Reinventing Mike Lake (18 page)

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Authors: R.W. Jones

BOOK: Reinventing Mike Lake
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              “Yup, first time.  I loved it.  I hadn’t been on a roller coaster since I was a little girl.”

              “Me too, well, since I was a little boy, not a little girl.”, I had been on a few roller coasters as an adult, but that was more to make a joke then purposely lying about something so trivial.  Leaving me no chance to continue my odd approach at conversation, she took over.

              “So, you mentioned last night you aren’t married?  Have you ever been?”

              The question was innocent and to be expected, but caught me off guard.  Perhaps if I hadn’t been caught off guard I would have continued with my lying, but instead I answered honestly, in full detail.

              “I was married for just over nine years, but my wife died about a year and a half ago from cancer.”  I wanted to look deep into my bottle of beer, but looked up.

              “Awww, I’m so sorry, I can’t imagine,” she said.  It was the first time I had seen Jen have anything other than a smile, or hint of a smile, on her face. 

              “Thank you.”  Before she could say anything else, I asked her if she had been married before.

              “No, I was in a serious relationship, but it turned bad really quickly,” she said, adding that nervous laughter again.  “I had lived in Kansas City my entire life, and for many years was perfectly content with the idea of growing old there with Sam, my ex.  After we broke up, I got in the car and just started driving.”

              “That sounds familiar,” I said.

              “What do you mean?”

              “No, please, I’m sorry for interrupting.”

              She spent a few months in and around San Diego driving up and down the Pacific Coast Highway, stopping for a week or two at a time at many of the different beach towns.  When she was ready to move on from there she headed north, all the way to Seattle.  In Seattle she got an apartment and enjoyed walking around downtown, ducking in and out of bars and restaurants whenever it began to rain.  She liked Seattle, so she decided to stay almost half a year.  She laughed when she told me how clichéd her job was while she was there.  She worked at a coffee shop.  I laughed and said, “When in Rome.”

              She eventually tired of the rain, and the winter had been colder than she had expected, so she traveled to a place where rain and cold weather are rarely an issue – Las Vegas.  She told me that despite being a homebody for most of her life she had always enjoyed meeting people and she knew she would get a chance to do that in Vegas.  She hadn’t expected on getting the job as a bartender at Burger Bar, as her only experience with making drinks came at the café in Seattle.  I bit my tongue, as I could think of two very good reasons she got the job – her personality and her looks were both worthy of a job in Las Vegas.  For some reason I didn’t think her background making lattes in Seattle had factored too much in the hiring process.  She’d been working there eight months now, the transition from coffee to alcohol being easier than she anticipated.

              I asked her if she had always worked in the service industry, but she said no.  In Kansas City, she had been of all things, an accountant.  I had to bite my tongue yet again to not tell her she had to be far and away the hottest accountant in history.  She told me as a child she grew up with a love of numbers and enjoyed math so much she asked her teachers for extra work.  She didn’t want to seem like a teacher’s pet to her friends, so she would sneak back in after they had been dismissed for the day.  She began doing her parents’ bills when she was just 12 years old, finding ways to save her family – parents and a younger brother – a lot of money.  She went to school in Manhattan, Kansas, about four hours from her home, the farthest away she had ever been from home.

              “I’m so sorry, I’ve talked so much!  You must think I’m a blabber mouth,” she said.  I hadn’t thought that at all.

              “That’s perfectly fine,” I said.

              “Listen, I hope you don’t think that I don’t want to hear about you, but I am exhausted from being on my feet all day.  I won’t keep you in suspense and make you wonder if I want to go out with you again.  I want to do this again.  Soon.”

              I was sad the night was ending, but it was already very late, or very early, depending on how you look at it.  Also, I wasn’t sure I was ready to divulge as much information as she had to me.  I was going to need some time to digest the last few hours.  I was already looking forward to our next date and opening up to her like she had done for me.

              Jen took a taxi from the Stratosphere, telling me her place was actually closer there than if we went back and got my car.  Just as our date ended and before hopping in the cab, she came in for the hug.  This time I was ready for it.

