Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

Sam

“You need a pet.” Rory spreads a hand-drawn map on the reclaimed-wood dining room table. We’re at Jacob’s house, and baby Adam is home with my parents. We were supposed to have a fun “sibling night out,” but Rory insisted on playing a game instead.

“I’m not home enough for a pet,” I counter, picking up my empty pie plate so the extensive map can fill up the entire table.

“Which is why a cat would be perfect.”

“I’m gone for twelve hours at a time,” I go on. “Well, more, if you count my commute to and from work.”

“You don’t have far to go,” Mason quips, leaning back in his chair, beer in hand. He enjoyed watching Mom badger me all dinner about settling down and having a kid before I got too old, and he’s going to egg Rory on with pestering me over having something to care for. “And cats are easy.”

“Then why don’t you get one?” I shift my gaze to Mason.

“I’m gone for days at a time, not hours. How could I do that to a poor kitty-cat?” he says, faking innocence. He hasn’t been innocent in well over twenty years.

“He has a good point.” Rory pushes a little silver figurine in front of me.

“I’m not playing D&D with you, you nerd.” I push the figurine back.

“Roll for it?” Rory picks up a twenty-sided die and holds out her hand.

“Fine,” I huff and take the dice from her. “Here’s to me not playing.” I roll the dice on the table.

“Two!” Rory pumps her fist in the air. “You’re so playing now.”

I look at Dean, who’s been rather quiet the whole time Rory set up her maps and drawings for a super thrilling game of Dungeons and Dragons. He wants to play as much as I do but is appeasing Rory, which I respect him for.

“I can get you a cat,” Rory goes on, giving Mason, Dean, and Jacob miniature figurines as well.

“I don’t want a cat,” I shoot right back. I like animals and would love a cat or two so the one isn’t lonely, and dream of the day I can get a dog of my own, but really, I don’t have time. I’m at work more than I’m not, and when I get time off, I tend not to be home.

Because being home all alone is fucking depressing.

“What about a guinea pig or something?” Rory tries.

“You need at least two,” Jacob says without missing a beat. “They get upset when they are alone. It’s instinctual for them to be in a herd.”

“Then I’ll get two,” I huff, hoping to shut my siblings up.

“They need fresh hay and vegetables daily,” Jacob goes on, slipping right into Jacob M. Harris, Doctor of Veterinary Medicine mode way too easily.

“Hey,” Mason exclaims, picking up his figurine. “I’m a chick.”

“Yeah, you are. You said you didn’t want to pick your own character, so I made one for you. Our group needs a druid, so that’s what you are,” Rory goes on. “I already picked out your name, but you can change it if you want.”

Mason cocks an eyebrow, looking at the scantily dressed tiny silver woman. “Can I roll to play with my tits?”

“Ugh,” Rory huffs, rolling her eyes. “You’re lawful good, so no. Though I wouldn’t be opposed to someone killing his character off like right away.”

“Sounds good to me.” Mason puts the figurine down and leans back again, finishing his beer. “Though it’s a little early to hit the bar just yet and that’s where I’m going if my character dies.” He turns to me. “Be my wingman tonight? Not that I need it, but you do. So scratch that. I’ll be your wingman.”

“Tempting, but I’d rather be the dwarf-lord of the Shire or whatever the fuck we’re playing,” I tell him.

“It’s more fun than it sounds,” Dean presses.

“You wouldn’t say that if you weren’t sleeping with my sister,” Mason grumbles. He sets his now-empty beer on the table and nudges my foot with his. “What do you say? You want to go out tonight?”

I shrug. I’d actually like to go out with Mason, kicking back a few drinks and finding someone to spend the night with tonight. Anything to stop thinking about Chloe.

About the way her wet, white t-shirt clung to her tan skin.

Or the way her smile is exactly like I remembered.

And especially the way she looked at me right before she got out of my car and walked up to her dad’s house without so much as a look back.

“We could all go out,” Dean suggests, earning a glare from Rory. “After we get through this first adventure. It is early to be going out.”

“Maybe,” Rory says, looking annoyed. I love my sister, but even she’ll be the first to admit she can get a tad dramatic when things don’t go her way. “But I’m kind of tired to go out.”

“That’s fine,” Dean says quickly, hand landing on Rory’s shoulder. “We can stay in too.”

