Katie had usurped Magda-May’s husband.
Dr. Cyrus Jules, DVM, the only veterinarian in Piney Creek until she’d arrived.
It had happened completely by accident. She’d known Piney Creek was small, but she hadn’t been prepared for the kind of shunning only a small town can give you until she’d “snatched the food right from their mouths” like the greedy, city heathen she was, as Magda and friends had described it.
Shortly after her arrival and quite by circumstance, she’d met Lizzie Johnson and her old hound dog Roderick, sitting in Lizzie’s parked truck just outside the feed store.
She’d stopped to pet Roderick and noticed he had a rather raspy cough. One that, according to Lizzie, wouldn’t clear up, no matter how many meds Dr. Jules gave her.
Katie’d suggested she bring Roderick by the clinic, free of charge, so she could run a simple test, and Lizzie had obliged. An X-ray revealed old Roderick had an enlarged heart, causing the coughing and gasping for breath.
You’d think she’d reinvented the wheel, if you listened to Lizzie tell the tale of Rod’s improvement with the proper medication. Unfortunately, what had been a simple act of concern for an aging dog that was suffering turned into a redneck version of the Sharks versus the Jets, if Magda-May had the chance to tell the story.
Katie had tread on Dr. Jules’s territory by correctly diagnosing Lizzie’s dog. Nobody remembered the correct part of the equation or that Roderick was breathing better for it. That she was right didn’t matter to the ladies in the Piney Creek quilting circle.
She’d taken business from Dr. Jules. Throw in her restraining order from the exotic animal park along with her checkered past, and she was a dirty bird from the city that’d come to milk Piney Creek residents dry with her highfalutin prices and fancy doctorin’.
Teeny snorted, smoothing the checkered tablecloth under her coffee mug with arthritic fingers. “Magda-May can bite my unwiped rear end. I don’t need her stupid circle or her ugly quilts. She always picks crappy colors for ’em anyway.”
Katie cringed and chuckled all at once. Her aunt’s reality television addiction had created a monster. “Aunt Teeny! Your language. Where do you get this stuff?”
Aunt Teeny snorted. “I’m just expressin’ myself, and I get it from watching all that reality TV. Never let it be said Teeny’s not in the know. As for Magda-May, she’ll be sorry I’m not in on that stupid quilt making. I was the only one with any damn taste.”
Remorse that it had taken her all of a week to leave her favorite aunt friendless and quiltless stung her gut. “I’m sorry, Aunt Teeny. I just couldn’t stand to see Roderick suffer. I didn’t mean to cause so much trouble.”
Teeny gave her a confused look by way of a wrinkled frown. “What bubble?”
I love Aunt Teeny. She can’t hear jack. I never have to worry I’m gonna get caught when I hump Dozer.
Oh, God. There were voices in her head. With Brooklyn accents.
That’s ’cuz I’m from Brooklyn. I got dumped here on the way to Michigan. A family road trip to Michigan. Some family. The jerks.
Katie fought a frightened whimper, jamming her finger into her mouth as Li’l Anthony scampered off up the stairs. Maybe she was just tired.
“Hey, girl, you listenin’? What bubble?”
Now she fought a sigh. Her aunt’s hearing, even with her hearing aids, was questionable. Today, as tired as she was, as worried as she was that not only did she have a paw but she wanted to thin the wildlife population by eating it, she struggled with her impatience. “Not a bubble, Aunt Teeny. Trou-ble,” she said with a purposeful inflection to the word. “I’m sorry I caused you so much trouble.”
“You? Cause trouble? I’d never believe it,” a gruff voice called from the mudroom off the kitchen.
“He has an accent.”
Finally a voice that belonged to someone who wasn’t disembodied.
Katie smirked in her
Dr. Cyrus Jules, DVM, the only veterinarian in Piney Creek until she’d arrived.
It had happened completely by accident. She’d known Piney Creek was small, but she hadn’t been prepared for the kind of shunning only a small town can give you until she’d “snatched the food right from their mouths” like the greedy, city heathen she was, as Magda and friends had described it.
Shortly after her arrival and quite by circumstance, she’d met Lizzie Johnson and her old hound dog Roderick, sitting in Lizzie’s parked truck just outside the feed store.
She’d stopped to pet Roderick and noticed he had a rather raspy cough. One that, according to Lizzie, wouldn’t clear up, no matter how many meds Dr. Jules gave her.
Katie’d suggested she bring Roderick by the clinic, free of charge, so she could run a simple test, and Lizzie had obliged. An X-ray revealed old Roderick had an enlarged heart, causing the coughing and gasping for breath.
You’d think she’d reinvented the wheel, if you listened to Lizzie tell the tale of Rod’s improvement with the proper medication. Unfortunately, what had been a simple act of concern for an aging dog that was suffering turned into a redneck version of the Sharks versus the Jets, if Magda-May had the chance to tell the story.
Katie had tread on Dr. Jules’s territory by correctly diagnosing Lizzie’s dog. Nobody remembered the correct part of the equation or that Roderick was breathing better for it. That she was right didn’t matter to the ladies in the Piney Creek quilting circle.
She’d taken business from Dr. Jules. Throw in her restraining order from the exotic animal park along with her checkered past, and she was a dirty bird from the city that’d come to milk Piney Creek residents dry with her highfalutin prices and fancy doctorin’.
Teeny snorted, smoothing the checkered tablecloth under her coffee mug with arthritic fingers. “Magda-May can bite my unwiped rear end. I don’t need her stupid circle or her ugly quilts. She always picks crappy colors for ’em anyway.”
Katie cringed and chuckled all at once. Her aunt’s reality television addiction had created a monster. “Aunt Teeny! Your language. Where do you get this stuff?”
Aunt Teeny snorted. “I’m just expressin’ myself, and I get it from watching all that reality TV. Never let it be said Teeny’s not in the know. As for Magda-May, she’ll be sorry I’m not in on that stupid quilt making. I was the only one with any damn taste.”
Remorse that it had taken her all of a week to leave her favorite aunt friendless and quiltless stung her gut. “I’m sorry, Aunt Teeny. I just couldn’t stand to see Roderick suffer. I didn’t mean to cause so much trouble.”
Teeny gave her a confused look by way of a wrinkled frown. “What bubble?”
I love Aunt Teeny. She can’t hear jack. I never have to worry I’m gonna get caught when I hump Dozer.
Oh, God. There were voices in her head. With Brooklyn accents.
That’s ’cuz I’m from Brooklyn. I got dumped here on the way to Michigan. A family road trip to Michigan. Some family. The jerks.
Katie fought a frightened whimper, jamming her finger into her mouth as Li’l Anthony scampered off up the stairs. Maybe she was just tired.
“Hey, girl, you listenin’? What bubble?”
Now she fought a sigh. Her aunt’s hearing, even with her hearing aids, was questionable. Today, as tired as she was, as worried as she was that not only did she have a paw but she wanted to thin the wildlife population by eating it, she struggled with her impatience. “Not a bubble, Aunt Teeny. Trou-ble,” she said with a purposeful inflection to the word. “I’m sorry I caused you so much trouble.”
“You? Cause trouble? I’d never believe it,” a gruff voice called from the mudroom off the kitchen.
“He has an accent.”
Finally a voice that belonged to someone who wasn’t disembodied.
Katie smirked in her
Similar Books
