Chapter Text
Shit…shit…shit.
That one syllable played on a loop through Myka’s mind, a perfect mirror to the rhythm of her tires slowly crunching across the snow that had suddenly and quite unexpectedly blanketed the road between New York and her final destination, a middle of nowhere town in the absolute middle of nowhere of Connecticut.
She fought to keep her eyes on the road, reminding herself that it would do absolutely no good to end up in a ditch somewhere all because she couldn’t stop glancing in the rearview mirror every two seconds.
A rough sigh, followed by an unmistakable groan emerged from the backseat, drowning out the sound of the radio, the car, Myka’s own thoughts, if only for a few moments. She eyed the road carefully, the snow was letting up. She gripped the wheel tighter with one hand, while angling the other behind her to reach for the big pile of fluff and fur in the backseat. She found what felt like an ear, rubbing the velvety fur between her fingers, murmuring quietly, “We’re almost there…I promise.”
Shit…shit…shit.
It had started about an hour outside of the city, once the traffic had given way to open roads. At first she had thought Trailer was just trying to get settled, unable to find a good place of comfort in the backseat. He kept standing, panting slightly, before seeming to lie down, only to pop right back up and begin the pattern all over again. Myka told herself it was because they hadn’t had a long car ride in awhile, living in New York City didn’t exactly provide for ample road trip opportunities, but then, once the snow had started falling, the shuffling had turned to sounds of discomfort, followed by the sound of what could only be her dog unpleasantly tossing up his lunch in the backseat of the car. She had pulled over at the nearest rest stop, only mildly concerned at first, Trailer had had problems with motion sickness when he was a puppy, so this behavior wasn’t entirely abnormal and he had perked up once he was out of the car, romping around at the end of his leash in the snow, while Myka cleaned up the backseat and replaced the now soiled blanket she had laid down in the back for him with a fresh one out of the trunk. Trailer had willingly jumped back in the car, seemingly ready for the rest of the drive, and for awhile things had seemed fine, until the same pattern had started again.
So now, here she was still an hour away from where she needed to be, with an apparently sick dog, in the middle of the snow, in the middle of nowhere, on Christmas Eve.
Shit…shit…shit.
After another particularly aggressive groan from the backseat, Myka eased off of the highway, onto roads that were more snow-covered than the highway, with the thought in mind that it might just be safest to find a hotel room for the night and try the drive again when the roads were cleared and Trailer’s stomach was feeling a bit more settled. She hadn’t paid any attention to where this particular exit was taking her, until the two-lane highway brought her smack dab into the center of a small town which seemed to have fallen back in time. Twinkle lights glistened from every lamp pole, there were wreaths on every door, and a Christmas tree in the center of town that would have given the one in Rockefeller Center a run for its money. The town square was ringed with small businesses, some still open for the last minute shoppers in need of one final gift or a forgotten ingredient for Christmas dinner. There was a steady stream of people filtering into the church on the opposite side of the square, everyone aglow with apparent Christmas cheer.
“Where the hell am I?” Myka murmured.
Her eyes roamed around in desperate search of any sign of a hotel, a bed and breakfast, hell, at this point she figured she’d take an empty stable. If it was good enough for the baby Jesus, she could suffer through a night in the cold, as long as it got her dog’s stomach to calm down. Impulsively, she decided that one road off of the town square was as good as the next, and so took the closest right available to her. She drove a little ways out of town, where the businesses gave way to quaint houses each bedecked in their own elegant Christmas decorations. She was almost ready to give up hope that this particular road was going to provide her any means of hope, when a jarring flash of neon drew her eye.
She actually gasped, certain that she had to have be seeing things. There amongst the houses was a small, brick building with a sign out front declaring it the home of Wells’ Animal Practice. A bright blue OPEN sign shone through the quickly coming on darkness. Slamming a bit too hard on the brakes, thus eliciting another sigh and groan from the backseat, Myka turned her car into the driveway where only one other lone car resided.
