Page 28 of 10 Rings I Hate About You
Jane shrugged, maddeningly calm. “Knowing your grandmother, she has her reasons.”
I sighed and glanced at the clock. Fifteen minutes had passed. I still needed to check the exam rooms, prep my equipment, and somehow get my brain to stop replaying Delaney’s voice. “I need you to keep an eye on him.” I pointed at the goat. “Don’t let him convince you to let him out.”
Jane raised an eyebrow. “Marc. He’s tiny. I think you’re exaggerating.”
“Tiny things can do the most damage,” I said, glaring at the furry terrorist.
The goat chewed hay and maintained direct and unsettling eye contact.
Jane laughed. “You might want to turn that mood around before our patients arrive.”
“I’m fine.”
She hummed. “Sure. Just keep telling yourself that. And maybe head over to see Delaney later and try being friends.”
I shook my head. She didn’t get it. There wasn’t any way in this timeline where Delaney and I ended up as friends. It wasn’tpossible. We’d be lucky to achieve a shaky truce during this animal yoga disaster.
Delaney’s face flashed in my head again. The way her chin had lifted when she argued. The slight tremor in her voice when she said“this wasn’t just a fundraiser.”
I’d seen her angry a thousand times.
I hadn’t ever seen her nervous. Not like that.
My chest tightened, ribs squeezing my insides like someone had given me a tight hug.
“Bleehhh-maaah ehhh-aaah!”
Jane laughed. “He wants breakfast.”
“Of course he does.” I walked to the back storage room and grabbed a bag of grass hay I kept for the occasional rabbit or guinea pig overnight. It wasn’t goat-specific, but it would do.
I slid a handful through the bars.
He began eating like he’d been starved for a week, and maybe he had been. There was no telling how long he’d been wandering around town alone, terrorizing innocent people.
I should probably call the nearby farms to see if they were missing a livestock gremlin.
The front door chimed, signalling my first patient had arrived.
Jane nodded toward the goat. “I’ll keep an eye on him, but I’ve got to get up front and greet our first appointment.”
“Okay.” As I turned away, she called my name.
“Marc?”
I stopped. “Yeah?”
Her expression softened. “Go easy on Delaney. She’s under a lot of pressure trying to run the business, plus she’s still grieving for her aunt.”
The words landed harder than they should have.
“I know,” I responded quietly. “I’ll try.”
Ididknow, and it made me feel even worse. Delaney had let me see the side of her begging for acceptance, for belonging. And I knew exactly what it looked like when someone walked into a room full of people and tried to pretend they fit in.
I’d been doing it my entire life.
A loud bark echoed from the waiting room—a Labrador with a limp whose owner had called yesterday, her voice cracking in worry.
