At Last (The Idle Point, Maine Stories)(59)

Back then it had been about the dogs and cats and birds and livestock who were brought to them for treatment. Doctor Jim had taught her to think first of the animal in her care and let everything else fall into place behind that. The poor man would never have made it through the "Growing A Business" module she had taken just before graduation or her introduction to big city methodologies when she joined the East Side Animal Hospital. She wondered what he would think of the woman she had become.

There would be time enough to find out if she ever managed to corral Pyewacket and start for Idle Point. Pye gave her a run for her money but in the end Gracie won the battle and managed to place him in his carrier over his piteous yowls for mercy. "C'mon, Pyewacket, after all I've done for you..."

Tina clapped her hands over her triple-pierced ears. "You won't have any hearing left by the time you get out of the city."

Gracie latched the carrier door and double-locked it, then gathered up the rest of her things while Pye supplied the soundtrack for goodbyes.

The two women looked at each other then Tina dissolved in tears. "It won't be the same without you at the hospital," she said, as they hugged goodbye. "You were the only real human being in that place."

Gracie laughed despite herself. "I'm a vet, Tina. How big a compliment is that?"

"You know what I mean," Tina said, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "Oh hell." She gave Gracie a big hug. "I'm gonna miss you."

"I'd be happy to stay and have dinner with you and Greg."

Tina gave her a look. "I'm not gonna miss you that much."

Gracie picked up the cat carrier, her gigantic leather tote bag, and her car keys. She repeated the apartment instructions to Tina for the third time. Then, when she couldn't delay another second without risking bodily harm, she said goodbye.

"Safe trip," Tina said from the doorway. "I'll see you in two weeks."

"Maybe sooner," Gracie said. "Depends on how things go with my dad."

But Tina wasn't listening. She had already closed the door. Gracie heard the snap of locks shifting into place as Tina began to get ready for her night with Greg from Admitting.

"Okay, Pye," she said as she started for the elevator. "Looks like there's no turning back now."

Pyewacket wisely remained silent.

"We're going to miss you, Doctor Taylor." Jim, the weekend doorman, helped her load Pye and the rest of her bags into her Jeep. "Won't be the same around here without you."

"I'll only be gone a few weeks," Gracie said. "You won't even know I'm away."

"Nothing like going back home." Jim held the door while Gracie climbed behind the wheel. "I'm from Rockport myself. You eat some lobstah for me, okay?"

Gracie promised that she would and, moments later, she was headed north for home.





#





Idle Point



The white-haired woman in the iron-grey suit fixed him with a stern look meant to scare him into submission then said, "I'm sorry, Noah, but she's a biter."

Noah, who had been thinking about how Mrs. Cavanaugh looked just as old today as she had more than twenty-five years ago when she taught his kindergarten class, leaned forward in his seat. "Would you mind saying that again?"

"I said, your daughter is a biter. We had two complaints about her this week. I'm afraid Sophie has become quite a disruption to the class."

"Sophie's a kicker, Mrs. C., not a biter." He knew that for a fact. He had a bruise on his left shin from the plane trip that was only now beginning to fade.

Mrs. Cavanaugh's expression darkened even more. "I was planning to address the kicking when we finished this part of the discussion. The biting issue is more urgent."

"She's having some trouble adjusting," he said, admiring his mastery of understatement. "The cultural difference and all. Give her another few weeks and—"

"We can't tolerate a biter," Mrs. Cavanaugh cut him off neatly. "The other children have the right to attend class without fear for their personal safety."

"Aren't you exaggerating a little?" he asked, feeling his temper starting to rise. "She's only five years old." Hell, she didn't even have all of her teeth. At least, not that he knew of.