They sat in the tiny break room together and ate donuts, drank coffee, and went over the appointments for the day.
“You have a full day, Dr. Emma,” Rachel said.
“Really? That’s great.” She wanted to leap up and pump her fist in the air, but that would be so unprofessional.
“Doc Weston always had a full waiting room.” Leanne licked donut icing off her fingers. “Everyone was disappointed when he had to close so suddenly. So were we.”
“No kidding,” Rachel said. “Leanne and I were lucky to hook up with the Barkley clinic on the north side of town after Doc Weston closed, but Barkley sucks.”
“Understatement,” Leanne said. “The doctors there are dicks.”
Emma would not smile about that. Really, she wouldn’t.
Leanne nodded. “I’ve been spreading the word about the reopening. It’s like Field of Dreams, honey. People will come.”
Emma let out a hopeful sigh. “That’s so good to hear.” She wanted to be busy. She needed to fill this place up with clients.
Since Dr. Weston had retired six months ago, the clinic had been closed and Hope residents had to go to the other clinic for animal care. Bruce Weston had been a wonderful veterinarian. He’d taken care of Emma’s terrier Soupy and her collie Max when she’d been a kid and she’d loved him, had always been eager to come here and look at all the pictures of animal breeds on the walls of the exam rooms, check out the charts and the models of the insides of dogs and cats. She’d been curious and he’d always been willing to answer her questions. Besides her utter love of animals, Dr.
Weston had been one of the primary reasons she wanted to become a veterinarian. He was kind, patient, and had taken just as much care of the owners as he had of the animals.
She’d been sad to hear about his heart surgery and subsequent retirement, but happy for him now that he and his wife Denise were moving closer to their grandchildren in Colorado. She’d been ecstatic that he’d been amenable to her buying out his practice. It had taken a whirlwind trip from South Carolina back here so she could meet face-to-face with him to iron out the particulars once she’d found out his practice was for sale. He’d been generous in his price and had helped her work out the loan details so she could get it done.
Maybe her luck was finally changing.
At six forty-five they cleared out the remnants of donut nirvana and Rachel, ever efficient, booted up the computer, while Emma and Leanne set up the rooms and instruments, ready for the first patients to start rolling in.
And did they ever. The first clients started coming in as soon as they opened the doors at seven. The clinic offered drop-off service for people on their way to work in Tulsa. Since they were on the main road leading to the highway, it was convenient.
People could drop off their animals, Emma would diagnose and treat them throughout the course of the day, and their owners would pick them up on their way home from work. She charged a minimum boarding fee to house them for the day.
By eight o’clock, the appointment customers started piling in and Emma reacquainted herself with the people in her town. She’d been so busy renovating the clinic, updating inventory, and working with her staff since she’d come home that she’d had no time to visit with anyone. She wished she’d had a chance to see her sister, but Molly didn’t come home. Ever. Period. If she wanted to see her little sister, she had to first track her down, since Molly was as mobile as they came, and then fly or drive to whatever location Molly called home that particular month.
They talked on the phone at least once a week, and that would have to be good enough for now.
At the moment she had her hands full with a hundred and forty pounds of very exuberant Newfoundland, who was happily slobbering on her neck as she performed an exam.
“He’s very healthy, Mrs. Lang,” she said, as she and Leanne wrangled King, who was determined to play with them. He stuck out his tongue and slurped her face.
Good thing she appreciated dog drool.
“He’s eating my pear tree. Bits of bark at a time.” Mrs. Lang did not look happy.
“Do you take him out for walks? How big is your backyard? Do you have other dogs for him to play with?”
“King is our only dog, and the yard is small. And, well, he’s kind of a lot to handle.
It was my husband Roger’s idea to get him.” Mrs. Lang looked mournfully at King.
“He was such a cute little puppy.”
Many people thought puppies were so cute. The problem was, cute puppies often grew into giant dogs. Like King. “He needs exercise and stimulation. There’s a great park over on Fifth. Does he walk on a leash?”
“Yes. Very well. I made Roger take him to those classes.”