Practice Makes Perfect (12 page)

“What did he do?” Marcus asked. Everyone at the Center was well acquainted with his dog’s antics. “Make hanky-panky with the pup next door?”

Ian said, “No, he got hit by a car.”

o0o

IAN’S THROAT felt as if somebody had stuffed a sock in it. Dimly he was aware of comments, questions. “. . . so sorry...is he all right...do you need a ride...?”

“I’m fine. I’m heading over to the vet’s. My neighbor uses the same... Look, I’ve got to go.” Abruptly turning from the table, he strode to the exit. Gripping his keys so tightly they dug into his hand, he pushed open the heavy mahogany door and took the steps two at a time to the parking lot. He reached his car and tried to unlock the door, but his hands trembled so badly he dropped his keys.

“Son of a bitch.”

“I’ll get them.” Paige.

He braced his arms on the hood and briefly closed his eyes. He didn’t want her to see him like this, but he couldn’t move. In his periphery, he watched her kneel, rummage around under the car and stand up, clasping the keys.

He reached for them.

She brushed his hand away. “I’ll drive you there.”

“That’s not necessary. I—”

“Forget it, Ian. I’m going with you and I won’t ride with you driving in this condition.”

Damn it, he didn’t want her meddling. “I’m fine,” he said.

“And I’m the Queen of England.” She nodded to the car next to his. It was her BMW. Unlocking the passenger side, she said, “Get in.”

He did, then she circled the car and slid into the driver’s seat.

Once they were on their way, she asked, “How is he?”

“He’s alive. That’s all my neighbor knew. I called the vet but just got voice mail.”

Paige squeezed his arm. “I’m sorry, Ian.”

He was glad she didn’t offer platitudes. As doctors, they both knew the fragility of life. He stared out the window. Finally he said, “He hates the leash. He’s always bucking any kind of restraint. The porch is big; it seemed okay with him. It’s screened in and I put all his favorite toys out there.” His hand fisted and pounded on his knee.

“It sounds like a nice environment.”

“He wanted to come with me tonight. He scratched at the screens and whimpered when I left him.” Ian could still hear the sound. “I thought...I thought I latched the door. Must be I didn’t. I was in a hurry. I wanted to see you...” His voice faded off.

“This isn’t your fault.”

“I must have not locked the door.”

“Scalpel the Magnificent was bound to figure out how to get out of there eventually.”

He smiled at her term. Another long silence. Then he said, “I know he means too much to me.”

“No. Don’t say that.”

“Derek and I have talked about it. My parents gave us these dogs on our thirtieth birthdays.”

“No wonder they’re so important to you.”

Paige swerved into the animal hospital parking lot and shut off the engine. Ian bounded out of the car and raced to the entrance. Paige was right behind him Once inside, the door slammed and the doctor called out, “Ian, is that you? We’re back here.”

Ian tracked the voice through the reception area to the treatment rooms, and Paige followed. When he reached the doorway of the one with a light on, he froze. Scalpel was stretched out on a table. From where Ian stood, he could see the dog was covered with dirt; there was blood on his lower body and one of his front legs was twisted.

And he wasn’t moving. Oh, God.

Ian gripped the doorjamb. “He isn’t...is he?”

Dr. Sonya Thompson, owner and operator of the animal hospital, looked up. “He’s alive, Ian, but it doesn’t look good.”

Ian drew in a deep breath. He felt Paige grasp his arm. He looked at her, and whatever she saw in his face made her slide her hand into his. He gripped it, then turned back to the vet. “Can you do anything?”

“His leg is broken. I’m going to set it as soon as the nurse gets here. I’ve taken an X ray and, miraculously, there aren’t any internal injuries.”

“But...”

“He’s unconscious. I haven’t even sedated him”

Ian wavered a bit, and Paige leaned in close for support.

“As you know, it’s not uncommon. Trauma to the body makes it shut down. Still, it worries me.”

He nodded. There was noise outside the office. “My nurse is here.” Sonya looked at Paige. “You two can wait in the reception area.”

Paige said, “Sure,” and tugged on Ian’s arm.

“Just a minute.” He let go of her hand and crossed to the dog. Up close, it was worse. There were cuts on his face and a lump the size of a golf ball near his eye. Gently Ian ran his fingers over Scalpel’s snout, down his ear. “You’ll be all right, buddy. I promise. Dr. Sonya’s going to fix your leg. I’ll be outside.” Leaning over, he kissed Scalpel’s head. “Get better. Please.” His voice broke on the last words.

