After Agatha
Agatha was in and out in less than fifteen minutes. As she passed through the reception room, Meghan asked, “Was Dr. Whitely able to help Winnie?”
“I believe so. He gave her something to soothe her tummy.”
Meghan smiled. “Good. Hopefully she’ll be back to herself in no time.”
“Yes, hopefully.” Agatha gave a goodbye nod as she carried Winnie out the door.
Seconds later, Tom Whitely came from the back office.
“It’s good to see you again.” He smiled at Meghan, then squatted to greet Sox. “You too, young fellow,” he said, and lowered his hand for Sox to sniff.
Sox skipped past the sniffing part and went directly to licking.
“He obviously likes you,” Meghan said.
“It must be my bedside manner.”
She smiled and gave a soft chuckle.
Tom looked up at her. She was even prettier than he remembered.
“I’m glad you could make it,” he said. “I hope my running late hasn’t interfered with whatever plans you had for this evening.”
“Not at all,” she replied. “I have no other plans.”
“Good. I mean, good that I’m not keeping you from anything else.”
He stood, gave a nod toward the hallway, and suggested they head back to the examination room. Stepping aside, he allowed Meghan to go in front of him. As she passed by, he caught the scent of something light and fresh, flowery but not overly so. Last time he’d thought she looked great in jeans; now he thought she looked even better in the skirt.
“First door on the right,” he said. From behind her, he pushed the door open and accidentally brushed his arm across her shoulder.
Both of them felt it. Neither of them mentioned it.
Meghan knew she was smiling way more than was appropriate. It was unlike her. She wanted to appear friendly and open, not giddy.
“If I seem extraordinarily happy today, it’s because of knowing Sox is finally mine,” she said. “I know how terrible it feels to lose a dog, so I’d never keep one that belonged to someone else, but if Sox’s previous owner can’t be found or doesn’t come forward . . .”
Tom lifted the dog onto the table, then looked at Meghan and smiled.
“Happy looks great on you,” he said, “and I know exactly what you mean. It’s obvious that you and Sox were meant for each other.”
As he continued talking, he probed Sox’s mouth, checked his gums and teeth, then felt around his ribs and hips.
“The problem is people sometimes pick out a pet the way they pick out a suit or a sofa. They just think about what looks good, but there’s more to it than that. Having a dog, cat, hamster, or any other pet is a commitment, and not everyone is emotionally prepared for it.”
“I have no problem with commitment,” Meghan said emphatically. Then, realizing what she’d implied, a spot of color rose up in her cheeks, and she added, “You know . . . a commitment like taking care of Sox.”
He laughed. “I can see that.”
As he moved through the process of taking the dog’s temperature, checking both ears, and parting the fur to where he could see Sox’s freckled skin, Tom flitted his eyes back and forth from the dog to Meghan.
The examination could have been done in ten minutes, but it was more than a half hour before Tom said, “Well, Sox certainly seems healthy enough, so let’s get a blood sample and then . . . ”
Determined to see Meghan again, Tom said, “Perhaps you could bring Sox back for his follow-up next Friday at about the same time. By then I’ll have his blood analysis, and we can map out a health-care plan.”
“Sure, next Friday is good.”
It seemed he’d finished more rapidly than intended, so they stood there, him on one side of the examination table, her on the other, neither of them eager to leave.
“Emily told me you’ve been bringing the family pets to Dr. Anderson for a while,” he said. “Have you lived in Magnolia Grove long?”
“Only all my life,” Meghan replied with a grin. “My family owns the Snip ’N’ Save, and I manage the magazine.”
“Really?” Tom was impressed. “What a coincidence. With Walter retiring, I’ve been thinking I should do some advertising to introduce myself to the townspeople.”
In reality he’d seen only one copy of the Snip ’N’ Save and taken no more than a minute flipping through the pages, but now he saw this as an opportunity to spend more time with Meghan.
“Let’s get together and talk about setting up a campaign,” he said.
“Sure. Anytime. We’ve got a Preferred Services section where a number of doctors and lawyers run business card ads.”
“That sounds perfect. Since Sox was my last patient of the day, I have some time now. If you’re available, why don’t we discuss it over a cup of coffee or maybe a glass of wine?”
Meghan lifted her lashes and looked directly into his beautiful hazel eyes.
“Wine sounds great.”
The clinic was on the far edge of town, but a few miles away was a restaurant called the Garden. He followed her there in his car, and when she pulled into the parking lot, he pulled in right beside her.
The building was fairly small. Behind it was a grassy courtyard strung with tiny white lights and a scattering of tables, only half of them taken. Tom couldn’t have asked for a better place; the outdoor dining area was casual yet still romantic.
As they settled at a table, he said, “This place is great. How’d you find it?”
Meghan laughed. “The Snip ’N’ Save. Mrs. Bonucci advertises with us.” She looped Sox’s leash over the knob of the chair, then sat and told of how Anna Bonucci opened the restaurant after her husband was killed in Iraq.
