Home > The Choice(8)

The Choice(8)
Author: Nicholas Sparks

“You’ve got to come.” Gabby gasped. “Molly’s in trouble.”

Travis reacted on instinct; as Gabby began racing back to her house, he retrieved a medical bag from behind the passenger seat in the truck, the one he used for the occasional livestock call that required him to treat animals on farms. His father had always stressed the importance of keeping it fully stocked with anything he might need, and Travis had taken the message to heart. By then, Gabby was almost at her door, and she left it open, disappearing into the house. Travis followed a moment later and spotted her in the kitchen, near the open door that led to the garage.

“She’s panting and vomiting,” she said as he hurried to her side. “And . . . something’s hanging out of her.” Travis took in the scene instantly, recognizing the prolapsed uterus and hoping he wasn’t too late.

“Let me wash my hands,” he said quickly. He scrubbed his hands briskly at the kitchen sink, going on as he scrubbed: “Is there any way you can get some more light in there? Like a lamp or something?”

“Aren’t you going to bring her into the clinic?”

“Probably,” he said, keeping his voice level. “But not this instant. I want to try something first. And I do need a light, okay? Can you do that for me?”

“Yeah, yeah . . . of course.” She vanished from the kitchen, returning a moment later with a lamp. “Is she going to be okay?”

“I’ll know in a couple of minutes how serious it is.” Holding up his hands like a surgeon, he nodded toward the bag on the floor. “Could you bring that in for me, too? Just put the bag over there and find a place to plug in the lamp. As close to Molly as you can get, okay?”

“Okay,” she said, trying not to panic.

Travis approached the dog carefully as Gabby plugged in the light, noting with some relief that Molly was conscious. He could hear her whimpering, which was normal in a situation like this. Next, he focused on the tubular mass that protruded from her vulva and looked over at the puppies, fairly certain that whelping had occurred within the last half hour, which was good, he thought. Less chance of necrosis . . .

“What now?” she asked.

“Just hold her and whisper to her. I need you to help keep her calm.”

When Gabby was in place, Travis squatted next to the dog, listening as Gabby murmured and whispered to her, their faces close together. Molly’s tongue lapped out, another good sign. He gently checked the uterus, and Molly twitched slightly.

“What’s wrong with her?”

“It’s a uterine prolapse. It means that part of the uterus has turned inside out, and it’s protruding.” He felt the uterus, turning it gently to see if there were any ruptures or necrotic areas. “Were there any problems with the whelping?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I didn’t even know it was happening. She’s going to be okay, right?”

Focused on the uterus, he didn’t answer. “Reach into the bag,” he said. “There should be some saline. And I’ll need the jelly, too.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I need to clean the uterus, and then I’m just going to manipulate it a bit. I want to try to manually reduce it, and if we’re lucky, it’ll contract back in on its own. If not, I’ll have to bring her in for surgery. I’d rather avoid that if at all possible.”

Gabby found the saline and the jelly and handed them over. Travis rinsed the uterus, then rinsed it two more times before reaching for the lubricating jelly, hoping it would work.

Gabby couldn’t bear to watch, so she concentrated on Molly, her mouth close to Molly’s ear as she whispered over and over what a good dog she was. Travis stayed quiet, his hand moving rhythmically over the uterus.

She didn’t know how long they were in the garage—it could have been ten minutes or it could have been an hour—but finally, she saw Travis lean back, as if trying to relieve the tension in his shoulders. It was then she noticed that his hands were free.

“Is it over?” she ventured. “Is she all right?”

“Yes and no,” he said. “Her uterus is back in place, and it seemed to contract without any problems, but she needs to go to the clinic. She’s going to need to take it easy for a couple of days while she gets her strength back, and she’ll need some antibiotics and fluids. I’ll have to do an X-ray as well. But if there are no further complications, she should be good as new. What I’m going to do now is back my truck up to the garage. I’ve got some old blankets she can lie on.”

“And it won’t . . . fall back out?”

“It shouldn’t. Like I said, it contracted normally.”

“What about the puppies?”

“We’ll bring them. They need to be with their mama.”

“And that won’t hurt her?”

“It shouldn’t. But that’s why she needs fluids. So the puppies can nurse.”

Gabby felt her shoulders relax; she hadn’t realized how tense they’d become. For the first time, she smiled. “I don’t know how to thank you,” she said.

“You just did.”

After cleaning up, Travis carefully loaded Molly into the truck while Gabby started with the puppies. Once all six were settled, Travis repacked the bag and tossed it onto the front seat. He walked around the truck and opened the driver’s-side door.

“I’ll let you know how it goes,” he said.

“I’m coming.”

“It would be better if she got some rest, and if you’re in the room, that might not happen. She needs to recover. Don’t worry—I’ll take good care of her. I’ll be with her all night. You have my word on that.”

She hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“She’ll be fine. I promise.”

She considered what he’d said, then offered a tremulous smile. “You know, in my line of work, we’re taught never to promise anything. We’re told to say that we’ll do our best.”

“Would you feel better if I didn’t promise?”

“No. But I still think I should come with you.”

“Don’t you have to work tomorrow?”

“Yes. But so do you.”

“True, but this is my job. It’s what I do. And besides, I have a cot. If you came, you’d have to sleep on the floor.”

“You mean you wouldn’t give me the cot?”

He climbed into the truck. “I suppose I could if I had to,” he said, grinning. “But I’m concerned about what your boyfriend would think if you and I spent the night together.”

“How did you know I have a boyfriend?”

He reached for the door. “I didn’t,” he said, sounding faintly disappointed. Then he smiled, recovering. “Let me bring her in, okay? And call me tomorrow. I’ll let you know how it went.”

