Juneau's POV
"Good evening, Jacob, Esme," I cooed, walking to the AMC's white, semi-circular front desk. "Hi, Court."
"Hey, Juneau," a tired voice greeted me from behind not one, but two glass fish tanks.
"I'm glad to see them before they leave tomorrow..." My New Balances, or 'old lady shoes' as Damian teased, squeaked to a stop at the separated hedgehog buddies. "Did they get into a fight?"
By the end of my first day at Animal Medical Center, my feet were so numb that my ankles throbbed and I couldn't feel my toes. Since then, I wore the squishiest, most supportive walking shoes. From walking between exam rooms, lifting animals, setting up supplies, and cleaning down rooms between patients, I was more active than if I attempted to exercise.
I also learned to bring in two sets of scrubs. Probably should have three.
"Not exactly," Courtney murmured, her lips pulling into a smile. "Esme's pregnant."
"Jacob!" I leaned down to the larger one's cage, where he groomed his nose. "Didn't know you had it in you, little devil."
Shows how much I know. With how much Esme bit him, I thought she wanted to eat him.
Named after two characters from the book Twilight, these adorable, black-eyed balls of soft quills were another New Yorker's creative idea for a small apartment pet. While the shy animals were low maintenance, their nocturnal behavior was a bad idea for the woman who surrendered them at this same front desk two weeks ago.
"Who knew the little rat was packing." Courtney giggled. "Guess Esme did."
"Looks like Pittsburgh's getting buy two get, what..." I blinked at Courtney as if she knew how many babies African Pygmy hedgehogs had. "Four? Fourteen?"
Her fingers tapped on her phone, then her dark brown eyes peered over her screen. "Google says most likely four or five."
"Aww..." Walking my palms around the curve of the counter, I side-stepped and peered into Esme's cage. She was curled up in the corner, ignoring the world's existence. The black tips on her light brown quills expanded and contracted. "That's exciting."
"Like a happy, little hedgehog family."
Courtney's words stiffened my spine as I straightened up.
Family shouldn't be a sensitive word for me.
My eyes closed under the solemn reminder of my recent visit to my parents. I appreciated more than words expressed how frequently Damian and I visited Holy Name Cemetery, across the Harlem River in Jersey City. His response, past unwavering support, was joking that spending time in a cemetery was more enjoyable than when we visited his mom after.
Esther Rivera, Damian's mom, was a wonderful, big-hearted woman. She oozed love out of every word she insulted him with, and vice versa. An only child, I didn't know much about mother-son dynamics but Damian and Esther's was...
More to unpack then I have time to think about right now.
I still hadn't wrapped my brain around Damian informing me I needed to identify a man who stabbed me more than a year ago....
Ahh, I was such a fool when he offered me that Christmas box.
My heart skittered at the idea that Damian...
Doesn't matter. He didn't.
When I realized my misunderstanding, pain struck my chest like I was kicked by one of Damian's work boots. It gripped the strings of my heart and toyed with them.
Assuredly, with no false pretenses, I was fine. Fuck, no, I was deliriously happy with our current relationship. Damian was open, honest, big-hearted, conscientious, and by far the best lover I'd ever had.
No comparison in the bedroom department. Or the living room, kitchen, bathroom shower...
More importantly, I wasn't ready to consider if our amazing status quo fulfilled my life to the extent it did for Damian.
Maybe he will be enough of a family for me.
Stop questioning the someday maybe. At least get through the VTNE first.
Heaving a deep, raspy breath, I refocused my thoughts. While I knew Édgar Santino from my nightmares that followed the stabbing incident, I thought it was a random incident from unlucky timing.
Damian doesn't think so.
Overprotective caveman never impressed me. But Damian's came from a place of love and concern, both of which surfaced whenever he thought I was in danger. I felt the need to physically cling to him, cuddling and reassuring that I was fine.
More than fine. I'm safe, happy, and healthy.
"You alright, Juneau?" Courtney's concerned voice cut through my thoughts. They were all over the place lately, it seemed.
