Life Guards in the Hamptons (5 page)

“Having your dog hit by a car is pretty inconvenient, too.”

“Was your dog run over?”

“No, I think he has chiggers.”

“And how long has he had them?”

“A few days, I think.”

“And you waited for now to call? It couldn’t have been much of an emergency, could it?”

If I trusted Little Red to any other vet I’d hang up now. I didn’t. “Damn it, I’ll pay the hundred dollars, just tell me when I can come.”

“That’s a hundred dollars plus the regular fee, of course.”

“I understand already. When?”

“Oh, we put emergencies in as soon as they get here. But the hospital closes at six.”

“Yeah, I heard that five times. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

I made it in ten. The waiting room was empty. The bitch pretended she didn’t know me.

“Yes, can I help you?”

Little Red was shaking so hard in fear I had him wrapped in a towel. That was more to protect my fingers
than to keep him warm. He tended to turn his terror into aggression. I felt like snapping at someone, too: Melissa Kovick, according to the small sign on the front desk. I knew she’d graduated from junior college last May with a diploma in computer science. I guess they don’t teach people skills to technology students. Just read any online manual.

Melissa had straight, swishable, satiny black hair, unlike my short, streaky curls that already frizzed from the ever-present damp sea humidity. Janie at the beauty salon thought I needed the yellow streaks to make me look young and hip. Melissa’s raised lip said I’d need botox and a boob job. At least I didn’t look like an anorexic Afghan hound that hated the smell of its own shit.

“I called about my dog’s sores.”

“Right, the emergency.”

Someone should tell her that her lip might stay curled if she kept sneering. Someone should tell her to go back to school so she had more right to be so arrogant. Or maybe someone should just tell her to go to hell.

I almost drew blood biting my tongue. The little snit was Matt’s niece, after all. “That’s us, the emergency. Red’s records should be here.”

She tapped a folder, to prove her efficiency. And that she did know who I was. “Take a seat. The doctor will see you soon.”

Only if she told him we were here, it seemed. After ten minutes of me trying to convince Little Red he wasn’t going to lose another body part, like he had lost his bad leg and his balls, Matt came into the waiting room. His light brown hair needed a trim, but he looked good in khakis and a navy polo shirt with PHVH embroidered on the chest. The broad, well-muscled chest.

He started to say, “We’re all done, Sissy. You might as well go—” Then he saw me. “Oh.”

First he smiled. A really nice smile, as if he was glad to see me. Lots of even white teeth and crinkly lines around warm brown eyes. Then he remembered me, the weirdo who ruined his life, and the smile slipped away.

“I, um, that is, Little Red has chiggers, I think. And sores from licking at the bites.”

He led me back to an examining room. I unwrapped Red and set him on the high metal table, keeping hold of his harness to stop him from leaping down. “You might want to muzzle him.”

Matt already had a length of black tubing with a noose clip in his hand. “I remember.”

I petted Little Red so I didn’t have to look at Matt to see what else he remembered. Or what he’d been forced to forget.

“So what makes you think he has chiggers?” Matt asked while he carefully unwrapped the gauze I’d put on Red’s front legs.

“Because I have them and he was with me out in the salt marsh a couple of times. And he’s itching frantically, the same way I do, when I can.”

Matt started to put his hand on Red to keep him where he was, but our hands met and he jerked his back. He hated me.

Still, he stepped around the table so I could see his leg when he raised his pants hem. “You mean like these?”

He had the same small red welts I did, only his didn’t look as angry.

Crap, I’d given him parasites, too. At least mine were worse. I pulled my jeans up and my sock down.

“Jeez, that’s horrible!” He cringed and went back to his side of the exam table and stroked Little Red.

“No, some of it’s red nail polish. I forgot to buy clear. It doesn’t work anyway. But yours look almost healed. Did you use the dog flea and tick killer?”

“No, I bought kids’ lice shampoo, like Walter at the pharmacy recommended. Put some on a cloth, wiped my legs, waited ten minutes and showered it all off. Changed the sheets, washed the towels, and done. No more itching.”

“Damn, I wish someone had told me. I’ve got bites up and down my body.”

Matt started wiping Red’s feet with a damp cloth to get rid of the cream I’d put on them. Without looking at
me, he said, “I guess that means I should forget about getting in your pants for a couple of days.”

