ll see if he does.”
“Even if he doesn’t, I’d love for you to come back.” I point at my kitchen. “Clearly, I need you.”
And there it is. The brilliant, megawatt smile that hits me right in the sternum. Every. Single. Time.
ChapterFive
Sandra
Polly’s head hangs over the fence, and her loose skin around her nostrils quivers as she whinnies. Her long, speckled, gray ears point forward, intent on my approach.
“Polly girl, are you not feeling well?” She brushes her head against my chest, and I scratch near her ear as she nuzzles my other hand. “It’s not like you to skip meals.”
A milky white appearance glosses over her pupils that, back in the day, were jet black. The vet suspects she sees only shadows. Her once shiny black coat is now heavily salted, and all the whiskers around her muzzle gleam white. She scratches her head up against me, using me like a post as I rub her neck.
“Such a sweetheart.” She smells my pockets, hoping for a treat. “I jumped right out of the car, baby. I’ll bring you some carrots. Is that what you want? Something special? Maybe an apple?”
My phone rings, sending Beatles lyrics across the countryside, and Polly sniffs at the phone as I lift it out of my pocket and read the unknown number.
“Hello?”