“You can go out,” she tells him. “I’d like that, actually. I’ll stay with Adam, and you can go out and have some fun.”

Jacob snorts a laugh. “Sick of him already?”

“Hah,” Rory retorts. “No. I’m not at all, but if any of you man-whores would stop and give anyone a chance, you’d get it.”

“Get that we’d settle down and then want our wives to leave?” Mason asks, going out of his way to act confused.

Rory just huffs and shakes her head, but I get her. She wants Dean to go out and have some fun because she loves him. She wants him to be happy, even if it means she stays home and takes care of their baby instead of having a carefree night out with friends. She’s said before she wishes we were able to spend more time together as a family, and I’m the closest to her and Dean in Eastwood, Indiana, but work keeps me busy, and I don’t feel like making the two-hour drive from my apartment to their house on my days off.

My phone rings, and I pick it up off the table. Stacey’s name flashes across the screen, and I silence the call, letting it go to voicemail.

“I thought you said you two broke up,” Rory says, arranging more figurines on her map.

“We did.”

“Then why is she calling?” Everyone looks at Rory. “What?” she asks and then shakes her head. “Obviously I know she wants a booty call. But I thought you were done with her. Like done-done.”

“Oh, he’s done her a few times,” Mason snickers.

“We are done,” I say firmly. “For good. I kind of can’t stand her.”

Rory opens a wooden box with her dice sets and starts to hand them out to us. “You’re just now figuring that out?”

“I couldn’t stand her for a while,” I admit, sliding the bottle of whiskey Mason put on the table over. Rory also brought pewter goblets for us all to use while playing the game to “get us into character” as she put it.

Someone else I know would love the effort Rory puts into D&D, and she’s actually the person who got Rory into this game in the first place. Rory had to be in fifth grade at the time and came home in tears after one of her friends laughed at her in front of the class because she still watched some sort of kiddie show. I can’t even recall the name of the show now, only that it was about magic and dragons.

I blink, and that day flashes before me like it happened yesterday. Jacob and I were throwing a football back and forth, and Mason and Chloe were sparring with wooden swords. Chloe was my friend first, but she got along with all of us, and I know Mason had a massive crush on her for most of his teenage years.

Rory got off the bus in tears, running past the four of us. We all went in after her, and once Chloe found out someone was giving her shit for liking fantasy, she took both wooden swords and asked Rory to tell her where the bullies lived.

Never mind Rory’s three older brothers were standing right there, ready to fuck shit up. But that’s Chloe for you, and my heart swells in my chest at the thought of her protectiveness, both for those she cares about but for not letting anyone make another person feel small for being different or liking something that’s not mainstream.

That night, Chloe invited us all to play D&D at her house. I hung out with friends and this girl I was dating at the time. I didn’t really like her, but she was handsy and I was a horny teenager. Rory went, obviously, and has been hooked on the game ever since.

“So why didn’t you break up with her sooner?” Rory asks.

“She was easy.” I shrug. “And I don’t just mean sexually. She was familiar and lived nearby. It just worked out well.” I pour some whiskey into my goblet and take a sip. “I suppose I wanted to finally end things for a good year before I actually did.”

“I get it,” Dean says quietly, meeting my eyes in solidarity. “Routines can be comforting, even when you don’t like the routine.”

“And that,” Mason starts, grabbing the whiskey from in front of me, “is the reason I’d rather be single. No strings, no routines, no feelings,” he says with a shudder.

“I’ve written your character backstory to make you be a helpless romantic,” Rory tells him and takes her seat at the head of the table. “Come on, let’s get started. Adam might wake up and—”

“And your mom can handle it,” Dean interrupts. “He’ll be fine.”

“I know,” Rory says quietly, brows pinching together. My sister has always been good at taking care of things, and being a mom now has put that into overdrive. Rory closes her eyes for a few seconds and then smiles, looking out at us. “Let’s begin our adventure!”

*

“Is this a good stopping point?” Jacob looks at his phone, brows furrowed. “I have an emergency at the clinic.”

“Um, I guess so,” Rory says. We’ve been playing for nearly two hours and I’m having fun, though I won’t admit it. “Is everything okay?”

“Maybe,” Jacob says, rising to his feet. Pluto, one of his rescue dogs, jumps up, panting as he follows behind. “Assuming my patient can get to me in time.”