"Yep." I pressed my palms on my thighs and straightened up. "Looking at the budding new family."
Courtney giggled, bouncing her shoulders. "As long as they don't eat them."
"Wait... Why are you working tonight?" My eyebrows raised at her. "I thought -"
"Callum's on guard this weekend." Her smile disappeared. "I was hoping we could go through some wedding planning details. His mom won't stop sending me ideas but he's working in the harbor. All those drunk yutzes on their yachts."
That's right. I forgot.
Eesh, everyone is wedding planning, seems like.
On paper, Courtney was Callum's wife and him her husband. I started here and met Courtney about a year ago, when he served on a fourteen-month deployment at a Naval base in Bahrain. During his two-week break, he and Courtney married in a civil ceremony performed by his chaplain before his most recent deployment. It increased his basic pay, while assuring Courtney had survivor benefits if anything happened to him.
For the past two months, Callum worked with the Coast Guard in New York's harbor.
No clue about the yacht yutzes.
"At least she's supportive?" I offered, leaning my elbows on the counter.
"If by smothering and overbearing..." Courtney flipped through her phone, then handed it over the desk to me. "She's textbook supportive."
My eyes scanned over what she showed me, a string of text messages with. "Oh, wow. Is that..." I flipped over one white dress option after another. They were endless and my thumb swiped until the joint strained. "How many are there?"
"Fifty-seven, all pure white." She shook her head, swishing her long, black ponytail as I handed back the phone. "And she knows I'm no virgin bride."
Holding back a giggle at her candor, I rolled my lips inward. "I'm sure you'll be beautiful no matter what."
"What about your uniformed man candy?" Her eyebrows wiggled and her gaze dropped to my hands.
Framed by her long, thick lashes, my biggest engagement cheerleader's eyes rounded into a pair that rivaled any kennel inhabitant here.
That look, right there, is why Callum never wins an argument.
I wiggled all ten empty fingers. "We're doing fine as we are."
Her red lips protruded into a pout. With a huff, she pushed a clipboard over the desk. "If you say so. Here's your schedule tonight. Couple of emergencies were called in but they haven't shown up yet."
"Thanks." I took the papers she handed over to me, looking it over for some idea of what to expect. "Barney, golden retriever with..."
"Distended belly." Her eyes darted over my shoulder.
I followed them to the opening entrance doors. In walked a middle-aged man, carrying a large, limp dog in his arms. Both breathed hard. The man's face was puffed red. Worry hung in his eyes as he approached. The poor dog's head lolled over his forearm, eyes dilated and tongue hanging. The long, pink muscle twitched with Barney's pants.
I assume that's him.
"Better get scrubbed in," I whispered to Courtney and disappeared behind the desk while she checked them in.
The medical center was a different world on the other side of the lobby doors. Instead of the expansive, open air, a series of corridors connected the routine exam, surgery, and cleanup rooms, supply closets, and offices. The normal chorus of yips and yowls passed through my ears as I walked past the kennels and bumped my butt to open the door to the employee area.
My nostrils twitched with the strong smell of bleach-based cleaners that overpowered the animal-related smells. With soft squeaks over the white linoleum floors, I made my way to the employee locker room.
Outside the door, I stopped and smiled at the tall, thin vet approaching with drooping eyes and a bright smile. His brown waves fluttered as he walked and brown eyes focused on me. The edges of his white vet coat flapped open with each step of his long, bird legs.
"Happy New Year's, Juneau," Dr. Harris greeted me.
"Happy New Year's Eve," I corrected my mentor with a smile. "We still have four hours and you look tired already. How are you tonight?"
While large amounts of coffee and chocolate got me through the overnight hours, he preferred them. Working nights allowed him to be present for most of his son and daughter's after school activities, including family dinners.
Of the twenty night shift vets, I worked most of my graveyard hours with Dr. Harris. He trained me on my anesthesiology concentration and allowed me to administer IVs. The remaining one hundred and six vets worked the first or second shifts, while the specialists worked part-time.