In the back of her mind, Myka knew she was probably being foolish; it was motion sickness, that was all. Trailer would be fine once they found somewhere to stay, preferably a hotel that allowed pets, since Myka was in no mood to try and sneak an eighty pound golden retriever past hotel workers who were most likely cranky that they had to work on a holiday. Yet, she had to be sure, and there was a vet right here. For a vague moment, Myka felt like she had fallen into one of those horrendously sappy, Hallmark Christmas movies where everything happens with the perfect dash of coincidence to make Christmas magic seem real. Except if that was the case, whatever vet she was about to meet would have to be her soul mate and she was certain that no vet that was open at five o’clock on Christmas Eve was going to be anything close to her type. Sweet, seventy year old men who aren’t ready to retire yet might work for some people, but she was not one of them.
Uncertainly, Myka knocked on the door, before tentatively trying to knob, feeling it turn freely under her palm, the small jingle of a bell ringing over her head to properly announce her entrance.
A lilting voice caught Myka off guard as it echoed from the back of what appeared to be a converted house, “One moment.” So much for sweet, seventy year old men, Myka thought, because the voice was most certainly that of a woman, a woman who sounded distinctly British. The soft sound of steps coming down the hall announced the arrival of the voice’s owner before she emerged herself.
For the second time in less than ten minutes, Myka involuntarily gasped, though this time was starkly more embarrassing since it didn’t exactly go unnoticed by the person who elicited such a reaction. Where Myka had been expecting some near retirement age veterinarian with graying temples, instead a woman of about her own age stood in front of her, a woman who might have been the most startling beautiful woman Myka had ever seen.
The corner of the woman’s lips quirked in a quick smirk, before falling into a more graceful, welcoming smile, “Can I help you?”
Myka let out a small sigh of relief that this woman, this saint of a woman whose veterinary practice was still open this late on a holiday, was going to ignore Myka’s utterly embarrassing reaction to her appearance. Myka gestured towards Trailer who was happily, and seemingly healthily, sniffing every corner of the waiting room with reckless abandon before diving headfirst into a water bowl that was sitting out and drinking contentedly. She let out a self-deprecating chuckle, “So, obviously my dog seems totally fine.” Trailer’s head perked up at Myka’s voice, his ears twitching in playful acknowledgement of her gaze, before returning to the task at hand of drinking the bowl dry. Myka sighed, gesturing vaguely behind her towards the door, “I’m sorry, I know it’s Christmas Eve, but your sign was on and the door was open, and well, we’ve been driving all afternoon from New York and he’s thrown up twice and just seemed really unsettled, and he’s had some trouble with motion sickness in the past, so I’m sure that’s what it is, but like I said, I was driving by and there was your sign and I just felt like…”
“You needed to check,” the vet nodded with a soft smile. She shot a small wink Myka’s way, “I figured I’d finish that sentence for you and give you a second to breathe.”
Myka felt her cheeks flush, “Sorry…God, I’m sure I sound like some crazy person. Help, my dog doesn’t seem to be enjoying his car ride!”
“You don’t sound crazy, you sound like nine out of ten people who walk through that door on a daily basis, who simply love their pets. Trust me, you’re fine.” The vet gestured towards a coat rack in the corner, “Why don’t you take off your coat, and let’s get this handsome gent into the back for a quick check.”
Without encouragement, Trailer padded up to the vet, sniffing around her shoes, before sitting squarely in front of her, tail wagging happily.
The vet chuckled warmly, kneeling down next to him and rubbing softly behind his ears, “Well, hello there. You are quite friendly, aren’t you?”
Trailer nudged his nose into her palm causing Myka to let out a breathy laugh, “Sorry, he’s a little…forward.”
“Oh, he’s fine. More than fine.” The vet scratched down Trailer’s neck, “What’s your name, handsome?”
“Trailer.” Myka answered as she hung her coat up, her hand unconsciously coming up to palm her neck. She had no idea why she felt nervous, but she was most distinctly nervous.