“It gave her a reason for living. Anna cooks for the restaurant almost like she’s cooking for family. It’s a fairly limited menu, but no one cares because the food is so great.”
“It’s nice that you know so much about the town,” Tom said. “I’ve never lived in any one place long enough to get to that point.” He fingered his chin and gave a soft chuckle. “Or maybe it’s just that I never really made time. I’ve been here almost a month and haven’t seen much other than my apartment and the clinic.”
“If you want, I could show you around or maybe take you to one of our Chamber of Commerce meetings.”
“That would be great,” Tom replied. He gave a smile of satisfaction and ordered two glasses of pinot noir. Conversation came easily and flowed across the table, bubbling and cascading like the rush of water in a brook. One subject inevitably led to another, and as they sat talking, the sky turned crimson, then darkened.
The shadows of tall pines fell across the yard, and as she told about losing Clancy, Tom leaned in so far it seemed as though their noses might touch. The whole time, he kept his eyes fixed on her face, seeing not only the blue but also the passion of her eyes.
When they finished the first glass of wine, he ordered a second and suggested they stay for dinner. Meghan agreed. There was nothing about Tom Whitely she didn’t like. He had a soft, easy laugh and a way of making even the tiniest fact interesting.
He told of how from the age of six he’d wanted to be a veterinarian. Laughing at his own memories, he spoke of bringing home strays and bandaging legs that had no injuries.
“After Dad’s death, Mom and I moved to a small apartment,” he said. “The building didn’t allow pets, but that didn’t stop me from carting them home. On Saturday mornings, Mom and I would get up early and spend most of the day looking to find homes for whatever animals I’d carried back to the apartment that week.” He laughed and told how the building superintendent knew they had animals coming and going but looked the other way.
“Mr. Sullivan,” he mused fondly. “He was a good man.”
“Were you really young when your dad died?” Meghan asked.
Tom nodded sadly. “It was fourteen years ago. I was twelve at the time.”
In that single moment, Meghan knew he’d loved his daddy the way she’d loved hers.
“I lost my dad, too,” she said. “Almost four years ago. It was the summer before I was supposed to start college. That’s when I took over running the Snip ’N’ Save.”
“That’s quite a responsibility for someone so young . . . ” The solemn sound of understanding was threaded through his words.
She nodded. “It wasn’t what I’d planned to do with my life, but at the time, I felt keeping the Snip ’N’ Save up and running was kind of like keeping my dad with me.”
As she recounted the sadness of that time, he stretched his arm across the table and touched his hand to hers. His fingers were warm and gentle; he folded them across hers in a way that was caring but not possessive. As they moved on to talking of Tracy and Lucas, his hand remained in place, and she made no effort to move hers.
When Anna Bonucci passed by, they ordered the daily special, which was chicken tetrazzini. After only a second bite, Tom smiled and said he could see why she thought the restaurant was so special.
Once the dinner dishes were cleared away, they ordered cappuccinos and continued to talk, not about the clinic or the Snip ’N’ Save but of the things in life that gave them pleasure. Meghan told about her love of writing, and Tom spoke of running.
“That’s the only time my mind is clear of everything else,” he said.
Even as the words came from his lips, he knew running would not clear the image of her ocean-blue eyes from his mind. He took a sip of his cappuccino, then set the cup back in place. Each sip was a thing to be savored because he wanted to make it last. Draining the cup could possibly bring the evening to a close.
It was nearly eleven when Meghan realized they were the last people left in the courtyard.
“Oh, my goodness,” she said, laughing. “I didn’t realize it was so late.”
“Neither did I,” Tom replied. “And we never even got around to talking about my doing an ad in the Snip ’N’ Save.”
When she took Sox’s leash in her hand, Tom casually looped his arm through hers. “If you’re free tomorrow afternoon . . . ”
“I’m not,” she replied, sounding regretful. “I promised I’d take Lucas for the day.”
Seeing the disappointment on his face brought out a boldness she did not normally have. She stopped and turned to him. “I could do any evening next week.”
They settled on Tuesday, and he suggested he’d pick her up at the house.
“Plan on dinner,” he added.
After Meghan loaded Sox into the car, Tom circled around and opened the driver’s side door for her. She climbed in, looked up, and allowed her gaze to linger on his face.
“It’s been a wonderful night,” she said.
“Yes, it certainly has been.” He leaned down, touched his fingers to her lips, and whispered, “Until Tuesday.” Then he closed the car door.
If he had asked her to stay or suggested they sit by the lake and look up at the moon, Meghan would have gladly done it, because Tom stirred something inside her. Something she thought she’d forgotten.
On the drive home, Sox slept on the seat beside her, and Meghan hummed the melody of a song she’d heard coming from inside the Garden. She couldn’t remember the lyrics but believed it to be a love song, one that in time she might come to know.
Probably.