In terms of vet hospitals in New York, I'm so lucky to work here. Never a dull moment.
Before he answered me, the phone on his hip buzzed. "Excuse me," he murmured, taking the call. "Doctor Harris... Yes. Thank you."
With a sigh, he placed the phone back on his hip. "Wash up and meet me in Room Three. Abandoned dog and we've got an incoming retriever with a belly issue. I'll get the scans but set up Surgery Room Three for possible enterotomy."
"Of course." My heart pinched at those words, intestinal surgery, but I nodded. "See you soon."
As my palms pressed into the locker room door, he called out, "Oh, and your intern replacement Luca is here."
"My... what?" My eyes stretched wide. I stopped, holding the door open as my lips parted.
Does he mean -
"Like you didn't know the permanent tech job is yours once you hand me that VTNE result." His smile creased lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth. "Congrats, you get to train someone on your old job. He was supposed to start last week but HR had some delays. Let's get him up to speed asap."
"Of course." I flashed a smile at the idea of more helping hands, even inexperienced ones.
Setting my purse, coat, and light snack into a locker, the hairs on my forearms raised with goosebumps as I sensed a presence behind me. Turning my head, my spine stiffened when I came face-to face-with a man I hadn't seen before.
"Ahh!" I jumped, surprising us both because he screamed too.
My spine stiffened as I jolted, bumping my back into a locker. The rattling sounds erupted between us and I palmed the cold metal until the vibrations stopped.
Looking a couple years younger than me, his bronzed skin was dotted with darker acne marks. Thick black eyebrows and lashes accompanied his short, black hair, but I couldn't place his face.
He also wasn't wearing any pants.
My eyes blinked as his toned, tattoo-covered bare skin below the edges of his boxers.
"¡Mierda!" Placing one hand on his chest, he flashed his other palm.
I exhaled at his top half dressed in scrubs, recognizing another vet assistant. Both my hands pressed into my chest, over my thudding heart. His eyes searched my nametag.
Drawing his eyebrows together, he garbled out, "Who knew?"
"Huh?" I blinked, my mouth parting.
"Your name," he offered in a thick, Hispanic accent, and pointed at my name tag.
"Who..." I looked down, realizing the 'J' was often pronounced with an 'H' and sighing. "It's Juneau."
"Luca." He pointed to his chest, frowning at my name. "Zjheww... No?"
"June-oh. Like the month - never mind, we'll work on it." I shook my head, closed my locker with one hand, and extended the other. "Nice to meet you, Luca."
"Jew-no," his third attempt was close enough. His palm and pads of his fingers were as rough as coarse sandpaper, scratching over mine as we shook. "I like your shirt."
My lips twitched at my seasonal scrubs, navy blue with dogs wearing ugly Christmas sweaters. I almost wore them to Adam and Vaughn's party but, per Adam's disapproval, they weren't naughty enough.
"Yours too." I grinned at his bright blue scrub shirt, covered with paw prints. "Guess you're shadowing me tonight. We're needed in Room Three for a general exam and setting up Surgery Room One. Meet Dr. Harris and me in Room Three when you're ready. Pants are a good idea."
Luca's round cheeks flushed pink and he dropped his eyes down to his bare knees. A giggle bounced my shoulders as he cursed under his breath. Locking my locker, I slipped my key into my right front pocket and patted around to ensure I had a mask in the left. Lifting my hands up to yank my ponytail tight, I bumped my butt against the door.
By the time Luca entered behind me into Room Three, Dr. Harris' hands ran over a mangey, shivering dog who wanted nothing to do with the exam table. His claws scraped at the steel table, running in slow motion.
In under a minute, all four of us panted from restraining the dog. Sweat dotted my forehead from lifting and chasing the terrified mixed-breed rescue.
"Ahh, good. Help secure him, Luca!" Dr. Harris laughed. "Fill in for Juneau so we can get this guy some sedation."
After thrashing around, almost biting Dr. Harris, and four escape attempts, the poor dog needed mild sedation. We placed a bite cage on him. To be safe, I opted for the intramuscular administration, wincing as he yelped.