“Yeah,” she relented. “Okay.”

Travis closed the door, and she heard the engine rattle to a start. He leaned out the window. “Don’t worry,” he said again. “She’s going to be fine.”

He eased toward the road, then turned left. In the distance, he waved at her out the window. Gabby waved in return, though she knew he couldn’t see it, watching the red lights fade as they rounded the corner.

After he left, Gabby wandered to the bedroom and stood in front of the bureau. She’d always known she’d never be the type to stop traffic, but for the first time in ages, she found herself staring into the mirror and wondering what someone besides Kevin thought when he saw her.

Despite her exhaustion and unruly hair, she didn’t look as bad as she feared. The thought pleased her, though she wasn’t sure why. Unaccountably, she recalled the disappointment on Travis’s face when she’d told him about her boyfriend, and she flushed. It wasn’t as if she felt any differently toward Kevin. . . .

She’d certainly been wrong about Travis Parker, wrong about everything from the beginning. He’d been so steady during the emergency. It still amazed her, though she shouldn’t have been surprised. It was his job, after all, she reminded herself.

With that, she decided to call Kevin. He was immediately sympathetic, promising to be there within minutes.

“How’re you holding up?” Kevin asked.

Gabby leaned into him. His arm felt good around her. “Anxious, I guess.”

He pulled her closer, and she could smell him, fresh and clean, as if he’d showered right before coming over. His hair, unkempt and windblown, made him look like a college student.

“I’m glad your neighbor was there,” he said. “Travis, right?”

“Yeah.” She looked over. “Do you know him?”

“Not really,” he said. “We do the insurance for the clinic, but that’s one of the accounts my dad still handles.”

“I thought this was a small town and you knew everyone.”

“It is. But I grew up in Morehead City, and as a kid, I didn’t hang out with anyone from Beaufort. Besides, I think he’s a few years older than me. He was probably off to college by the time I started high school.”

She nodded. In the silence, her thoughts circled back to Travis, his serious expression as he worked on Molly, the quiet assurance in his voice as he explained what was wrong. In the silence, she felt a vague current of guilt, and she leaned in to nuzzle Kevin’s neck. Kevin stroked her shoulder, his touch comforting in its familiarity. “I’m glad you came over,” she whispered. “I really needed you here tonight.”

He kissed her hair. “Where else would I be?”

“I know, but you had that meeting, and you’re leaving early tomorrow.”

“No big deal. It’s just a convention. It’ll take me ten minutes to pack, tops. I just wish I could have gotten here sooner.”

“You probably would have been grossed out.”

“Probably. But I still feel bad.”

“Don’t. There’s no reason to.”

He stroked her hair. “Do you want me to postpone my trip? I’m sure my dad would understand if I stay around here tomorrow.”

“No, that’s okay. I’ve got to work anyway.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” she said. “But thanks for asking. That means a lot to me.”

Six

After finding his son crashed on the cot and a dog in the recovery room, Max Parker listened as Travis explained what had happened. Max filled two cups with coffee and brought them both to the table.

“Not bad for your first time,” Max said. With his white hair and bushy white eyebrows, he was the picture of a well-liked small-town veterinarian.

“Have you ever treated a dog for it?”

“Never,” Max admitted. “Treated a horse once, though. You know how rare it is. Molly seems to be doing fine now. She sat up and wagged her tail when I came in this morning. How late were you up with her?”

Travis sipped the coffee with gratitude. “Most of the night. I wanted to make sure it didn’t recur.”

“It usually doesn’t,” he said. “It’s a good thing you were there. Have you called the owner yet?”

“No. But I will.” He wiped his face. “Man, I’m exhausted.”

“Why don’t you go get some sleep? I can handle things here, and I’ll keep an eye on Molly.”

“I don’t want to put you out.”

“You’re not,” Max said with a grin. “Don’t you remember? You’re not supposed to be here. It’s Friday.”

A few minutes later, after checking in on Molly, Travis pulled into his driveway and got out of the car. He stretched his arms overhead, then headed over to Gabby’s place. As he crossed her driveway, he saw the newspaper poking out of the box and, after a brief hesitation, pulled it out. On her porch a moment later, he was just about to knock when he heard the sound of approaching footsteps and the door swung open. Gabby straightened, surprised to see him.

“Oh, hey . . . ,” she said, letting go of the door. “I was just thinking that I should call you.”

Though barefoot, she was dressed in slacks and an off-white blouse, her hair fastened loosely by an ivory clip. He noted again how attractive she was, but today it struck him that her appeal lay more in an unfeigned openness than conventional good looks.

She just seemed so . . . real. “Since I was on my way home, I thought I’d let you know in person. Molly’s doing fine.”

“You’re sure?”

He nodded. “I did an X-ray, and I didn’t see any indication of internal bleeding. Once she got some fluids in, she seemed to get her strength back. She could probably come home later today, but I’d like to keep her one more night, just to be safe. Actually, my dad will watch her for a while. I was up most of the night, so I’m going to bed, but I’ll check on her myself later.”

“Can I see her?”

“Sure,” he said. “You can see her anytime. Just remember that she might still be a little doped up, though, since I had to administer some sedatives so she’d be calm for the X-ray and to help with the pain.” He paused. “The puppies are doing well, too, by the way. They’re cute as bugs.”

She smiled, liking the gentle twang of his accent, surprised that she hadn’t noticed it before. “I just want to thank you again,” she said. “I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”

He waved it off. “I was glad to help.” He held out the newspaper. “Which reminds me, I grabbed this for you, too.”

“Thanks,” she said, taking it.

For an awkward beat, they faced each other silently.

“Would you like a cup of coffee?” she offered. “I just brewed a pot.”

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