Paige took his arm and drew him to the doorway. When they reached the waiting room, she led him to a chair and sat him down. Bracing his elbows on his knees, he leaned over and buried his face in his hands. He could feel Paige’s soothing touch on his back, but they didn’t talk. After a while he sat up and looked at her. “I feel foolish.”

“Why?”

“You’re probably thinking I’m making too much of this. That he’s only a dog.”

“No, I’m not, Ian. Scalpel’s more than a dog to you. He’s your friend. And your parents gave him to you. He’s a connection to them. It’s all right to feel bad.”

The corners of his mouth turned up. “You’ve got a great bedside manner, Doc.”

She smiled. “There’s a coffeepot over there. Want me to make you some?”

“Yeah, that would be great.” She stood and started to cross the room. He grabbed her hand. “Paige?”

“Uh-huh?”

“Thanks for doing this. Driving me here. Staying with me.”

She said, “You’re welcome.”

Then, like a little boy needing assurance, he asked, “He’s going to make it, right?”

“I hope so, Ian.”

They’d waited forty-five minutes before Sonya came out. Ian stood up with a start. “How did he do?”

“He made it through the surgery, but he’s still unconscious.”

Ian slumped.

“His vitals are good, though, and he’s resting.”

“What happens now, Sonya?” Paige asked.

“I’ll keep him here. See how he fares.”

“All night?” Ian’s voice was strained.

“Yes. We’re set up for that. The night nurse is on call for these kinds of things.”

“Can I stay?” Ian asked.

Sonya shook her head. “That’s not a good idea. I have your cell number.”

“I want to stay.”

The vet looked at Paige. They exchanged a wordless message.

Paige stood. “Come on, Dr. Chandler. They can call you if there’s any change.” Softly she whispered, “You can’t stay here, Ian.”

Ian’s shoulders sagged. “All right.”

She fished in her purse, took out one of her cards and a pen. “Give me the number.”

Hoarsely Ian recited the number and asked, “Can I see him before I go?”

“Sure.”

The women accompanied him back to the treatment room. Scalpel lay on the table as still as death. Ian approached his pet. His head was cocked like it always was in sleep. The rise and fall of his chest was his only movement. There was a clumsy cast on his leg. Ian fingered it. Then he brushed the dog’s face with his knuckles and murmured a silent prayer to any canine deity that might be listening.

When he drew back and approached Paige, she was staring at him with an odd expression on her face.

o0o

PAIGE GLANCED across the seat of her BMW. Ian was in the passenger side, head back, eyes closed. For as long as she lived, she wouldn’t forget how those sculpted cheeks had been wet when he’d turned around and left his dog. Her insides had melted like butter in the sun.

She reached out and shook his arm. “Ian, we’re here.”

Opening his eyes, he looked around, then saw her and remembered. “I must have dozed off.” He squinted through the windshield. “Why are we at my house?”

“I still didn’t think you should drive.”

“How will I get to work tomorrow?”

“I’ll pick you up.”

Making no move to get out of the car, he glanced at his watch. “I wonder how he is.”

“They’ll call. You’ve got your cell phone turned on.”

He stared up at his condo, which loomed big and empty. “I, um, you don’t by any chance want to come in, do you? It’s only nine o’clock.” He gave her a sheepish look. It broke her heart.

Dangerous, she thought. It was very dangerous getting close to this man, caring about him. But she wouldn’t let him face his house alone tonight. “For a while, sure.”

In the foyer of his condo, Paige looked around. The entryway was spacious with skylights in the cathedral ceiling and beautiful wooden floors that extended to the left into a great room. It, too, was large, complete with fieldstone fireplace, stuffed leather couches, bookcases and long, narrow windows. There were more skylights in there. “Wow, this is beautiful.”

Setting his keys on a low table, he smiled sadly. “My mother helped me decorate it.”

Elsa had been such a part of his life. He’d lost her, as well as his dad, whom Paige could tell he’d been close to, and now he might very well lose the dog they’d given him

She squeezed Ian’s arm. “You’ve had a lot of loss in the recent past.”

His look said,
Not Scalpel, too
. “Come on in.” He ushered her into the spacious room. “Sit down. You want a drink?”

