“No clue.” I dared to set a hand on the small of Shane’s back and was relieved when he leaned into the touch instead of pulling away.
A customer came in with a cat carrier and seemed to be checking her pet in for a neuter. Another woman with a spaniel on a leash followed them in, waiting her turn. A young woman who wasn’t the doc or Oscar came from the back to take the cat carrier from the owner, who left.
“Mr. Webster, Mr. Lafontaine?” Oscar called from the doorway.
We hurried over.
“Dr. Louisa asked me to let you know we will have to keep Foxy for a cesarean. The first puppy’s too big for her to pass. But she’s doing well, and we’ll fit her into this morning’s schedule.”
Shane said, “Isn’t a cesarean dangerous?”
“A third of American women give birth that way. She’ll recover fast. In two weeks, she won’t even remember she had surgery.”
“I guess.”
I asked, “What do you need from us?”
“Just confirm your contact numbers with the front desk before you head out.”
“We’ll wait,” Shane said.
Oscar shook his head. “It’ll be hours, and really, you’ll just be bored stiff and clogging up the waiting room. We’ll call when she’s out of surgery and let you know how she and the babies are doing, but she won’t go home till after five.”
“How many puppies?” I asked.
“Looks like six. Big, well-developed-looking pups.” Oscar laid a hand on Shane’s shoulder. “I know it’s easy for me to say, but try not to worry. She’s in the very best hands with Dr. Louisa.”
Shane nodded silently.
I steered him to the front desk, where I added my email to the contact info and took one of the doctor’s cards. Then we stepped out into the parking lot. Shane looked around as if he was dazed. I gestured at my car. “Let’s go to my place. I can see about getting some power back to the venue. She’ll need warmth and you’ll need laundry when she comes home.”
“Oh!” He seemed to come back from somewhere far away. “Sure.”
We drove in silence. Shane’s head drooped over and over before jolting him awake. Once inside, I pointed him at the couch. “Have a seat. Get comfy. There’s that throw blanket on the back if you’re worried about the upholstery. I’ll make a phone call and then we can have some breakfast.” I figured it wouldn’t take long for Shane to drop off after spending the night up with Foxy.
Sure enough, by the time I finished paying the power company and received assurances that they’d restore service within twenty-four to forty-eight hours, Shane was out like a light, rolled up in the fleece blanket. His feet hung off the edge of the couch, and I unlaced and eased off his sneakers without waking him, then draped the blanket more snugly over his toes.
I dithered for a few minutes, thinking about getting him a pillow or another blanket, but what he needed most was sleep. Trying not to disturb him, I eased the patio door open and stepped out into the cool morning. After walking around the corner of the house to keep the sound down, I called Arthur.
“Hey, Theo, what’s up?” He sounded cheerful.
“Just a heads-up. We took Foxy to the vet clinic and Dr. Blair’s going to do a cesarean. She’ll be calling you for permission, I guess. She said one of the puppies was too big.”
“Well, crap.” I heard Arthur sigh. “Foxy will be fine. Dr. Louisa’s good at her job. I’ll call and guarantee payment.”
“Already done,” I told him. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Are you sure? The rescue has medical funds.”
“Call it a donation.”
“Thank you.” He repeated that more fervently. “Thank you for everything.”
“Anytime. I don’t want Shane— or you— to worry. Speaking of donations, I need to hook you up with my lawyer so you can get that charitable corporation registered. I have a free wine-tasting building for you.”
“Free what?” His voice shook. “You… you’re serious?” I heard him take a ragged breath.
At the hopeful tone of his voice, something warm and sweet rose up inside me.Hell, yes. Turning my grandparents’ bitter legacy into a gift to someone who’ll do great things with it?The idea felt like wings carrying me aloft, weightless and free.
