dinner table.
“Georgia,” her father admonished. “How about we not talk about the past? I’m sure that’s not something Em wants to revisit.”
“Thanks, Dad. And no, Mom. It’s not related.”
“I worry, that’s all. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. Again.”
The last word, spoken as a whisper, made Emma’s heart clench. She reached over and squeezed her mother’s hand.“It won’t. I won’t let it. I wasn’t smart before. I’m a lot smarter now.”
“You were always smart,” her dad said. “It’s just . . .” He trailed off. “Well, no sense rehashing the past when I said we wouldn’t.”
“Good,” Emma said, happy to never go down that road again. Instead, she turned to her mother and smiled. “The lasagna is awesome, as usual.”
Her mother turned off her worry face and offered a bright smile. “Thank you. I know it’s one of your favorites. I made extra so you can take some home and freeze it. I know you don’t have a lot of time to cook.”
Emma laughed. “How about no time to cook?”
“Work’s going well, then?” her dad asked.
“It’s going better than I expected. We’ve been busy every day.”
“I figured you would be. I’m not all that fond of the doctors who run the Barkley clinic. No bedside manner. They’re too brusque and businesslike. I think you’ll bring a warmth and love of animals that’s been lacking in this town since Bruce gave up his practice.”
She offered up a wide grin to her father. “Thanks, Dad. I hope so. And speaking of animals, Pokey’s getting fat.”
“He is not,” her mother said.
“He is, too. You need to bring him in and let me look at him. He’s due for his annual exam and shots anyway.”
As her father slipped the long-haired dachshund a piece of his bread, she rolled her eyes. “And that’s why he’s getting so fat, Dad. You know better.”
Her father shrugged. “He doesn’t feel like a part of the family if he doesn’t get to eat when we eat.”
“Then bring his food bowl in here and give him dog food. How many times do I have to lecture you about how damaging it is to give human food to dogs? And how bad will it be for my reputation when my parents parade their over-weight dachshund through town?” She wiped her lips on the napkin and pushed her chair back, then picked up Pokey.
“Ugh. He needs a restricted diet and a lot more exercise.” She turned to her mother. “Bring him in next week?”
“Yes, Doctor,” her mother said with a smile.
“And you,” Emma said to her dad. “Stop feeding him food scraps immediately.”
“She’s mean,” her dad said to her mother.
“She’s right and you know it.”
After dinner she found Pokey’s harness and they all went for a walk. The night was crisp and cool, so she grabbed a sweater from her truck.
Her father had put on a little weight as well, so it wouldn’t hurt him to take Pokey on a walk a couple times a day, though she told him it was for Pokey’s benefit only.
“How’s work?” she asked her mom as they walked behind her dad and Pokey.
“Busy. We have a couple of new clients and some great marketing campaigns coming up, so it’s pretty exciting stuff. But, you know, I’m never too busy that I can’t take you on as a client.”
“Thanks, Mom, but I think I’m okay for now.”
“All right. But if you change your mind, you let me know. I already have several ideas that I think would boost your clientele. What if you did an adoption day at the clinic, in conjunction with the local shelter? They could bring their animals over, and you could provide reduced-fee services for like six months or a year for every animal someone adopts? That way animals get adopted, and you pick up new clients.”
Emma was about to open her mouth to object, but then thought about it for a second. “You know what? That’s a really good idea.”
Her mother shot her a knowing smile. “Of course it is. I’m brilliant that way.”
There was no
“Georgia,” her father admonished. “How about we not talk about the past? I’m sure that’s not something Em wants to revisit.”
“Thanks, Dad. And no, Mom. It’s not related.”
“I worry, that’s all. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. Again.”
The last word, spoken as a whisper, made Emma’s heart clench. She reached over and squeezed her mother’s hand.“It won’t. I won’t let it. I wasn’t smart before. I’m a lot smarter now.”
“You were always smart,” her dad said. “It’s just . . .” He trailed off. “Well, no sense rehashing the past when I said we wouldn’t.”
“Good,” Emma said, happy to never go down that road again. Instead, she turned to her mother and smiled. “The lasagna is awesome, as usual.”
Her mother turned off her worry face and offered a bright smile. “Thank you. I know it’s one of your favorites. I made extra so you can take some home and freeze it. I know you don’t have a lot of time to cook.”
Emma laughed. “How about no time to cook?”
“Work’s going well, then?” her dad asked.
“It’s going better than I expected. We’ve been busy every day.”
“I figured you would be. I’m not all that fond of the doctors who run the Barkley clinic. No bedside manner. They’re too brusque and businesslike. I think you’ll bring a warmth and love of animals that’s been lacking in this town since Bruce gave up his practice.”
She offered up a wide grin to her father. “Thanks, Dad. I hope so. And speaking of animals, Pokey’s getting fat.”
“He is not,” her mother said.
“He is, too. You need to bring him in and let me look at him. He’s due for his annual exam and shots anyway.”
As her father slipped the long-haired dachshund a piece of his bread, she rolled her eyes. “And that’s why he’s getting so fat, Dad. You know better.”
Her father shrugged. “He doesn’t feel like a part of the family if he doesn’t get to eat when we eat.”
“Then bring his food bowl in here and give him dog food. How many times do I have to lecture you about how damaging it is to give human food to dogs? And how bad will it be for my reputation when my parents parade their over-weight dachshund through town?” She wiped her lips on the napkin and pushed her chair back, then picked up Pokey.
“Ugh. He needs a restricted diet and a lot more exercise.” She turned to her mother. “Bring him in next week?”
“Yes, Doctor,” her mother said with a smile.
“And you,” Emma said to her dad. “Stop feeding him food scraps immediately.”
“She’s mean,” her dad said to her mother.
“She’s right and you know it.”
After dinner she found Pokey’s harness and they all went for a walk. The night was crisp and cool, so she grabbed a sweater from her truck.
Her father had put on a little weight as well, so it wouldn’t hurt him to take Pokey on a walk a couple times a day, though she told him it was for Pokey’s benefit only.
“How’s work?” she asked her mom as they walked behind her dad and Pokey.
“Busy. We have a couple of new clients and some great marketing campaigns coming up, so it’s pretty exciting stuff. But, you know, I’m never too busy that I can’t take you on as a client.”
“Thanks, Mom, but I think I’m okay for now.”
“All right. But if you change your mind, you let me know. I already have several ideas that I think would boost your clientele. What if you did an adoption day at the clinic, in conjunction with the local shelter? They could bring their animals over, and you could provide reduced-fee services for like six months or a year for every animal someone adopts? That way animals get adopted, and you pick up new clients.”
Emma was about to open her mouth to object, but then thought about it for a second. “You know what? That’s a really good idea.”
Her mother shot her a knowing smile. “Of course it is. I’m brilliant that way.”
There was no
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