              I offered to pay her taxi, but she said, "You don’t have to do that, but with the tip you gave me the other night you sort of are.”  I watched her get in the taxi and flash that smile I was beginning to like so much, one last time before she faded away into the Vegas night.

 

28

              I spent the next couple of days writing in the room, reinvigorated, and hanging out with Bahama.  Bahama hadn’t been on a ride for a while, so I decided to drive her around town.  For the first time in my life, and hers too, we went into a dog bakery.  If you were blindfolded and placed into the middle of this dog bakery you wouldn’t have thought twice before eating a piece of dessert if offered to you.  The Canine Cannoli, Boxer Biscotti, and Beagle Beignets all looked like their human edible counterparts. 

              While I was told they looked like the real thing, I was also told they didn’t taste like the real thing.  Good to know.  Though there was nothing in there that would be considered unsafe for a human to consume.  Bahama didn’t care who or what it was intended for, as she scarfed down one of almost everything.  After taking a couple more for the road, we headed to a nearby dog park one of the cashiers at the dog bakery had recommended.

              When we got to the park, there were a handful of other dogs.  I was slightly hesitant, because most of them were bigger than Bahama, but at the end I figured she’d be fine.  When we first got there she stayed mostly by my side, occasionally going off to meet another dog or two, only to come back.

              The owner of one of the bigger dogs, a man in his 50’s, brought out a brightly colored Frisbee that caught the attention of Bahama.  Almost seeking approval from me, Bahama looked up at me as to ask, “Can I play?”  I nodded, and she was off.

              There were a few benches off to the side of the gated dog park, and I parked myself on one.  After sitting for a few minutes, occasionally petting a wandering dog, my phone rang.  It was Jen.  I answered.

              “Hey Mike, how are you?” she asked, her smile radiating through the phone.

              “I’m good, and you?”

              “I’m good, listen, it turns out that I have a couple of days off unexpectedly because they are training a new girl and I haven’t been there long enough to do that.  I was hoping we can hang out tonight if you aren’t busy?  I won’t bail on you like I did a few nights ago.”

              “Oh, no worries about that at all.  That sounds great.  Where should I pick you up?”

              “I can come to you.  I want to meet Bahama, too!”

              I gave her the address to my apartment, the same address I had forgotten a few nights ago when considering a cab when leaving Burger Bar, with the plan of meeting her in a couple of hours.  Just as I was pondering the thought of having a girl in my apartment for the first time in what seemed like forever, I heard a loud cry.  When I looked up, Bahama was in the middle of a tumble that lasted about ten yards.  When she came to a stop she was holding her right front paw off the ground.

              “What happened?!”  I asked the man who was throwing the Frisbee without trying to sound too panicked.

              “My dog Bruce there somehow got under your dog and when he jumped up for the Frisbee he lifted yours into the air!  I’m so sorry; Bruce would never do anything to intentionally hurt anything.”

              I looked at Bruce, a big burly looking retriever.  He had obvious concern for his new friend Bahama, as he was looking between her and his master.

              “It’s okay, these things happen.  You know a good vet around here?”

              “Yes, Bruce’s vet is up on Sahara, not far from here, I could go with you and make sure you get in right away to see the doc.”

              “No that’s all right…well, could you call and tell them we’re on our way?”

              “Sure thing; I’m so sorry, if you need my information let me know.  Here’s my number.”

              I scooped up Bahama, who hadn’t moved much, other than a few steps only to end up with her right paw off the ground.

              She didn’t seem in pain as I sat her in the back of our car, though I tried to get her to lie down, pressing her backside down lightly to keep pressure off her paw.  She wanted nothing to do with that, instead taking her position between the two front seats, only this time holding one leg off the console.

              The veterinarian was only a mile away, and was easy enough to find.  When we walked in, a 20-something year old nurse acted like she was expecting us, and brought us straight into an examination room.  “Awww, Mr. Tubbs said you’d be coming.  Let’s take a look at the paw.”