"Poor thing," I murmured, pressing the plunger quickly.
As expected, the dog squealed from the shot, releasing a high-pitched yelp that stung my ears. As his sedation took him under, we relented our restraint, strapping him down for X-rays.
"What... happened?" Luca's eyes stared down at the dog, whose brown fur was matted with filth. I couldn't tell if the smell permeating the room was him or the dumpster he was rescued from.
"Found in a dumpster near two blocks over..." Dr. Harris muttered, sliding over the X-ray screen. After a few clicks and calibrations, he flicked on the screen and groaned. "He's all clear but he's got some blockages that might make the stool sample a challenge."
"I think we're up for the challenge." I grinned at Luca.
"Is it..." Luca mumbled as we washed up in the vet sink. "Always like this?"
"Sometimes." I dipped my elbows under the sink water, spraying off the brown liquid the abandoned dog had sprayed everywhere.
Literally everywhere.
After Dr. Harris' examination of 'Paolo,' I showed Luca how to draw a stool sample. Once we got Paolo's weight, he got a flea bath. Layers of dirt and grime released from his brown and black fur, which he flung shake after shake. Flea-free, he had a case of mange, requiring isolation and medication until it cleared.
Right after I let Luca name him, Paolo got a case of explosive diarrhea. Coupled with his fur shaking and squirming to get out of the sink, Paolo splattered feces over me and Luca, the sink, walls, and floor. Craning my neck back, I groaned at a few dots on the ceiling.
At least clothes can be changed and walls sanitized.
The words were easier thought than done. Both Luca and I sagged after we sanitized the washroom.
Running wet hands through my ponytail, I washed it the best I could. Spraying it with Lysol, I wound my hair into a quick braid and sighed down at my shit-splattered scrubs. "It's usually not this explosive. At least he's clean. Do you have a change of scrubs?"
"Si." He nodded, cleaning his hands and forearms off with the scrutiny of a vet prepping for surgery. "The schedule girl told me to bring in three sets."
"You'll need them," I teased, returning the cleaner bottles to the supply closet when my phone vibrated in my pocket. "Excuse me."
Turning away, I cupped a hand over my screen, suppressing a giggle at the incoming text message.
AdamBigJohnson: Happy NYE bitches! ❤️🍆💦🍆❤️
AdamBigJohnson: [ image attached ]
Typical Adam.
Smiling at the contact name he insisted on, and his inappropriate emojis, I pushed my thumb on the picture and prayed it was work-appropriate. My lips twitched at Adam sitting on Vaughn's lap. Thankfully, both were dressed with sparkly cone party hats crooked on their heads.
Given their lips were smashed together in a confetti storm, I assumed they were at a party.
Squinting at the dark gray sofa they sat on and a brick wall behind it, I recognized Vaughn's photography studio.
They're so cute.
I want my midnight kiss.
Sighing, I caught his previous message.
AdamBigJohnson: Lunch Junebug. Not an invite, a demand!
By the time I stepped into the hallway, I leaned against the hallway wall and typed my response. Before I submit, our other group member posted a message.
Celia: Happy New Years!
me: Next week?
Celia: I'm in! Juneau whenever you're free.
AdamBigJohnson: 👍
AdamBigJohnson: Now go get some D from Daddy Damian.
Rolling my eyes, I slipped my phone back into my pocket. Sighing with another reminder of why I regretted telling Adam about Damian's daddy kink aversion, I wondered what both guys' reactions would be if Damian found out Adam called him that in our group chat. Celia told me she gagged every time she saw it, probably why Adam used it so much.
Poor Celia.
"Juneau?" Dr. Harris' voice called out. "Surgery Room One all set?"
"Oh!" I silenced my phone, tucked it into my pocket, and sprinted down the hallway. "Yes, why?"
"Barney swallowed... something," he muttered about the golden retriever. "I'm administering a lavage now, going to attempt an endoscopic retrieval first."
My eyes lifted to Luca, who approached with an uneasy smile. "Hope you're up for more poop," I teased, leading him down into the first surgery room.
