“I use incentive-based learning in my classes,” she said.
“I would like an assessment for your classes. He’s really going to need them.”
She licked her lips before biting the corner of her bottom lip, and her eyes shifted from side to side. I glanced at the beads of sweat along her hairline then focused on her eyes. She was truly nervous. But why? Me? I angled back another step, leaving more space between us and a clearer path to the door. It was as much space as I could offer while holding Pepper Jack, keeping him from escaping.
“I can recommend other training classes in the area.”
“I want to take yours. It’s why I chose this clinic.”
Her gaze rose and finally met mine. “Why?”
“I heard you were the best.” I shrugged. I’d done my research, asking everyone I knew with a dog. Over and over again, Dr. Conroy’s name had come up. I wasn’t going anywhere else or taking any other classes. Pepper Jack and I probably wouldn’t survive without them, and my house would be just a pile of sticks.
“I am the best,” she stated. She wasn’t gloating or being arrogant. It was a simple fact for her.
I grinned. “See. That’s why I want you.”
Her cheeks reddened again at the double entendre. She broke eye contact, grabbed the tablet from the counter by the door, and placed it on the exam table in front of her.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Dr. Conroy.”
“Your first name.”
“You don’t know?” She patted her pockets and turned to grab a stylus from a holder on the counter. She quickly tapped on the screen of the tablet.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know your name. I didn’t catch it on my way in.”
“You can just call me Dr. Conroy.” She clicked the pen, effectively ending the conversation, and turned back to Pepper Jack. She worked through his exam and administered his shots quickly. I stayed silent, watching her work, and lowered him to the floor when she finished. She tried out a few basic commands and walked him on the leash around the room. I answered her questions about his behavior and told her what I’d experienced over the past two weeks. And through all this, even though we were speaking, she didn’t look at me a single time. Not for a second.
“That’s it for today. Everything checks out, and he’s now up to date on his shots. You can check out at the front, and I will leave a list of other training facilities you can call.”
“I’d like to train here.”
“I don’t think that would be wise. You’re not a fit for our classes.” She crossed her arms over her chest and pursed her lips.
“What’s different about Pepper Jack that he can’t join in? He has no training and judging from the state of my living room and my partner’s office, there’s sure as hell behavioral issues.” I leaned down, rubbing Pepper Jack’s head. Sure he had his troubles, but he could fit in in a class. “He’s a good dog.”
“It’s not him. It’s you. You aren’t the fit.”
She spun toward the door to exit. “You don’t even know me.”
“I know exactly who you are, Kiernan. You just don’t remember me.”
2 Caroline
The moment I was accepted to Texas A&M veterinary school, I thought my life would change for the better. It was my moment of escape. The moment I’d dreamed of my entire life. And for a short while, it was sweet bliss to be states away from my family.
I had no idea my sister would soon join me in Texas and my parents would follow her, unable to bear the thought of not being near her. I thought the mandatory family dinners were behind me when I left Tennessee, but when my sister and parents moved to Texas, they resumed. Now they were only once a week instead of daily. I wished I were a person that could stomp my foot down and say no or just be a no-show at dinner. There was always something that stopped me from following through on that.
A desire for their approval, maybe.
A lingering hope that they would finally notice me.
But every accomplishment, every milestone I hit in my personal life or career never seemed to be enough for them. My hands shook as I lifted my glass of ice water to my lips to take a sip from the straw. The ice shifted and the water lowered, creating a slurping noise as I drank. I internally cringed and bit the inside of my cheek, already nodding to the words I knew were coming.
“You were raised better than that. Have some manners and don’t slurp, Caroline. You are not a child,” my mother hissed in a low voice.
“Yes, ma’am,” I answered hollowly and automatically. I took a deep breath and surreptitiously glanced at the watch on my wrist. My sister was late for dinner, and my insides were clawing at my stomach. It was surgery day, which meant I was lucky if I had time in my schedule to stuff a peanut butter cracker into my mouth. I hadn’t eaten since my quick breakfast as I was rushing out the door at six a.m.
“Honey, that is such a lovely color on you.”
Surprised, I laid a hand on my stomach, smoothing down the amethyst-toned shirt, and my lips started to turn up in a smile. When it came to me, my mother was a hard woman to impress, and my entire life, I’d strived to impress her daily. It