              Bahama winced as the nurse lifted up the paw and squeezed it, but didn’t let that stop her from licking the face of the nurse, who didn’t seem to mind.

              “Yeah, seems like something is a little off.  Dr. Sutton will be right in.”

              Bahama wanted to jump off the metal examination table, but I held her in place.  After a few minutes, Dr. Sutton walked in.

              After shaking my hand and introducing himself, he put on gloves and checked her heart rate and temperature.  Bahama didn’t like that much, especially the second half, and temporarily forgot she had a hurt leg.

              “Easy there girl.  Her heart rate is up a little, but her temperature is fine, so I don’t think there is a break, as that can raise the temperature some.  Do you mind if we take some x-rays just in case?”

              Dr. Sutton lifted Bahama and took her to the back, and I sat down on a chair in the office.  I was overcome with thoughts as it occurred to me that this is what my wife had done for a living for so many years.  I had never seen her work, but I always imagined her calm and understanding when it came to her job, mainly because that’s how she was in everyday life.

              “Looks like it’s just a strain.  With a few days of rest she should be okay.  We’ll go ahead and wrap it up, keeping it in place, which should relieve some of her pain.  She probably won’t like the tape, but I’d like to try to keep it on her for at least two weeks.  We’ll also give you a low dose pain medicine.  The pain will get worse for her as the day goes on, so you can probably just get away with giving it to her at night before you go to sleep.  Do you have any questions?”

              “Nope, just glad it wasn’t worse.  Thank you for seeing us on such short notice.” 

              “Oh, we’d do anything for Bruce around here; he’s one of our favorite patients,” he said with a laugh.  Thinking about Bruce’s woeful look after his mishap with Bahama, I imagined him having a hard time at the vet, so I wondered if Dr. Sutton was being facetious with his last statement.  He then added, “The nurse will be right in with the medicine and the bill.”

              She came right in, and I was surprised to see the bill was nearly $400 bucks, but I reasoned it was to be expected because of the x-rays and seeing us on short notice.  Additionally, I had no idea of the price of animal care in Vegas.

              When I handed the receptionist the bill and reached for my wallet with the other she stopped me.  “I guess the nurse didn’t tell you.  Mr. Tubbs told us he’ll take care of the bill.  He felt so bad.”

              “Wow, that’s so nice of him.  Can you please tell him that I said that next time you see him?”

              I had saved about 400 dollars today.  That should be plenty enough for ordering delivery when Jen got to my apartment less than an hour from when we left the vet. 

 

29

              I made Bahama a makeshift doggy bed on the carpet, but of course she wasted no time hopping over to the bed, three legged, and jumping up.  I myself hopped into the shower, two legged, and washed quickly, shaved, and dressed.  Even at my own house I retained my fear of being late, but even after all my worrying, I still had 15 minutes to go before Jen was scheduled to arrive.  I waited at the computer, briefly considering looking up menus of local delivery joints, but hadn’t yet decided if I was ready to eat in front of Jen yet, so instead just sat there.

              At about two minutes after 8:00 she arrived.  After giving me a hug, a hug I was learning to enjoy more and more, she walked in and saw Bahama.  Bahama had sat up but was stuck in an inner battle on whether or not to jump down from the bed, concerned it would hurt her paw.  Jen, seeing her dilemma, walked over to Bahama for their first introduction.

              “Awww what happened to you little girl,” while looking back up to me. “You didn’t tell me she had hurt herself.  What happened?”

              “She had a little mishap at the dog park today with a dog three times her size.”

              “Uh oh!  I guess she’s okay since she’s home already?”

              “Yes, Bruce’s owner was very apologetic and even footed the bill.  It’s just a sprain; she should be back to her old self in a few days,” I told her.

              “I sure hope so.  I know she’s your traveling partner – can’t split up the dynamic duo!”

              “Only thing is I probably shouldn’t go out tonight because we were told she should rest her leg for a few days,” I said slightly hesitantly because I really didn’t want her to leave. 

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