“Okay, well, do you remember what kind it was?”
“I bought it for a new cookie recipe I want to try,” my mom said, squinting her eyes like she was trying to see it. “The cookies have a mix of three different kinds of chocolate in them, and I already had the other two in the pantry, so I only bought the one type. It was in a light blue wrapper, and it had white lettering on it.”
“You can’t remember the brand?”
She shook her head and I saw a flash of confusion in her eyes. As frustrated as I was, I still worried that there was something more to her forgetfulness lately.
“Was it in a bar or chips?” I asked, continuing the game of twenty questions.
“I wasn’t a part of this new baking project, so I have no idea,” my dad said, throwing his hands up.
“It was a bar,” Mom answered. “I was going to pound it up into pieces.”
I sighed. “That’s not a good sign. Bars usually have higher concentrations of theobromine than chips. How much did she eat?”
“Nearly the whole thing, but then I think she sniffed out the butter and got to work on that instead.”
“Shit. Okay, it sounds like I have to get started with the activated charcoal treatment, and I’ll put her on IV fluids too.”
“She’s such a little garbage can,” Mom said, stroking the dog on her side. “She’s certainly not picky. I think she’s the only one in the house who’d eat plain white chocolate like that!”
I paused. “Wait, what?”
She glanced up at me. “Your father and I don’t like white chocolate by itself. I only bought it because the recipe calls for it. I figured it would taste okay all mixed up in a cookie with the other types. Oh, and the recipe calls for some nuts too. Walnuts or almonds.”
“You’re telling me that Bailey atewhitechocolate, not dark or milk?”
My parents nodded in unison.
I dropped my head and rubbed my eyes. “White chocolate isn’t great for a fat, old beagle, but it’s certainly not going to poison her like the other kinds of chocolate. This isn’t a crisis. She’s probably going to have an upset stomach and a whole lot of diarrhea. I’ll treat her for upset, but we can skip the charcoal and fluids.”
“Really? Oh, that’s wonderful news,” Dad said, joining my mom on the ground beside Bailey.
“Yeah, but it doesn’t change the fact that you left food out for her to get into, again, and then you couldn’t even identify what she ate!” I exclaimed, frustrated that my parents still didn’t seem to understand the seriousness of their mistake. “You got lucky this time, but what if it had been dark or bittersweet chocolate in that bag instead? Or what if she ate something with xylitol? Do you have any idea how dangerous that is? How many times are you going to let this happen? For all you know, next time she might get into something that could really hurt her. As it is, she’s going to be in pain for the next few days, not to mention what she’s going to poop out as it all passes through her system. It’s not fair to her to be so careless.”
I stopped short when I realized that I was almost yelling at them. I worked so hard to keep my emotions under control and avoid losing my temper, but their selfishness was infuriating, and I hated that Bailey was the one suffering because of it.
“Well, we’re trying,” my father said meekly. “It’s just so easy to get distracted.”
I grumbled at him and started the hands-on portion of the exam. I couldn’t fix my parents, but at least I could fix poor Bailey.
I carried Bailey out to their car and listened to their promises that they would do better. I didn’t believe them for a second. This was a common pattern with them—one that I had seen play out again and again for my entire life. Both Dahlia and I had to learn how to take care of ourselves at a young age. At this point, though, a part of me worried about whether they should be living on their own given their general absentmindedness and our mom’s growing forgetfulness. I was starting to doubt that they were still able to take care of themselves adequately. I contemplated talking to my sister about setting up some sort of schedule to check on them regularly to make sure they were eating and the house wasn’t falling apart around them without them noticing.
I frowned as they drove away. I didn’t have time for this and it was unfair to push it all on my sister. More importantly, what would happen if Ruth decided to sell her practice to someone else? I wouldn’t be close enough to reach them in an emergency. The reasons for staying in Poplar Springs were growing. No matter what it took, I had to make this work.
THIRTY-TWO
DECLAN
Iwent back inside and started cleaning up the exam room, wiping everything down and getting the equipment put away. My mind was still on poor Bailey and my parents.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” Ruth asked.
I spun around and saw that she was frowning at me in the doorway with her arms crossed tightly across her chest.
Something was wrong, and whatever it was, judging from the look on her face, it was my fault.
“Of course, what’s going on?”