My cheeks felt as hot and red as a stewed tomato. For sure my brain was as mushy as one. “I, uh, um.” And I thought I could write books.

“Come on, Willow. You knew there was something between us. I know you did. I’d hoped—”

I shook my head, hoping an ounce of sense broke loose. “No, the circumstances made us— That is, made you think there was more than us working together. Unseen dangers, uncertain events. You know, the closeness of comrades in a foxhole. That’s all.”

“You know it was more than that. You got rid of the fireman.”

Piet was staying at my house, not in my bed, no matter what everyone thought and the matchmakers at the Royce Institute wished. And I told Piet to go without a minute’s doubt. Regret, yes, because he happened to be close to a knight in shining—or smoky firefighter’s—armor. Just not this maiden’s knight. “He wasn’t helping. He had to leave.”

“You didn’t have to leave, though. I kept calling. I thought we had something special.”

“I know. I saw the messages when I got here this afternoon.”

“I didn’t have your cell or phone number in New York. I didn’t want to ask anyone here for them and start up a frenzy of speculation. I sent you an email. Why didn’t you reply, or call me?”

Because I felt guilty. “Listen, I messed up. You weren’t supposed to see M’ma.” I remembered Melissa in the other room, most likely listening. “What we saw that night.”

“You mean the fireworks on the beach?”

That was safe, except the dazzling display wasn’t pyrotechnics, it was pyro-beetles lighting up the almost dead whalelike creature that helped hatch them, after he turned into a god. That didn’t make sense even to me, who was right there and ought to be used to such impossible occurrences when the otherworld got involved.
How could Matt understand what he’d seen, or how much trouble he was in for witnessing it? I put him in jeopardy. Coward that I am, I couldn’t face that, or his rejection.

“Did they hurt you? Threaten you? The, uh, town officials.”

“They came to visit me and we had a talk. The mayor, the chief of police, Rick from the boatyard, the barber, your grandmother, some others. We chatted, your grandmother passed out muffins, they left.”

“Oh, God. What was in the muffins?”

“Blueberries. She said Susan baked them.”

That was all right, then. Susan’s cooking could spread cheer or calm or patience when she chose. “But you shouldn’t have seen it. Maybe a firecracker or two, or when the harbor police set fire to the oil slick in the water. Everyone with a view saw that blaze. As for the rest, you must have thought we were all crazy. Me, especially.”

He brought a lighted magnifying glass over to Red’s foot and stared at the sores, dabbing with the cloth. “Listen, I saw what I saw because you granted my wish to see.”

“Not me. M’ma. That is, my neighbors.”

“Half of them right there couldn’t see it. I asked. A lot of the others forgot everything but the fireworks.”

That’s the mayor’s effect, when he remembers his duties to protect the village.

Matt shook his head. “I saw what had been a maggot-covered creature rise up and fly—”

I looked back toward the reception area. “Don’t say anything else, please. You must not.”

“I know. I promised the town elders. And I know how much trouble you got into for letting me stay and watch. But you have to understand, that was the most amazing, earth-shaking experience I’d ever had. I might never understand what occurred, but I’ll cherish it for the rest of my life. Privately, I swear. Not that anyone would believe me if I did tell. I swore to the council to keep it quiet and they accepted my promise.”

Of course they did. The police chief must have lined up every truth-seer in the village. And Grandma Eve might have threatened him some, too, or doctored Susan’s muffins. Paumanok Harbor did not take chances with exposure. “But they didn’t wipe your memory?”

“No, although they led me to believe they could.”

“They could. And they haven’t been mean to you? Ostracized you?”

“Like the locals used to do to the newcomers to town, meaning anyone not born here or related to a native? No, if anything they’ve been friendlier than ever. My practice is so busy I’m thinking of taking on a partner.”

I didn’t believe him. I knew this town and its attitude to outsiders, especially ones who threatened the old secrets. “There’s no one in the waiting room.”

“I take Wednesday afternoons off usually, unless there’s surgery or an emergency.”

“Oh. I’m sorry to bother you, then. But I was worried about Red. He’s so small, and he’s suffered so much already.”

“It’s all right. I understand how these guys get to you. And they can’t tell you where it hurts.”

Well, they could tell my mother, but I wasn’t pushing the issue. How much weirdness could one man absorb?

