Janet
I’ve never been the one to give up on anything so easily. It never once even crossed my mind. I guess that’s what happens when your life shifts at an early age; the ground collapsing out from underneath you. I was left with a choice when my parents died. Either fall into the endless pit of despair and let it keep me hostage. Or climb out inch by agonizing inch, hoping to see a glimmer of light at the top.
Over a decade has passed, and yet I still find it easier to pretend in this long game of “fake it til you make it”. I’ve become somewhat of an expert at keeping my true feelings and personal opinions hidden from nearly everyone around me. Maybe that’s why I’m so good at my job. Having to keep emotions and fears in check when helping animals has gotten me this far. I can’t very well break down in the middle of a crisis or an emergency, especially when a beloved pet is involved.
This isn’t to say I’m heartless or a psychopath. I’m as human as they come. Pain isn’t a stranger to me. Sorrow and anguish have been closer companions than some of my oldest friends have. Between the ups and downs, I’ve still managed to have a positive outlook on life. Happiness can be found in the little things, like newborn puppies or reuniting a lost pet with their owner. Living vicariously through other’s happy endings has been my motivation for so long that I don’t know what I’d do if I ever found mine.
Whenever I begin to cross that threshold, a swift reminder of what happened the last time I let my heart fall for someone opens an old wound that I believed had already healed. It wreaks havoc deep in what’s left of my bleeding heart, taking another piece and shredding it.
The sound of a door chime brings me out of my dark rabbit hole, and I quickly refocus my attention on the lab results I was scanning into the computer.
“Welcome to NH Animal Hospital. Who are we checking in this morning?” Julie, our new receptionist, addresses the client walking in with her yellow labrador.
“This is Penny. She’s due for her annual heartworm test and meds,” says the short, middle-aged woman with a bob haircut, trying hard to keep her excited pup from pulling her across the room and climbing onto the counter.
A quick glance at the dog’s eccentric behavior and Julie’s equally enthusiastic sprint from her chair kneeling to meet her, has me stifling a laugh. Julie has a heart of gold and wears it on her sleeve, often creating scenes like this that usually leads to Matt reprimanding and reminding her to uphold a “professional decorum”. Thankfully he’s too occupied with a patient at the moment to witness the spectacle taking place in our front lobby.
Not that he can’t hear it all the way from the back room. I smile at the thought and clear my throat. Julie looks up at me. I shoot her a pointed look and a nod. As if on cue, a door opens and heavy footsteps can be heard coming up the hallway. Julie mouths a ‘thank you’ at me before swiftly returning to her desk chair. A second later, Matthew emerges from the hall, glancing between the client and his rambunctious coworker.
At six foot one, with dark chocolate hair and eyes to match, Matt Bailey’s reputation preceded him. Outgoing, dedicated and easy on the eyes, those who know him respect him greatly. As someone who practically grew up with him, I know what lies under that polite exterior. Stubborn, strong-willed, and set in his ways, deep down he’s still the same free-spirited, mischievous goofball that I met ten years ago in middle school. But like I mentioned earlier, tragedy has a way of distorting even the purest of hearts.
Like me, he shares a similar history of loss and heartbreak. Witnessing first hand the hardships he’s endured, our bond of friendship has withstood every challenge thrown at us, including our shared careers in veterinary care.
Whereas he deals with everything from the smallest cuts and fractures to the toughest surgeries during his internship, I take care of most of the business behind the scenes: running tests, monitoring each patient’s recovery, and occasionally helping assist him with appointments.
Scanning the last sheet of lab paperwork into the system, I gather all of the hard copies and filter them into each patient’s file for safekeeping. Online databases are great, but our WiFi? Not the most reliable all the time. Better to have backup than nothing at all, just in case.
I’m so caught up in the rhythm of end of day tasks that I tune out everything else around me. A gentle nudge startles me back into reality, and I turn to see Matt smirking at me.
“Daydreaming again, Nae Nae? I don’t recall that being in your job description.” He keeps his voice just above a whisper, aware of the way Julie is eyeing us from across the lobby. I ignore the wink he gives me and keep my face neutral.
“I don’t recall flirting being in your job description either, Mattie,” I reply. He wrinkles his nose at the old childhood nickname. He knows I don’t like him using my old nickname at work either. It stirs up unwanted attention from local gossipers, whom I constantly have to thwart all inquiries on our relationship status being something more than just colleagues. Apparently, I’m the only one who doesn’t find it amusing, and he constantly teases me about the idea just to mess with me.
The last time he mentioned something offhand about going out was last year when I’d brought in a rescued stray that my little sister found. At first I thought he was being funny, but there was something in his tone and gaze that made me pause. Of course, I brushed it off as an owed favor for helping me with Gigi.
Long story short, we went out for a casual dinner at the Crescent Moon one night, and there was nothing remotely intimate about it. Ever since then, I’ve silenced the ongoing debate in my head over whether it meant anything or not. The last thing I need is to bring my love life—or lack thereof—into my work life. Matt has enough on his plate without adding my baggage to it. Years of hard work and recovery will not be disrupted by my selfishness. Besides, I buried my heart with the boy I loved three years ago.
“Janet?” Matt’s voice pulls me from being dragged further into that forbidden train of thought. I blink quickly and finish placing the last file back in the cabinet before turning to face him.
“Is there anything else that requires my assistance before I go?” I ask, throwing him a quirky smile.
The frown he returns tells me that he heard the crack in my voice and notices that my smile doesn’t reach my eyes. We’ve known each other long enough and have been through too much to hide anything from each other. Our symbiotic relationship leaves no room for secrets. Even though I’ve mastered the art of hiding and masking, Matt is the only one who ever leaves me feeling exposed. Those rich honey chocolate eyes read me like a book, chipping away at the wall that guards my tightly sealed heart. It pounds anxiously against my ribcage until the intense heat of his gaze melts away, replaced with an amused glimmer as he shakes his head at me.
“No, you’re free to go. Don’t you have plans tonight, birthday girl?”
I gape back at him, amazed that with all the chaos of new patients and multiple spays/neuters scheduled this past week that he still remembers my birthday. I shouldn’t be surprised, really. Matt has always had an incredible memory, even while under pressure. My caught off-guard expression makes him grin wider.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I huff, suppressing the heat rising in my cheeks but failing miserably.
“I’ll see ya tonight!” Matt laughs, taking his leave back down the hallway towards his office.
I roll my eyes at his retreating form, letting out a small sigh. To my absolute relief, Julie was once again preoccupied with another check-in and didn’t overhear our exchange. Not that I cared if she did. It’s just easier keeping things under control this way. Something that seems to be increasingly harder to achieve lately. Without a second glance, I hurry to gather my things before leaving the clinic and drive home to get ready for tonight.
