Joyce sat in the waiting room of the Perry Veterinary Clinic with Dingo on her lap and the painting she’d given Amanda on the chair next to her. She’d run so fast she’d left it behind. Joyce doubted she wanted it anymore, but she’d brought it nonetheless. She hoped it would remind Amanda of what they’d shared that evening before Barbara and Heather had showed up and ruined everything.
She corrected herself. Before she had ruined everything. She could have said no to Barbara. She should have said no. She’d actually meant to say no, until she’d thought Amanda was ready to meet someone and that introducing her to Heather could help.
She’d never thought in a million years that Amanda could be interested in her. Not with the twenty-four years that separated them. She’d replayed the conversation they’d had at the casino over and over in her mind after hearing Heather say that the only person Amanda was interested in was Joyce. When Amanda had revealed that she’d never believed she could find love before she’d met Joyce, she’d assumed that hearing about her relationship with Evelyn had led the young woman to open up to love, but that was not what Amanda meant at all. As shy as she was, she couldn’t have been clearer that day. She was opening up to the possibility of love because of Joyce. Not because of Joyce and Evelyn, but because of Joyce alone.
Joyce had barely slept since Amanda had run from her house two weeks ago. She didn’t know if or how a relationship with Amanda could be possible. All she knew, all she obsessed about, was that she needed to talk to her, to spend time with her again. If she could only convince Amanda to forgive her, they could figure out the rest together. She saw this visit to the clinic as her last chance to explain herself or at least to persuade Amanda to meet with her so they could talk about what had happened.
A young man approached her in the waiting room. “The doctor will see you now, Ms. Allen.”
“Oh, okay.” Surprised not to see Isabelle, Joyce grabbed the painting in one hand and with her other hand used the lead to guide Dingo. He was doing well enough to handle a short walk. They followed the young man to a different exam room, which surprised Joyce again. Something was definitely off. She let go of the painting only long enough to place Dingo on the exam table and then held the framed art nervously against her chest.
When she saw Doug Perry enter the exam room, she gasped. Amanda was obviously avoiding her at all costs, but she couldn’t give up. She simply couldn’t. “Where is Doctor Carter?”
“She’s not available. I’ll take care of Dingo today. Let’s see that leg,” Doctor Perry explained coldly without even looking at her.
Dingo growled when the veterinarian put his hands on him. No, this would not work. For Dingo or for her.
“If Doctor Carter can’t see us now we’ll wait. She’s been Dingo’s vet through his entire recovery and she promised she’d take care of him until he’s fully recovered.”
“Ms. Allen, Doctor Carter is not available and I can take care of Dingo as well as she can. Matt, will you help me?” His tone was barely polite.
“No!” she said louder. “I’m sorry, Doctor Perry, but that won’t do. I demand to see Doctor Carter.” She hadn’t heard that tone in her voice in so long that she was shocked to find it was still in her. It was a tone she’d always hated, one she’d used in her former life, when she and Evelyn got poor service in stores or restaurant. Demanding to see the manager had almost been a hobby back then. She didn’t miss that now, but she didn’t want to go through this visit with Doctor Perry. She wasn’t acting like a spoiled rich girl who wasn’t getting what she wanted; she was acting out of sheer despair.
“You’re in no position to demand anything here, Ms. Allen.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
She held his gaze, but she didn’t know how long she could keep her defiant attitude when all she wanted to do was to fall to her knees and cry. She heard the door open but didn’t look away from him before she heard Amanda’s voice. “I’ll see Dingo, Doug. It’s okay.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I could hear you and Ms. Allen all the way to my office and we certainly don’t want to disturb our clients and patients, do we? So I’ll take care of Dingo.”
“Okay, but I won’t be far if you need me.”
“Thank you.”
Doug Perry and the young male vet tech left the exam room, but Joyce couldn’t claim she’d won the battle. She’d managed to get Amanda to examine Dingo but her attitude was glacial and she was avoiding any eye contact. She focused all of her attention to Dingo’s leg, conducting her exam without saying a word. Joyce wanted to cry even more now that she was faced with Amanda’s hostility, now that she could almost touch it.
“I brought the painting I gave you. You forgot it the other night.” She risked placing the portrait of Dingo next to its subject on the exam table, where Amanda would be forced to see it.
“You can take it back with you. I don’t want it anymore. I’ll take Dingo to the back with me and we’ll change his bandage. You know where the waiting room is.”
“But I wanted to watch, like the other times.”
“That won’t be possible. Not today, Ms. Allen.”
Joyce watched as Amanda took Dingo into her arms and left the room. How could she convince Amanda to talk to her when she couldn’t even get the woman to look at her? If only Amanda had seen her face. She would have been forced then to recognize her distress. She grabbed the painting and took it back to the waiting room, the harsh reality of the situation beginning to register. She’d lost Amanda.
“That’s a good boy,” Amanda said as soothingly as she could while she removed Dingo’s bandage. Isabelle was holding him on his side on the table. He was more nervous than he’d been every time they’d replaced his bandage before. She wasn’t surprised. He was simply reacting to her own anxiety.
Being in the same room with Joyce had brought her pain back to the unbearable level it had been when she’d run down Garland Street. Doug was right. She was too fragile to be in Joyce’s presence. She couldn’t even look at her for fear of completely losing it.
She hadn’t been able to resist taking a peek at the painting she’d given her that night, however, and it had awakened something different in her. The past two weeks had been all about the torment and suffering caused by Joyce’s mind games and betrayal. In clashing contrast, the painting had brought her back to Joyce’s art studio, to a moment of intimacy she’d cherished. The portrait gnawed at her, trying to convince her that the closeness they’d shared before that damned dinner couldn’t possibly have been nothing more than a game. She closed her eyes and sighed heavily. As much as she wanted to hold on to that hope, she couldn’t risk it.
“Ms. Allen, Dingo’s ready now, if you want to follow me,” Isabelle said in the same friendly tone she always used. Joyce looked at her and wondered if she was oblivious to what was happening. Surely, she had to know she was in the presence of a woman who’d suffered a great loss. A woman who felt utterly and hopelessly empty. “Ms. Allen?”
“Yes, I’ll follow you.” No. She didn’t know anything. How could she? No one could know how the brief friendship she’d shared with Amanda had changed her. She didn’t really know it herself before she’d lost her.
Joyce entered the exam room and, holding the painting against her chest, kept staring at the door where Amanda would appear with Dingo. She looked at Joyce when she entered this time. She even smiled after she put Dingo down on the exam table, but there was no depth behind that smile. It was a polite smile that announced the professional behavior Joyce had demanded. You can’t demand friendship, caring, or forgiveness, Joyce reminded herself. She didn’t smile back. Instead, she felt tears run down her cheeks.
“So, no more splint for Dingo, as we’d planned. We made this soft bandage out of cotton wadding and elastic tape. He needs to keep it on for two weeks. You can let him walk longer now, even run a little, but no jumping yet. Do you have any questions?”
Joyce shook her head and placed the painting on the exam table so she could move Dingo to the floor and clip his leash to his collar. “Antibiotics?” she managed to say as she fought to keep her quiet tears from turning to sobs.
“Yes, Isabelle is getting them ready and is probably waiting for you at the reception desk.”
Joyce nodded and reached for the painting. “I’ll keep it, if you still want me to have it,” Amanda said.
Joyce smiled weakly. “I do.”
“Okay, good. Thank you.”
“I’m so sorry, Amanda. I never meant to hurt you.” Joyce wanted to reach out and pull Amanda into her arms, but she rushed to open the door for her and wouldn’t meet her gaze again. Joyce left without another word. There was no fight left in her.