He sprayed something on Red’s right leg. “He’ll need antibiotics for the sores, but it’s not chiggers. Dogs rarely get them, especially not ones on Frontline.”

“At least you didn’t accuse me of neglecting my dog. I appreciate that. He gets the puppy size one every month. I’ve never seen a tick on him.”

“I’ve seen you cry over a dying creature and I’ve seen you try to rescue injured fireflies. I’d never believe you could neglect an animal. I think that’s what made me lo— Anyway, a flea might have bitten Red before it died. Dogs can get allergic reactions. Or something else could have caused what’s commonly called hot spots. They’re a bacterial infection or moist dermatitis and drive dogs crazy. Sometimes stress can do it, too. Maybe he didn’t like being carted off to the city and apartment life.”

Was that a hint that Matt didn’t like me leaving
Paumanok Harbor? I told the dog how good he was behaving, only growling between his closed jaws.

I told Matt, “He did fine in the city.” I lied.

“I’ll give you some of this spray for the sores.”

He sprayed Red’s other foot, but did not wrap the legs.

“Won’t he lick it off?”

“It’s made to taste bad. Dogs leave it alone. If not, we can put one of those plastic cones around his neck. I try to avoid them. Dogs hate them at first, and bump into things. The air is better for healing than bandages, anyway. I’ll also give you some drops to help him relax.”

“A tranquilizer?”

“Nothing heavy-duty, just a calmative so he doesn’t worry at the sores.”

“My grandmother used to make up something like that for my mother, for the dogs she rescues.”

“Where do you think I got it? If that doesn’t work to keep him from gnawing on himself, we’ll have to switch to prednisone.”

“But he’ll be okay?”

“Sure. Bring him back in a couple of days if he’s not. That is, if you’re here that long.”

Was he fishing for information? Hinting he cared? Or snidely assuming I’d scarper off as soon as I could. “I don’t want to put him back on the bus or in a carry case so soon. And my grandmother needs help.”

“Yeah, I heard it’s a circus out by the farm. Good. And get something for those bites of yours. No, I have half the bottle of shampoo left. If you wait till I make one more round of the kennels, I’ll go across to my house to fetch it.”

“That’s okay. I need some things in town. I’ll stop by the drugstore and talk to Walter myself.”

“Uh, I have a better idea. Why don’t I go with you? That way you’ll see that the townsfolk don’t mistrust me. We can do your errands and pick up my dry cleaning while we’re there. Then maybe we can have an early dinner? Nothing fancy.”

“I’m not staying here long.”

He held up his hand. “Just dinner and dry cleaning. That’s all I’m asking.”

I thought about it. And putting off Grandma Eve for a couple of hours. “Okay, but I have to get back in time to talk to my family, see what they think I can do to help with the traffic.”

We decided I’d go home, get Red settled in, and feed the other dogs. By then Matt’d be finished at the kennel, while the stores in town were still open. We’d meet at the library, because it closed earliest. I wanted to see if Mrs. Terwilliger had any books mentioning the oiaca. And I wanted my own car, so this didn’t count as a date.

“Great,” Matt said. “I don’t like eating alone all the time.”

“What about Melissa?”

“She drives back to Hampton Bays. That’s why I told her to leave early, to miss the traffic.”

But she hadn’t left. She waited at the desk, her purse packed and waiting, tapping a pencil, the possessive little bitch. I bet she had a crush on her handsome uncle, or hero-worship or something. She sure as hell didn’t want to share him.

Or let me go without paying for anything but the antibiotics and the ointment. She scowled when he told her to write off the office visit as a courtesy call.

I wasn’t sure about that either. “But you spent time with us, on your afternoon off.”

Matt waved that away. “You can buy me dessert.”

Miss Priss was fuming by now. “What about the emergency fee?”

Matt smiled at me. “Oh, we always waive the extra fee if it’s a true emergency. I’m not out to rip people off, especially when they care so much about their pets.”

“Do hot spots qualify?”

“Sure. They could lead to infection or loss of appetite, which can be dangerous in small dogs.”

I almost stuck my tongue out at Melissa. Instead I asked her, “Could you hold Red please, while I write the check for the pills and the spray? I don’t want to put him down in case any sick dogs came in earlier.”