“Trailer? How very unique.” The vet stood grasping Trailer’s leash lightly, “Well, Trailer let’s get you back here and see what the trouble is.”
Myka followed behind them, suddenly painfully aware of the fact that she was in a grubby pair of jeans, chosen purely for their comfort while driving, and that her curls were going to be a riotous mess once she pulled her beanie off of her head. Quickly, she tugged it off, self-consciously running her hands through them in some vain effort to tame them before the vet, the utterly, fucking, gorgeous vet, looked at her again.
They went into an exam room, where Trailer immediately upon seeing the jar of biscuits on the counter, plopped his front paws on the edge of the counter with a loud bark.
“Trailer! Down!” Myka sought to find a commanding tone, but couldn’t quite muster it, too relieved that he seemed to be coming back to himself now that he was once again out of the car.
The vet laughed heartily, extracting a biscuit from the jar, eyeing Myka quickly, “May I?”
Myka nodded, “Sure…if he’s hungry…that has to be a good thing, right?” She couldn’t help the hope that crept in her voice, though she knew that there was still an undertone of worry in it.
“It is.” The vet let Trailer nab the biscuit from her hand, and then promptly dusted her hand against her white coat, extending it to Myka, “I’m so sorry, I should have introduced myself. I’m Dr. Wells.” She grimaced slightly, a small crease emerging between her eyebrows, “I’m sorry, that sounds so terribly formal. H.G. You can call me H.G.”
Myka fought back the urge to either laugh or let her jaw drop while she shook the proffered hand, “Your name is H.G. Wells?”
The grimace faded into an endeared, slightly embarrassed smile, “Yes, familial heritage, I suppose. My father is a descendant, and well, I am one in a line of many H.G.’s amongst my family tree.”
Now Myka finally let her jaw drop, “You’re related to H.G. Wells? Like War of the Worlds, The Time Machine, H.G. Wells?”
“Guilty as charged.”
“That’s….that’s amazing.” Myka couldn’t keep the awe from her voice.
A delicate eyebrow arched accompanied by the hint of a satisfied smile, “I’m impressed, most people either tend to have no clue who I am talking about or just seem to think it’s not terribly interesting.”
“How can someone not find that interesting? How can someone not know who H.G. Wells is?”
Dancing, musical laughter filled the small exam room, “Well, not everyone can be as sophisticated and amazing as the two of us apparently.”
“That’s extremely accurate.” Suddenly, Myka realized that she had gotten so wrapped up in the conversation that she had completely forgotten to introduce herself. Her teeth chased over the corner of her mouth, “Sorry, I’m Myka, by the way, of absolutely no relation to anyone of any remote consequence.”
“Oh I doubt that’s true,” H.G. shot another playful wink Myka’s way, drawing another burst of embarrassing color into Myka’s cheeks.
From the area of H.G.’s knees, a bark resounded against the walls, Trailer lifting up a paw to pat at her leg. She let out a soft chuckle, kneeling down to scratch Trailer’s neck, “I’m sorry, darling, are we ignoring you?”
“He’s rather persistent.”
“I can see that…and hear it.” H.G. continued to pet Trailer while encouraging him to get onto the exam table which was level with the ground. She turned to Myka once he was up, “You might want to come hold him, some dogs get a little skittish when this thing starts moving upwards.”
Myka stepped up to Trailer’s side, hooking a couple of fingers inside his collar to hold him steady, while running his ear between the fingers of her other hand, an action that she knew tended to calm him.
H.G.’s demeanor shifted into one of steady focus, glancing at Myka, while running her hands along Trailer’s ribs and stomach, “So, you said he seemed to be having trouble with motion sickness?”
“Yeah, it used to be a big problem when he was a puppy, but he seemed to grow out of it, but then again, that was when I also moved to the city and we stopped going for car rides, so maybe it was still there, he just hadn’t been in the car in so long…”
“Other than the obvious issues with his stomach, was there anything else abnormal about his behavior? Any other apparent symptoms?”
