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It’s the same line my mom used to give me when I’d ask for a pet. My heart clenches at my son repeating the words I told him last week when they begged me for a dog. I look back at my dad, nostalgia tapping a rhythm in my chest. He simply smiles at me and holds up the receiver of the store phone, letting me know he’s going to call Corbin to announce our imminent arrival.
As much as I want to ask the boys not to mention this to their mother, I know I can’t. Emily wouldn’t really care about a small cut on Cole’s finger, but she’d be quick to use it against me in court. She’ll do anything to get that settlement number up higher and making me look like a horrible parent, evenafter one of her kids almost drowning happened on her watch, wouldn’t be out of her wheelhouse.
“Here,” I tell Cole, grabbing a napkin from the glove box after pulling my stained shirt from his hand. “Hold this on there.”
“It’s not even bleeding anymore.” Disappointment fills his little voice, and I know it’s because he thinks we won’t go to the vet clinic now.
“Let me see,” Cale demands, grabbing at his brother’s hand.
“Don’t,” I snap, drawing both of their attention.
I could tell by the gleam in both their eyes that they were going to make the wound open back up because the little pain was well worth getting to see the animals.
“We’re still going to have Doc McBride clean it up for us.”
They both smile, Cale releasing his brother’s hand and climbing inside the SUV and right over to his own booster seat.
I swear these boys have more of their mom in them than I’d like.
“We’re here to pet the doggies!” Cale tells the woman at the reception desk the second we step inside.
I give her a quick smile and pull him closer, nodding an apology to the woman who’s standing at the counter, holding a tiny dog that looks about ready to shiver right out of her arms.
“Can we pet that doggie?” Cole asks, holding his injured hand with the napkin wrapped around it in her direction.
The little dog growls, making my son frown.
“It’s just a tiny cut,” he says to the dog as if it understands.
I just love the purity of children.
“Chase Woodson,” the woman says. “I heard you were back in town.”
I pull Cole even closer when he ignores the warning the dog has given him twice now.
Cale, as always, is quicker to read the atmosphere around him and keeps his distance.
“Yes, ma’am,” I tell her. “How have you been, Marlene?”
“Can’t complain. The rain last week and the sunshine this week have made my pole beans double in size.”
“Can we expect some of those down at the store in the next couple of weeks?”
Marlene owns the Fresh Quest Grocer, the only local store we have to buy groceries because Lindell would never allow something like Whole Foods or a Super Target anywhere near their city limits. Something convenient like that would be far too progressive for our little town.
“Fingers crossed,” she answers. “Now, I have to get Mr. Happy back home. I have a raid at two.”
I nod at her, still surprised every time I remember that despite her age, Marlene is an avid online gamer.
“We have Cale here,” the woman says when I step up to the counter.
“Cole,” I correct.
Dad thinks he’s slick, pretending to get the boys mixed up. He always says it’s because he doesn’t get to spend enough time with them, but they’re fraternal twins not identical. To me, they look nothing alike, and I know Dad can tell them apart too. He just enjoys a quick dig at my absence as often as he can do it.
“Exam room one,” she says, pointing to the door number with a big dog paw on the door.
Before I can wrangle the boys who have gotten distracted petting a Husky puppy, I watch as the door to exam room two opens up.
