A Curve in the Road Page 23

Dr. Payne nods at me. “Okay then. I’ll need my jacket, though. It’s hanging in your front hall closet.”

“Great. I’ll go get it.” I hand him his vet bag and run back up the stairs.

Quickly, I explain the situation to Carla and my mother as I rifle through the closet. I also ask if Carla will pick me up at the clinic later.

She says yes, and I ask them to explain everything to Zack when he gets home.

“He can call me on my cell.”

I realize I never told either of them that I fainted in the basement, and I’m glad I didn’t, because they’d only worry more. They’d try to convince me to go to the ER tonight, when I need to be with Winston.

A moment later, I hurry out the door and hop into Dr. Payne’s vehicle.

He shifts into reverse, and we back out of the driveway.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Dr. Payne’s Victorian home is brightly lit, with lights on in every window, but the clinic is dark. As we pull into the veterinary hospital parking lot, I wonder how often this sort of thing happens, and I hope his family is understanding.

I get out of the car and watch him slide Winston out of the van on a gurney. He hands me the keys to the clinic. “Would you mind unlocking the door?”

“Sure.” I lead the way while he wheels Winston across the paved lot.

A moment later, we enter the treatment area at the back. Dr. Payne switches on the lights and computers. He rolls Winston on the gurney toward a bank of white cabinets and locates what he needs to take a blood sample. Next, he takes Winston into a small digital-imaging room and turns on the x-ray machine.

“Can I do anything to help?” I ask at the door.

“No, I’ve got this,” he replies. “But if you’d like a cup of coffee, feel free to help yourself.” His hands are busy, so he tosses his head to gesture toward a door beyond the row of computers. “There’s a small staff room right through there.”

“Great. Would you like a cup too?”

“That would be great.”

Happy to feel useful, I remove my coat, set my purse down on a chair, and head into a small, newly renovated lunchroom with a stainless-steel fridge, a stove, contemporary white cupboards, and an antique pine table with four chairs. The coffee maker is one of those Keurig machines, so it’s easy to find everything and make two cups.

I peek my head out the door and see that Dr. Payne has already finished in the x-ray room. Winston is resting quietly on the gurney beside him while he sits on a stool and works with the blood samples he just took.

“Dr. Payne, do you take cream or sugar?”

“Black is fine,” he replies. “And call me Nathan.”

“Nathan.”

I return to the coffee maker and brew a second cup, and then I carry both mugs out to the main treatment area and set his down beside him.

“Thanks.” Seeming intensely focused, he takes a quick sip, then wheels his stool to a computer workstation and begins typing. “Would you like to see the x-rays?”

“I’d love to.”

I move closer to stand over his shoulder.

“Everything looks good to me,” I say, bending forward to look more closely. “What do you think?”

Nathan sips his coffee. “I don’t see any issues. But I still want to monitor that infection and see how he responds to the antibiotics. I’d like to keep him overnight.”

“Sure,” I reply. “But . . . should I stay as well?”

“You don’t have to.”

I glance over at Winston on the gurney. “I know, but I’d rather not leave him, and to tell you the truth, I’d prefer not to go home just yet.”

Nathan swivels around on his chair and looks up at me. “Is everything okay at home?”

I don’t know how to answer the question—how to tell him that I’m afraid to face my son because I’m keeping a secret from him and I’m a terrible liar. I’m afraid he’ll know that I’m hiding something.

Nathan stares at me for a few seconds, then bows his head and shakes it. “I’m sorry. That was a dumb question. Of course everything’s not okay. You just lost your husband.”

In more ways than one.

Still not sure how to respond, I turn and approach Winston. I stroke his head and rub behind his ears. “It wasn’t a dumb question.”

I hear Nathan rise from his chair. He circles around the gurney to stand on the opposite side, with Winston between us.

“I know what it’s like,” he says, “when everyone keeps telling you that they’re sorry for your loss or that it’ll get easier in time. There’s nothing anyone can say, really.”

I glance up. “Have you lost someone?”

“My wife,” he replies. “Three years ago.”

My head draws back slightly. “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” I shake my head at myself. “There it is again. That word. Sorry.”