“No,” Myka shook her head, “I mean, he never seemed to be able to find a comfortable position to lay down in, but that could be the motion sickness too. The few times we stopped and he got outside he perked right back up, and of course, he seems fine now, so I’m sure I’m completely overreacting.”
“Not at all, much better to be precautious, especially if he hasn’t acted this way much recently.” H.G. took out a stethoscope, pausing quietly to listen to Trailer’s lungs and his heartbeat. She went through the regular routine of a check-up, checking things that Myka knew most likely had nothing to do with Trailer’s stomach, but nonetheless she appreciated the diligence and care H.G. was taking. Eventually, H.G.’s shoulders relaxed and she ran a playful hand through the hair along Trailer’s back, “Well, nothing seems out of sorts and given his behavior when you arrived, sniffing around, drinking healthily, plus his penchant for wanting snacks, I think your initial assessment was the correct one. Motion sickness can put a dog completely out of sorts, but then they tend to rebound quickly.”
Immediately, Myka felt the tension seep out of her shoulders, a breath of relief flooding out of her lungs, “So he’s ok?”
H.G. smiled warmly, a hint of assurance behind it, “He seems completely perfect to me. He’s clearly well loved.”
“That’s a vet’s polite way of saying spoiled.”
“Once again, guilty as charged,” Helena said, but the smile that accompanied it said her assessment of Myka and Trailer’s relationship was far from a critical one. Once again, her demeanor shifted subtly, quickly, “I would ask you though, do you have much further to drive this evening?”
“Still about an hour, but I don’t have to get there tonight. I mean, I’d most likely be saying goodbye to my reservation since it’s a holiday, but if you don’t think he should travel…”
H.G. gave a non-committal shrug of her shoulders, “I’m going to give you some motion sickness medicine that usually works well for dogs, and I would feel horrendous for you to miss out on your holiday plans…”
“However, you think he needs to stay put for a bit.”
“I think it would be best to let him rest for the night, let his body return to some sort of baseline level of comfort. It will also give him a chance to get more water in his system and some food that he might have a chance of keeping down.”
“Then that’s what I’ll do.” Myka placed a kiss to the bridge of Trailer’s nose, “Whatever keeps him happy and healthy. I don’t have to be anywhere until the 26th anyway so I can take a day.”
“Wonderful. Now,” H.G. began to lower the exam table slowly, “why don’t you both head back out to the waiting room and I’ll go and get you that medication.”
As Myka waited for H.G. to return, she felt a palpable sense of relief at how contented Trailer once again seemed. He had curled up across her feet, but his head was still held up sniffing at the air around him with obvious, playful attention. Once her thoughts were no longer weighed down with worry, however, it gave her brain far too open of an opportunity to think about the woman who quite honestly felt like a Christmas miracle. Embarrassingly, Myka’s mouth went completely dry, a warmth spreading through her stomach as she thought about the way her laughter had echoed in the room, the way she had playfully winked at her. It seemed wickedly and wildly unfair that it had taken her dog needing a vet in the middle of absolute nowhere for her to run into a woman like this, and wildly unfair that this was most likely the first and only time she would ever see this woman.
H.G. emerged from the back, medication in hand and a bright smile on her face. She handed over the box to Myka, “The instructions are on there, but one pill, which you can slip into a treat if he doesn’t like taking pills dry, about an hour before you get back in the car, and he should be right as rain.”
“Thank you so much, I cannot thank you enough, honestly.”
“It was my pleasure. I’m glad I decided to stay open this evening, I usually close early on holidays, but something told me to stay a little longer, despite have let the rest of my staff go hours ago.”
“You have been a life saver, truly.” Awkwardly, Myka fumbled with her purse, knowing far too well what vet visits, plus medication cost. “What…”
She didn’t even get a chance to finish her sentence.
“Do not concern yourself with that, please. It was my pleasure.”
“No, I mean it’s Christmas Eve, you should be charging me double.”
H.G. chuckled, “True. Well, if that’s the case, you owe me whatever zero doubled is.”
Myka shook her head, “At least let me pay you for the medicine, that can’t be on the house.”