“No, thanks.”

“Me, neither.”

“What do you want to do?”

“I want to run.”

A quick glance at the window, then she said, “I’ll go with you.”

He scanned her outfit—a sleeveless pink shell and flowered skirt to match. He’d commented on it at Rascal’s. That seemed like days ago. “You aren’t dressed for it.”

“I’ve got sneakers in the car. Think you can scrounge up something to fit me?”

“Maybe.” Again, the male perusal. It was good to see the old Ian return.

In the guest bathroom, a huge area decorated in greens and browns, she changed into the shorts he’d provided, which, he’d told her, had shrunk in the dryer. Still she needed pins to hold them up. His navy T-shirt felt soft and smelled like him

When she exited the bathroom, she found him in gray fleece shorts and a tank, standing at the entrance to the screened-in porch. His hands were fisted on his hips, causing his biceps to bunch.

“I couldn’t tell about the lock.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“He
liked
it out here.”

She studied the porch. It ran the length of the condo, had a sitting area at one end and plenty of space for a dog at the other. “He’s just like you, Ian. He’s got a mind of his own.”

Pivoting, he looked at her. His gaze was intense. “Thanks.” He scanned her outfit. “I have to say, Ms. Jock, you look mighty good in my clothes.”

She grinned. “Save it for one of your girlfriends, Mr. Glib and—”

Before she could complete the name, he supplied, “Gorgeous? Mr. Glib and Gorgeous.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m glad you’re not conceited. Let’s go.”

Twenty minutes later they were running along the bike path by the river. The water’s soft rush, and the moon’s glow was soothing. Though jogging wasn’t a favorite activity of hers, swimming had kept her in good aerobic shape.

“They staying up okay?” Ian asked about her shorts. He wasn’t even breathing hard.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Damn,” he said.

When they got back to the condo, they entered through the kitchen and Paige nodded at the stove. “I’m going to make you something to eat.”

“You can cook?” he asked, bracing himself against the wall and extending his leg to stretch.

“I cooked for Jade all the time.”

“Yeah?” He glanced over his shoulder at her. “Do some stretches, so you don’t tighten up. That is, unless you want me to massage your muscles.”

“No thanks,” she lied, and placed her arms on the wall.

“When’s she coming?”

“Tomorrow night.”

“You excited?”

His muscles strained against the cotton across his back. His legs, like his taut abdomen and slim hips, were perfectly formed. “Yeah,” she said dryly, “I’m excited.”

o0o

AFTER OMELETS and toast and a glass of chardonnay, they went into the living room. Ian sank down on one of the couches, which had a low table in front of it. “Wanna help me with my puzzle?” he asked, nodding at the jigsaw.

“What is it?” she asked.

“This dynamite little golden retriever. It was Scalpel’s turn to pick out the picture.” She heard the slight crack in his voice.

So she sat down next to him. For an hour they worked on the puzzle. “Jeez, you’re a whiz at this.” He frowned, apparently displeased that she’d gotten two or three pieces to each of his.

“What can I say?”

His gaze strayed to the phone. “She’ll remember to call when he wakes up, right? Like I said.”

“She’ll remember, Ian.”

“Will she call if he...?”

“You said you wanted to know anything right away.”

Abruptly standing, he moved away from the table to the window, where he stared out. “You know, I picked this place because it was quiet and safe for him.”

“I’m sorry. Where did it happen?”

“He made it out to the expressway.”

A road on which cars traveled more than seventy miles an hour. What were the chances of the dog surviving that? Paige patted the couch. “Come sit.” She picked up the remote. “Let’s watch TV.”

“You can go home, Paige. You probably have early appointments.”

Again she patted the couch. “Come on.” She flicked on the television. “What do you like?”

“Westerns. Scalpel prefers Lifetime Television for Women.”

She laughed. He came to the couch and they both sat back, their shoulders brushing. A romantic comedy was on. Sinking into the sofa cushions, Paige let herself relax. Lulled by the hectic day and the low murmur of the TV, her eyes began to close. She felt something go around her shoulders. Then soft cotton against her cheek. Her hand came up to rest on his chest. And the world faded away.

o0o

A RINGING DISTURBED his sleep. He didn’t want to move. Paige was lying next to him, all warm and cozy, her face buried in his neck. His hand cradled her head. She snuggled deeper into him, and he was instantly hard.