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“I couldn’t stay away even if I tried.” Grant grasped his handshake and pulled his cousin and lifelong best buddy in for a hug. “Now, you going to help me get this turtle out of her tank, or am I going to have to do it all on my own?”
“On the other hand,” Mateo said, closing the medicine cabinet and sliding the tray of meds onto the lower rack of Grant’s cart, “maybe I’m not going to miss you after you leave.”
They strolled over to Hope’s tank and gently lifted the turtle into her transport container before Mateo grabbed the tray of meds and headed off to treat the thriving Shelley. In fact, all of their turtles were thriving at the moment, and a big part of that was due to a certain talented Dr. Lawrence.
“Big day for you, Hope, my girl. Last check-up before we declare you seaworthy. This time next week, you’ll be well on your way to the Bahamas.” He pushed the cart through the sliding glass doors and pivoted in the hall to back through the swinging doors of the clinic. “Or, I hear the Virgin Islands are quite lovely this time of year.”
“Still scheming to win this year’s Great Turtle Race?” Molly grinned at him from the sink where she was washing her hands, and his already sunny mood brightened.
“Options. I’m giving her options.”
“The only option I’m worried about is getting her back into the ocean.” Molly dried her hands on a paper towel and grabbed a pair of latex gloves. “Aren’t you the one who’s always telling me the reefs around here are incredible?” She joined him at the cart and helped him lift the turtle onto the exam table.
“I think the word you’re looking for is showing, not telling. I’m always showing you how awesome our reefs are.”
“My mistake.” Molly kneeled down next to the turtle. “And how is my favorite lady today?” The turtle wiggled her front fins in response.
“She’s the perfect picture of a healthy loggerhead. Her appetite is great, she has tons of energy, and her wounds have all healed. From our end, it doesn’t look like there’s anything holding her back.” Grant gave her the official caretaker report, even though he was fully aware that Molly knew everything there was to know about this turtle.
Molly gently ran her finger along the spot on her leg where one of the cuts had been. “Honey is my new favorite medicine. Who knew it worked so well?”
“How do you know it wasn’t my charming personality that was the key to her speedy recovery?”
She glanced up at him with a disparaging look.
“Fine.” He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms in front of his chest, watching her do what she did best. “We’ll give all the credit to the honey.”
Although, it was no secret that a main contributor to her perfect bill of health was a certain locum vet.
Locum. A Latin word that meant a temporary place-holder, but nothing about her effect on this place was temporary. Her presence here had changed everything. A warmth spread through him.
Molly crossed to the other side of the turtle, examining the other healed wounds. “I don’t even think this one is going to leave a scar. Hope, sweetheart, you’re looking great.”
“Sounds like the kind of good news that’s worth celebrating with a big trip to the Caribbean, don’t you think?”
Molly rolled her eyes and grabbed the doppler monitor to check the turtle’s heartbeat. She slid the monitor against the turtle’s neck just under the shell, and the familiar whooshing sound filled the room. Grant didn’t care how many times he heard that sound, it never got old. Hearing the unique heartbeat of any creature inspired him. It reminded him that life was precious and worth fighting for. It reminded him that what they did mattered.
Molly glanced at him, the smile on her own face seeming to echo his feelings. “It sounds strong.”
“Very strong,” he agreed.
She pulled the monitor off and set it on the counter. “It’s official. She has a clean bill of health. All I need is a weight and I can sign off on her release.”
Grant helped Molly carry the turtle to the scale and they gently set her down.
Molly stepped back, hands on hips, to examine the readout. “One hundred sixty point two. I’d say her appetite has improved.”
“That’s a twentyish-pound gain, isn’t it?” Grant grabbed her chart and flipped through the screens to find her weight track.
“Twenty-four point five to be precise,” Molly said.
Grant finally found the page he was looking for and did the quick math in his head. Molly was exactly right, which didn’t surprise him. When it came to these turtles, she didn’t miss a thing.
She turned to Grant. “That’s it, then? She’s ready for her big release day?”
Grant handed her the chart. “Your signature will make it official.”
Molly pressed some buttons on the digital form, then used her finger to sign the bottom. “I’ve never been so happy to sign a release in my whole life.” She handed the tablet to Grant. “What happens now?”