“Ah, but it can, please, consider it a Christmas gift.”
Myka sighed, at a complete loss, “You have to let me give you something.”
There was a slight pause, H.G.’s forehead furrowed in mild consideration. Eventually, a look of realization dawned across her face and she arched an eyebrow Myka’s way, her mouth curling once again into a subtle smirk, “Fine, I will acquiesce. If you insist on paying me somehow, have dinner with me tonight.”
Myka’s eyes widened slightly, her cheeks flushing for what felt like the thousandth time that night, “Oh…oh, yeah, sure, absolutely.”
“Well seeing as it is Christmas Eve and you suddenly find yourself not at your chosen holiday destination, the least I can do is make sure you have a proper holiday meal.”
“You say it that way and it once again sounds like you’re giving me something, rather than me giving you something in gratitude for taking care of my dog.”
“Trust me, darling,” H.G. smiled sweetly, “dinner is payment enough. Give me a few minutes to gather my things and we can be on our way.”
Nerves cascaded into Myka’s stomach, replacing the warmth that had been residing there. Self-consciously she looked down at what she was wearing, she was in no way, shape, or form dressed for a Christmas dinner out with this woman, this woman who, even in her white doctor’s coat, looked goddamn immaculate.
She didn’t have time to contemplate her appearance further, because H.G. emerged right at that second coat draped over her arm and a stack of file folders in the crook of her elbow, “Shall we?”
It was only once they got outside, with the sharpness of the air hitting her lungs that Myka realized the complication of their current situation. “Shit…” She looked apologetically at H.G., “I…I kind of need to go find a hotel room so that I have some place to take Trailer before dinner. Can I meet you somewhere?”
An embarrassed sort of half smile graced H.G.’s face, “Please feel free to say no to this offer, and do not say yes because you feel some sort of obligation to do so given our circumstances, but I do live just next door,” she gestured vaguely to a beautiful, cozy, Christmas lit house to their left. “If you want, you’re welcome to leave Trailer there, assuming he’s ok with other dogs. I just have one, he’s about Trailer’s size, and very friendly. He might be more comfortable in a house with furniture he’s welcome to climb all over and toys to play with, rather than an unfamiliar hotel room.”
Myka gaped a bit at the extremely generous offer. Why on earth was this woman being so nice to her? Because it’s Christmas, she told herself. Because she’s hitting on you, her subconscious wishfully thought. Myka strove to find her footing, smiling brightly, “Yeah, sure, that is extremely nice of you, because you’re right, he would be miserable at a hotel.”
“Aces!” H.G. smiled brightly, turning quickly and leading the way to her front walk.
Quickly, Myka took another assessment of her clothes, calling out, “One sec! Just…let me grab my bag out of the car. If we’re going to dinner, I need to change my clothes; I am not fit for public eyes.”
H.G. glanced over her shoulder with a wicked smile, “I would beg to differ on that front, but that would be rather bold of me to say, I suppose.”
“Jesus Christ…” Myka muttered under her breath as she turned towards her car, her heart beating erratically in her chest. Somehow this Christmas was not turning out as she planned, but she was starting to not particularly mind.
**
The first thought that ran through Myka’s mind when she walked into H.G.’s house was, I never thought someone could have more books than I do. The second was that if Trailer could read her thoughts, he would hate her for life, because she was staring at forty pounds of the most adorable, tri-colored, fluff of a dog she had ever seen, besides Trailer.
“Dickens…be nice,” H.G. said with some combination of sweetness and command in her voice.
Dickens, H.G.’s dog apparently, after making a thorough examination of Myka’s knees, immediately approached Trailer with as a polite sniff and a tiny bark. Myka knelt down, feeling H.G. do the same next to her, both of them keeping their distance to let the dogs figure their own way out, but remaining close enough to intervene if necessary. After a few moments of sniffing and circling, Dickens scampered down the hallway, returning quickly with a squeaky toy in his mouth that he promptly dropped at Trailer’s feet.
