Page 13 of The Banned Books Club
“Do you want to invite him to the Banned Books Club get-together or leave him out?”
Gia sank onto her bed. She understood that Cormac wasn’t responsible for what had happened. He and the rest of his family were victims of what his father had done as much as she was. But with her mother so ill—and having to face more than enough as it was—she preferred not to have any interaction with him. “Leave him out.”
4
Cormac gentled his voice and, with what he hoped was a patient smile, once again tried to explain to Mrs. Wood—who’d brought her golden Labrador in for the second time in as many weeks because he was listless—why she couldn’t continue to overfeed her dog. “Animals are like humans,” he said. “It’s not healthy for them to be overweight. It increases the chances of cancer, diabetes, heart disease, high blood pressure—a whole host of problems. You don’t want to see Astro deal with such serious health issues, do you?”
She looked suitably horrified. “Of course not! But...he’s notthatoverweight, is he?”
“Like I told you last Wednesday, he’sa lotoverweight,” Cormac replied. “He just weighed in at ninety-two pounds.”
She looked as though she was about to burst into tears, and he knew after what she’d been through, that was a real possibility. “Aren’t a lot of Labs on the heavy side?”
The last time she was in, Cormac had been a little too careful not to say anything upsetting, which was probably why she hadn’t taken his advice to heart. “Labs have a genetic tendency to be overweight, yes, but Astro should still be closer to seventy pounds. That means he has twenty-two pounds to lose—or twenty-four percent of his body weight. That’s a lot,” he emphasized so she’d finally understand the gravity of the situation.
“But to get him to lose that much, I’ll practically have to starve him! He’ll be miserable.”
Cormac surreptitiously glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. He’d given this poor woman and her dog his lunch hour but thanks to an early-morning surgery that ran long, he was still behind schedule. He didn’t want to push them out the door, though. “Dieting isn’t fun for anyone. You told me he’s listless. He doesn’t feel good—physically or emotionally. But I promise he’ll feel much better once he gets the weight off.”
“Emotionally? Are you saying he’sdepressed?”
“That’s a very real possibility.”
“Won’t cutting back on his food only make that worse? He lives to eat!”
“He’ll feel better if you’ll listen to me. He should get about three cups of kibble per day. That’s all. Don’t give him any more. And lay off the treats for a while.”
She put a hand on her dog’s head and the two of them exchanged a mournful look. “This is going to hurt me more than you,” she told him.
“A lot of people show their love through food,” Cormac said. “I can see why you have a hard time restricting his diet. But there are other ways to be good to your dog. Why don’t you take him out more, get him moving? I bet he’d like that.” Cormac couldn’t say it, but he thought the exercise would do her as much good as the dog. He guessed she was depressed, too, and had even more weight to lose.
In her defense, she’d had a rough couple of years. About ten months ago, her beloved cat had run into the street and been struck by a car. Cormac had had no choice but to put Mischief down. Then, right after that, her husband of more than fifty years suffered a debilitating stroke and passed away. Since they had no children, Astro—named because Mr. Wood had been an astrophysicist—was all she had left. It was natural that she’d indulge him.
“With winter coming, it’s going to be hard to get out very often,” she said in despair.
He could hear voices in the waiting room, knew his next appointment had to be getting restless. But when Mrs. Wood had called in this morning, claiming her dog had an emergency, he’d told her to bring Astro to the office right away. He’d been afraid he’d missed something serious. He knew she couldn’t sustain another loss in her life.
But Astro was fine—other than the fact that he was too fat.
“I’ll tell you what,” Cormac said. “I take my dog and jog around the park every morning at six. Why don’t I come by and get you and Astro, and you can walk while I run? A standing date might keep you motivated, you won’t have to drive yourself, which means you won’t have to worry about taking the car out when it’s snowy and cold, and you’ll have someone to watch over both of you while you’re there.”
He glanced away as tears filled her eyes. Large displays of emotion made him uncomfortable. “You’re too important a person to go to all that trouble for me.” She lifted an arthritic hand. “I’m just an old woman.”
“People matter at every age,” he said. “Let’s do it. We can start tomorrow.”
Obviously reluctant to commit herself to such a rigorous routine, she hesitated. He knew she’d been mired in grief since she lost her husband. But she had to do this for herself and her pet. Cormac could only hope making it as easy as possible would be the catalyst she needed.
“Really, that’s too much trouble...” she said.
“I don’t mind,” he insisted. “Statistics show that being accountable to a buddy makes it easier to work out each day.”
A tear caught in her bottom eyelashes before she wiped it away with an air of impatience. “Well, how can a woman—even an old one—refuse a standing date with the most eligible bachelor in town?”
His sister Louisa, who ran the front office, poked her head into the room just then, and his rottweiler, Duke—named for where Cormac had done his undergrad years before going to North Carolina State University’s College of Veterinary Medicine—pushed past her to say hello. “Is everything okay in here? Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked.
Obviously, he wasn’t the only one getting anxious about the people gathering in the waiting room.
“No, I was just leaving,” Mrs. Wood replied and called her dog, who eagerly jumped down off the examination table.