"Disinfect every area." I sprayed and wiped the table and trays down. "Even though they're already sterile, I do it anyway."
"All the supplies are in these closets." I pointed to Room One's closet. "We'll need the standard endoscopy tools, scopes, camera, plus the vices."
"For... his..." Luca circled a hand around his mouth and swallowed.
"Maybe. We've got two holes, up to down or down to up." I grabbed the anal cavity openers. "I'm going to set out both options and Dr. Harris makes the call."
Luca and I filled the surgery tray filled with Frankenstein devices, from the endo grips, tunnel scope, IV bags, to the exam table set, then rejoined Dr. Harris. Poor Barney laid on his side, eyes closed with an IV set in his front paw.
"Borrowed time, you can do the next one," he promised with a grimace, administering the anesthesia.
Looking up, as the Xray screen image, my lips parted in a gasp. Barney's body was pictured, the ribs and hip bones obvious but I frowned at large, rounded, white forms between them.
"What are they?" I tipped my head, holding open the door while Luca hoisted the dog up into his arms.
"I have my suspicions." Dr. Harris snapped on a surgical mask and face shield as we walked. "We'll find out when we get in there."
With a grunt, Luca rested Barney onto the exam table, then wiped his damp forehead with his elbow. His cheeks paled as we strapped down Barney, redirecting the overhead light and dressing into surgery gowns and masks.
"You alright?" I whispered as Dr. Harris set the mouth vices.
"I'll be..." he swallowed when Dr. Harris inserted the camera scope into Barney's stomach.
"Deep breaths." I patted Luca's shoulder, then stepped shoulder to shoulder with Dr. Harris.
All part of the job.
"Can't believe you were right." I giggled at Dr. Harris as we moved Barney to a recovery area.
"This is... not a highlight of my career," he joked, snapping a picture of the three pairs of white men's underwear he removed from Barney's stomach. "But I'm confident he'll make a recovery."
"Normally, I'd talk to the owner," Dr. Harris removed his surgical gear, tossing it into a nearby HAZMAT bin. "But I want to check on that mixed rescue. Can you escort them back here?"
"Of course." I curled my fingers at Luca to follow. He trailed behind me, with heavier shuffled steps than he started tonight's shift with, so I offered, "Gets easier."
He threw me a tired smile. I pressed my palms into the lobby door and glanced at Barney's paperwork. "This is part of the good part, promise."
I didn't even call out Barney's owner's name when the man who brought him in sprung from his lobby chair and approached. His eyes wide and hands clenched, he begged, "Please, tell me -"
"Barney's fine," I assured him, smiling when his shoulders relaxed, and he exhaled. "He's still out from surgery but you can come back to see him if you'd like."
"Yes please," he breathed out.
My lips curled inward because I was sure he was going to be in for a surprise. Luca and I got about two steps to the door when a woman's voice cried out, freezing my steps.
"Help! I need help! My poor Teddy. His eye, please!"
Following the sound of the voice, my mouth dropped open at an older woman hurrying up to the desk. Wearing a long, brown coat, she clutched a Yorkshire terrier into her chest and tears rolled out her eyes. Looking over his eyes, the left one was red, swollen, and protruded half an inch out of its socket.
This is not a good night for dogs.
Stepping closer, my eyes softened at the fine strands of gray hair sprawling in every direction, a wild look in her brown eyes, her house slippers, and -
Oh my gosh.
With no hesitation, I walked right up to her. "I'm Juneau. Please, come back with me."
The woman's lips trembled, vibrating the skin under her chin. "Thank you," she whispered, her tears spilling down her cheeks. "My poor Teddy, please. You have to help my Teddy."
"We will," I assured her, ignoring the wide-eyed look Courtney sent me.
Once I steered the woman past the front lobby desk, Court's eyes shot wide and she cupped a hand over her mouth. I mouthed, 'I know.' Steering the woman through the back door, I promised her, "Don't worry. You've come to the right place. Promise, you're in good hands."