H.G. laughed with pleasure, “Well, I think these two are going to be just fine.”
Myka’s laughter mixed and mingled with H.G.’s as she watched Trailer follow after Dickens down the hall, toy squeaking animatedly in his mouth. She eyed H.G. with a teasing smile, “Dickens, huh?”
H.G. raised a delicate eyebrow, somehow in question and defiance. Her eyes roamed the bookshelves that lined the entranceway, “Given the look of this hallway, is the name a particular shock?”
“No,” Myka chuckled, fingers tracing carefully over the nearest spines. “I never thought I’d meet someone whose collection rivaled my own.” She shot H.G. a smirk, “I’m impressed.”
“I rarely find someone who finds it anything other than odd, therefore, I too, am quite impressed.” H.G.’s eyes darted a clock on the wall and grimaced, “Bollocks, we should probably get ready…”
Myka’s brow furrowed in confusion, “Did you have a reservation on the off-chance someone stumbled into your practice tonight?”
An unreadable look raced across H.G.’s face. It almost looked like guilt, but it was gone before Myka could read it properly, replaced by the look of quiet determination and underlying flirtation that Myka was beginning to realize was simply this woman’s baseline setting. H.G.’s smirk slid back into place, “No, but I thought we might go into the city and it is a bit of a drive. If we delay, traffic might get a little out of hand.”
“Of course. Umm,” Myka awkwardly held up her bag, “is there somewhere I can change?”
“There is a bathroom down the hall to the right. I’ll just pop upstairs, and then we can be on our way.”
**
Myka tried desperately to get her hair tamed into some sort of respectable tangle. She sighed, looking the mirror, “To hell with it. Hopefully the restaurant will be dark.” Her eyes strayed into her bag. That would seem like a bit much. It would scream desperation. The woman asked you to dinner on Christmas Eve, put the fucking makeup on, Bering. She rolled her eyes at herself in the mirror, “It’s a holiday, there is nothing wrong in wanting to look nice…presentable.” Hot. Desirable..
“Oh this was such a bad idea…” she mumbled, swiping on a layer of lipstick.
**
Thank God I put on makeup.
Holy fuck…she looks hot.
Close your mouth. Stop staring.
Fuck.
Myka gave her head a small shake, turning her attention to where Trailer was curled up next to Dickens on the couch, anything to keep her eyes away from H.G. who had descended the stairs in a ridiculously tight, ridiculously attractive black dress, her hair delicately swooped across one shoulder, her makeup flawless. In a matter of ten minutes, this woman had gone from white-coated vet to utter bombshell, leaving Myka’s head spinning.
“Well, they’ve gotten comfortable.” H.G. nodded her head towards the dogs.
Myka barely had enough rational space left in her brain to realize that H.G. had said anything. She stumbled over her words briefly, before eventually getting a response out. “Yeah, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Trailer settle in like this before. He must be feeling better.”
“Do you think they’ll be fine while we’re gone?” It seemed less a real concern of H.G.’s and more as though she was asking to make sure that Myka was sure.
Myka nodded, “Given that they’re already sleeping nose to nose, I think they’ll be perfect. Thank you again for this…you really didn’t have to.”
“You didn’t have to agree to have dinner with me, so no thanks needed. Now, shall we?”
**
“So, where do you have to be on the 26th?”
The question came out of nowhere, pulling Myka up short, keeping her from answering immediately. They’d been driving for maybe fifteen minutes in silence, not awkward or uncomfortable silence, just silence and it had been causing Myka to wonder how they were going to make it through dinner if they chose to just not talk the rest of the evening.
Words, Myka. Talk.
“Oh, umm, I have to meet my boss in Riverton. He’s spending the holiday there with his family at their cabin, but these pages are still due and I volunteered so no one else had to miss their own Christmases and so here I am. Wow…silence to rambling in point two seconds. I’m sorry.”
“I’m beginning to wonder how many times this evening I’m going to have to tell you to stop apologizing.”