“What happened?” Rory asks, eyes wide as she peers over her folders.

“A dog got hit by a car this evening and the owners just found him.”

Rory gasps. “It’s still alive?”

“From what I can gather, yes.”

“Need any help?” I ask. I know squat about treating a dog, but medicine is medicine.

“Actually, yeah,” Jacob tells me. “Until my on-call techs can get in, that would be really helpful. The owners are on their way to the clinic now.”

The clinic Jacob is referring to sits just yards from his house. We can walk to it, crossing a gravel driveway next to a pasture. Once the local vet in Silver Ridge retired, Jacob took over, and three years later opened his own veterinary clinic in a brand-new building on his own property.

“I’ll tell you the amounts of drugs to give,” Jacob goes on as we get up. “We’ll have to knock the dog out and operate right away.”

“I can help too,” Rory says, standing and looking from Jacob to me. “I’m an OR nurse, after all.”

Mason grabs Jacob’s drink and looks at Dean. “Guess we’ll have to take one for the team, stay here, and drink.”

“You can feed the fawn,” Jacob shoots right back. “It’ll wake up soon. The bottle is in the fridge. Heat up water and then put the bottle in.” He shifts his eyes to Dean, who nods, letting Jacob know he’s well aware of how to warm a bottle.

“You need to name him,” Rory tells Jacob, talking about a baby deer someone brought to the clinic just this morning.

“He’s going back to the wild as soon as he’s old enough,” Jacob reminds our sister. “Naming him makes it harder to let go.”

“You’re such a softie,” Rory teases, smiling as she closes her folders. “No peeking at how the game ends.”

Mason rolls his eyes and takes a swig of Jacob’s beer. “Don’t tempt me.”

Dean gives Rory a quick kiss goodbye and the three of us set out, stepping into the night. It’s cool tonight, the air still holding onto the chill from the storm. Lights loom up ahead, and the horses in the pasture next to us stir, nickering softly in hopes someone will bring them food. I grew up with livestock and might have been the reigning 4H Champion in the cattle project for three years in a row.

That life is far behind me now, but it comes rushing back fast. Both Mom and Dad were softies, as Rory put it, and couldn’t say no when Jacob would bring home an injured animal. When I was in fifth grade and wanted a dog, Dad took me to the animal shelter, and we left with three pit bull puppies. We had horses and llamas through my childhood, and in the back of my mind, I assumed I might end up back here whenever I had kids of my own, giving them a similar childhood.

Jacob punches in the security code and lets us into the clinic, flicking on the lights.

“Wow,” Rory tells him, looking around. It’s the first time either of us has set foot in this new building. “It’s gorgeous!”

“Thanks,” Jacob says, hurrying to get into the back. Rory and I might not treat animals, but we get it. The rushed panic that’s more productive than not. It’s like a switch is flipped and you’re in emergency-mode. We start prepping the OR, which is similar in more ways than I thought to the operating rooms I’m used to, though it’s lacking several machines for obvious reasons.

“Can one of you get that?” Jacob asks when someone knocks on the glass doors at the front of the clinic.

“I got it,” I say, carefully setting a set of clean surgical tools down. I’m still in my jeans and a t-shirt, a far cry from what I’m used to wearing when I’m putting my patients to sleep, managing not only their pain but their overall vitals.

Two people stand by the front doors, and a large dog is wrapped up in a blanket, weight supported by both women. I twist back the lock and let them in.

“Thank you so much,” the woman rushes out. Her blonde hair is pulled back in a messy bun, and mascara runs down her cheeks from her tears. “Oh, you’re…you’re not Dr. Harris.”

“I actually am,” I say, helping the two women inside. “I’m his brother.”

“Oh,” the woman says, struggling to hold back tears. “Is he here?”

“Yeah, he’s getting ready for…” I look at the dog, who looks like some sort of golden retriever mix. Blood is soaking through the purple blanket he’s wrapped in, and he’s in bad shape.

“Tigger,” the woman answers, tears rolling down her face.

“Let me help you,” I tell them and take Tigger from her arms, carrying him into the back. Jacob and Rory are in the surgery room. I bring the dog in and lay him on the table. Jacob gets right to work, and I help get the dog put under. The dog has an obvious broken leg and probably a ton of internal damage.