“If I only had a dime . . . ,” he says.

“For every time you heard it.” I let out a sigh. “Me too, and it’s been less than a week since . . .”

I can’t bring myself to finish the sentence, so I don’t. I just leave it there, hanging in the air between us.

“And you have children?” I remember Ruby mentioning something about him needing to pick up one of his daughters at school the last time I was here.

“I have two girls,” he explains. “Twelve and nine.”

“Who’s taking care of them now?”

“My parents,” he replies. “This is their house.” He gives me a playful, sheepish grin. “Yes, I’m a grown man who lives with his parents.”

I return the smile. “Well, there are worse places you could be. Did you grow up in Lunenburg?”

“Yes.”

“Did we know each other?” I ask. “Because I grew up here too. What year did you graduate from high school?”

“Ninety-seven.”

“Ah. I was there before your time. I graduated in 1991.”

He nods and pats Winston.

“Was your wife from here as well?” I ask.

“No, we met at vet school in Toronto. We opened a clinic there together, and that’s where we were living when she got sick.”

I glance up at him, wondering . . .

“Breast cancer,” he tells me.

“Ah.” I nod soberly.

“After she was gone,” he continues, “it was difficult, trying to raise two young daughters on my own and keep the clinic going at the same time. Her parents didn’t really want to be involved. They were older and had just retired to Florida the year before, so my parents convinced me to come home and open an animal hospital here.”

“It’s a wonderful place to raise children,” I say with certainty.

“Yes, and it was their idea to renovate this place, since they had more space than they knew what to do with. They’re seniors now, so I pay them rent, which helps them out financially, and they want nothing more than to spend time with their grandkids, so everybody’s happy.” He gives me a sympathetic look. “Listen, it does get easier. It may not seem like it now, but it will.”

“That’s good to know. Because it’s hard to imagine anything ever being easy again. Not in this lifetime.”

He runs his hand down the back of Winston’s head. “Just make sure you ask for help when you need it and say yes when people offer. Like if a neighbor offers to mow your lawn, they want you to say yes. It makes them feel good to know they’re helping somehow. It’s just as much for them as it is for you. Let them help.”

“I’m sure that’s true,” I reply, “but I don’t think anyone can truly help me with the worst of my problems. I’m dealing with bigger issues than just taking care of my lawn.”

He considers this. “You’re talking about the big bottomless pit of grief? The loneliness?”

My eyes lift, and I find myself wanting to vent all my woes. Maybe it’s because this man is an outsider—someone unbiased who never knew Alan and me as a couple. “Not exactly.”

He inclines his head, curious.

“I learned something today,” I finally tell him as I stroke the soft fur around Winston’s neck. “Although maybe I always knew there was something wrong. I just didn’t want to face it.”

“What was that?”

Winston opens his eyes, looks up at me for a few seconds. I bend forward and kiss the top of his head, and he closes his eyes again.

“Today I learned that my husband was having an affair.”

Nathan’s eyebrows lift. “Oh God, that’s awful. How did you find out?”

“Well . . . after he got behind the wheel with a blood alcohol level of 0.33 and nearly killed me on the highway—and Winston too—his secret lover decided it was a good idea to sneak in and out of the funeral home before the wake and then skulk around at the burial, basically alerting me to the fact that he was leading a double life.”

Nathan shakes his head in disbelief. “Did she tell you who she was?”

“No, but I already knew her from high school, and my spider senses were tingling. Today she confessed everything.”

“Wow.”

“I know, right? It was going on for three years, and he managed to keep it secret the whole time. I didn’t suspect a thing, which makes me feel like a complete fool. Now I’m questioning everything about our relationship. Oh, and on top of that, he recently found out that he had terminal cancer. He didn’t tell me that either.”

I don’t mean to sound glib, but that’s how it all comes pouring out, and I feel like I’m describing a soap opera on TV. The fact that this is my life is surreal, especially to me.

I glance up and discover that Nathan is watching me with a frown. Almost immediately, my eyes fill with tears, and I back away from the gurney. I press my fingers to my lips to try and stop the floodgates from opening again, because I’ve done enough crying. I’m tired of blubbering, and I don’t want to fall apart anymore.

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