“Probably quite a few. Sorry.” Myka laughed self-consciously, “Clearly a few more times.”
“Amidst the rambling, which I do not mind by the way, you mentioned pages. Are you a writer?”
Myka’s self-deprecatig laughter grew, “No, I’ve always wanted to be, but no. I’m an editor at a publishing house in the city.”
“Well that explains the impressive book collection you alluded to.”
“Hazards of the job, hazards of growing up in a bookstore.”
H.G. shot her a somewhat stunned look before quickly returning her eyes to the road, “You grew up in a bookstore?”
“Technically above one, but I spent more time in the store than in my room so it equaled out. My parents own a bookstore in Colorado, always have.”
“That sounds…idyllic.”
Myka fought back a sigh, fought back words that she really didn’t need to share with a stranger on Christmas Eve, “It had its moments.”
“So, what brought you to the city? Colorado to New York City seems like a bit of a jump.”
“Job offer from the publishing house; I got damn lucky right out of college. It meant leaving home, but it also meant pursuing my dream, so despite how much it pissed my parents off that I was leaving, how clearly it spelled out for them that I wasn’t going to take over at the store, I did it anyway.” So much for not saying things to strangers on Christmas Eve.
“Determined woman, I like that,” H.G. smirked.
“Stubborn, determined, pick your adjective I suppose.”
“Stick with determined, it suits you.”
“Pegged me after an hour of knowing me, huh? Bold.”
H.G.’s smile widened, “I have been told that bold is the perfect adjective for me. Apparently, I’m not the only one who has pegged the other quickly.”
A soft warmth seeped from Myka’s chest into her stomach. She usually wasn’t this comfortable in social settings, let alone social settings that were so entirely new and wholly unexpected. First dates usually found her fumbling and a little nervous, but with H.G., she just felt at ease. Maybe that’s because this isn’t a date. She shook away the thought and steered the conversation away from herself, from revealing one too many things too quickly, seeking to even the playing field, “How long have you been a vet?”
“Almost ten years. I joined the practice right out of graduate school. I had done an internship there with a dear mentor, and when he retired a few years ago, I took over the practice.”
“I’m going to steal one of your lines here, but England to Connecticut…seems like quite a jump.”
H.G. laughed warmly, “Indeed. We moved here when I was thirteen. My father got a job offer that he couldn’t quite refuse, and we’ve all been here since, just haven’t been able to shake the accent.”
Their conversation continued like that for the next half hour, ebbing and flowing between personal anecdotes and casual commentary on meaningless things. Myka found herself saying things she rarely if ever said to people she had just met, talking about her parents, about life in Colorado, about wanting to write. She had no idea how, but somehow this vet from the middle of nowhere had cracked her open without even trying, all in a matter of minutes.
As the mile markers continued to declare their growing nearness to Hartford, Myka noticed that H.G. became seemingly more distracted, eyes darting back and forth between Myka and the road. She grew quieter, taking longer to answer questions and respond in kind. Eventually, Myka couldn’t stop herself from asking, “Are you alright?”
Myka watched as H.G.’s teeth flashed out and chased over the corner of her lip, felt the car slow down as her foot eased off the accelerator despite still being on the highway. H.G. heaved a deep sigh, “Seeing as we’re only ten minutes away, I suppose I should stop stalling…”
Nerves ricocheted through Myka’s stomach. What the hell was happening? Her tongue fought to wrap around the appropriate words, “What exactly are you stalling about?”
“It’s possible… H.G. cleared her throat roughly, “it’s possible that I wasn’t entirely transparent in my intentions of asking you to dinner tonight.”
Oh God…this is where it goes from Hallmark movie to slasher horror.
Myka fought to keep her voice steady, to not convey the panic that was exploding through her neurons, “Ok…well, are we actually going to dinner?”
“Oh yes,” H.G. said hastily. “It’s only that...we aren’t exactly going to a restaurant…” Her words died off, unable to finish the sentence.
“So where are we going?” Myka prodded.
H.G. grimaced deeply, “My parents’ house.”