“I can tell you two are brothers,” the crying blonde woman says when I come out of the room. Two vet techs responded to the emergency call, and Rory is staying in to assist if need be. “You look alike.”

“I’m better-looking,” I say with a wink, and she smiles.

“Are you a vet too?” she asks, looking through the window at her dog.

“No, I’m an anesthesiologist.”

“Oh, wow. Lucky you were here.”

“Things have a way of working out like that. I’m—”

“Sam,” the other blonde woman says. She looked familiar right away, but I couldn’t place her. “You’re Sam Harris.”

“Yeah, and sorry, but you are…?”

“Lauren.” She brushes her messy hair back. “We went to high school together. I was a grade below you, though.” Pausing, she waits to see if it sparks any recognition. I slowly shake my head. “I was Lauren Wallace back then,” she says, and the name rings a bell. Lauren Wallace…Lauren Wallace…Lauren…yes, the name is familiar now, yet I can’t remember why.

“Yeah, I got it now. So, uh, how have you been?”

“Good.” She smiles again and inches closer. “I’ve been in Detroit and just moved back and am staying with my sister.” She looks at Tigger’s owner. “I got divorced last year,” she adds. “I’m a single lady once again. What about you?” Her eyes go to my left hand. “Anyone special in your life?”

At the mention of someone special, my mind goes to Chloe and her rain-soaked hair. She is special, but she’s not in my life.

“Sam,” Rory calls, coming to the little window. She waves me in, saving me from having to answer Lauren’s question. I end up changing into scrubs and assisting with the rest of the surgery, fascinated with both the similarities and differences in a dog versus human surgery.

Dean and Mason are sitting in the waiting room when we’re all done, and Rory and I go up front.

“How’s Tigger?” Lauren asks, holding her sister’s hand.

“Dr. Harris,” I say, feeling almost weird referring to Jacob as a doctor when I go by the same name, “said he’s stable. He’ll be out to talk to you soon.”

“Why are you here?” Rory asks Dean.

“We came to check on you,” he replies with a frown. “Nice to see you too.”

Rory rests her hands on his chest. “You know what I mean. Is everything—”

“Adam is fine,” he tells her. “I already called your mom and let her know we got tied up.”

“Thank you.”

Someone knocks on the front door, making us all jump.

“It’s my husband,” Lauren’s sister, whose name I haven’t caught yet, says and gets up. One of the vet techs comes up front at the same time and lets him in, and then waves them back into an exam room, leaving Dean, Rory, Mason, Lauren, and me in the waiting room.

“You still want to go out and get that drink?” Mason asks me and then looks at Rory and Dean. “You guys too?”

Rory shakes her head. “I’m pooped. But Dean, go if you want to.”

“Nah, I’ll take you home,” he tells her, and Rory smiles.

“A drink sounds good,” Lauren sighs.

“You’re welcome to join us,” Mason says without missing a beat.

“I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“You wouldn’t be imposing. At all.” Mason waves his hand in the air. “It’s been a stressful night. You need to unwind.”

Rory catches my eye and shakes her head.

“Oh, I definitely do,” Lauren goes on.

“Do you, uh, need to call the mister and let him know?” Mason asks smoothly.

Lauren pushes her hair back again. “There is no mister…not anymore. I got divorced last year.”

“You hear that?” Mason’s eyes light up way too fucking much. “She got a divorce last year. That must have been so hard for you.”

“It was.” Lauren lets out a small sigh and leans in. “I came back to Silver Ridge to hopefully get things right this time around.”

“Getting a drink is a good way to get the night started off the right way,” Mason goes on. “And like you said, you could really use one tonight.”

Lauren smiles again, acting like she’s thinking it over before she nods. “You’re right. A drink sounds so good right now.”

“Great.” Mason looks at me, mouthing wingman when Lauren isn’t looking. Sighing, I just shake my head. “What do you say, Sam?” He goes on, purposely calling me out. “You’re coming with us, aren’t you?”

I open my mouth to say no, that I want to go back to Jacob’s and play video games. But he’ll be here for a while, staying to check on the dog until the morning. It’ll leave me alone with my thoughts, and when I’m alone, I think about her.

“Yeah,” I say, regretting it already. I need to go and find someone else to regret in the morning too. “I’ll go.