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“What happened?” My voice is reminiscent of a screech as I hold out my hand to take Cole’s. It’s covered in blood.
“We were playing,” Cale says, his little voice coming out on a sob even though he’s not the one hurt.
“Magic isn’t supposed to hurt,” Cole whimpers.
“Magic?” I ask, pulling his hand closer and wrapping my shirt around it. I wipe away the blood only for it to bloom once again.
“We were doing the magic sawing act.”
“Jesus,” I mutter, knowing if my mother were here, she’d know what to do, right after walloping me across the back of the head for the blasphemy. “No moreTom and Jerryfor you two.”
The magic trick they’re talking about is something they saw on an episode of my childhood favorite show that we watched earlier in the week.
“What happened?” Dad asks as he joins us.
“Magic,” Cole mutters, his twin brother still crying.
“You’ll have to practice harder. I don’t think you’re supposed to bleed,” Dad says, his words completely unhelpful.
“I need to take him to the hospital,” I say, picking Cole up and cradling him in my arms.
“Is he missing part of his finger?”
“No,” I tell him.
His calmness makes me crazy. It’s how he treated every injury I had growing up.
Getting hurt is part of growing up,he’d tell me as he made a makeshift bandage from a shop towel and electrical tape.
Obviously, I’m not the same type of parent.
“He doesn’t need the hospital, and Doc Ellis is out of town on vacation,” Dad supplies unhelpfully as I walk Cole toward the front counter so I can grab my keys.
“All he needs is a bandage,” Dad says. “But if you insist on him being seen, there’s no sense in taking him all the way to town.”
Townis what rural people around here call any place larger than Lindell. The town he’s referring to right now is Austin. It’s the place with the closest hospital.
“Take him to see Doc McBride.”
I snap my head up at him at the suggestion.
“He’s a fu—freaking vet,” I growl. “I can’t take my child to a vet.”
“Can we pet the doggies?” Cale asks, picking now to come out of his sorrowful fit.
“It’s a minor wound, Chase. Calm down. I’ll give him a call while you’re driving over.”
Cole’s tiny hand, the uninjured one, presses to my face, urging me to pay attention to him. “Do we get to pet the doggies, Daddy?”
Dad tilts his head in satisfaction, knowing exactly what he did by mentioning the vet’s name.
Corbin McBride runs the local vet clinic, but he also runs an animal rescue, which out here in rural Texas sometimes ranges from dogs and cats to opossums and orphaned raccoons. With there being limited things to do around here, I made the mistake of taking the boys out to his rescue facility so the boys could see the animals. It’s the closest thing to a zoo as I could get without driving all the way into town.
“On one condition,” I tell him, ignoring the grunt Dad makes for winning the argument. “You boys can’t beg me for a dog like you did the last time.”
“Really?” Cale asks, ready to argue. “Why not?”
“Because two animals in the house are enough,” Cole answers, making me smile as he refers to himself and his brother.
