Linny's Sweet Dream List by Susan Schild

looked like a school picture, a skinny boy looked oddly formal in a coat and tie, his expression pensive.
    Linny felt a stab of regret. Maybe she and Andy should have had babies right away instead of waiting until his accounting firm was up and running. They were always so practical. Just as he began to make money and work more normal hours, he died. She hugged the puppy, and tried to push away the scary thought that she might never have another chance for love and her own family.
    Dr. Jack stepped back into the room. “He tested positive. We’ll get him started on these.” He held up a pill package. “The dosing instructions are on the back.” The vet glanced at the chart. “I gave him his vaccinations. Ruthie can schedule Roy for a follow-up in three weeks. In two weeks, I’d like you to get him started on preventatives for heartworm and for fleas and ticks. You can get those from Ruthie.” Easing Roy to the floor, he gave him a final scratch. “Be good for your mama.” He handed her the lead.
    â€œRight. Thank you.” Linny was very careful not to touch his fingers as she took it. Her heart couldn’t take two lightning bolts in one day.
    At the door, she paused, turned around and tilted her head toward the bulletin board. “How old is your son?”
    He looked startled, but a smile spread across his face. “He’s eleven. Neal’s a real good boy.”
    Linny smiled back, liking how proud he sounded. Jack Avery was a nice man.
    At the checkout desk, Ruthie tsked as she searched through a cabinet. “I’m sorry, but we ran out of flea and tick preventative for pups his size. Our shipment comes in Thursday. Can you stop by sometime Friday to pick it up?”
    â€œSure.” Linny paid the bill with an iffy credit card, and exhaled as it went through.
    The door to the clinic opened, and a petite blonde sailed in. Built like a Barbie doll, she wore a pink and green paisley dress. A grosgrain hair band held back her white-blonde bob. Her pink ballet flats didn’t look like they’d caved through the bathroom floor of a trailer lately. She spoke in a breathy, little-girl voice. “Hey, Ruthie. Is Jack in?”
    â€œLinny, you dropped Roy’s pills,” the vet called, holding up the box as he walked toward her.
    The blonde intercepted him, touching his arm. “Hey, honey.” She gave him a dazzling smile.
    Jack’s brows knit. “Oh. Hey, Vera.”
    Of course this was the wife. She and the vet were probably high school sweethearts who’d married young, still swooned over each other after umpteen years of marriage, and had a darling son, to boot. Some women just got over-served in the blessing department. Linny tried not to stare, but couldn’t help it. The blonde wife was so perfect—petite, creamy skinned, and polished.
    Ignoring Linny, Vera held up a brochure and tapped it with a neat French-tipped nail. “The information about the after-school enrichment programs came today.” Pushing back a lock of hair, the stone on her left hand sparkled. “Do you have time to take me to lunch? We can make some decisions about which would be best.”
    â€œAll right,” Jack said evenly. He turned to Linny and handed her the wormer pills.
    â€œThanks.” Linny took it and, next to Miss French Tips, felt acutely aware of her own raggedy nails. Stepping back from the counter, she stumbled on the large, pink handbag Vera had set on the floor behind her, and gasped as she felt herself starting to fall.
    Quickly, the vet reached out and steadied her.
    Again, Linny felt the surging charge at the contact with him. She shot him a quick glance and exhaled quietly. Jiminy .
    â€œOh. I’m so sorry.” Vera’s tone was sweet, but her eyes were appraising.
    Linny scurried out, and wrestled wiggle worm Roy back into the car. Despite the oven-like interior, the car suddenly seemed like a haven. She