Wedding Bell Blues - [34]

Lily wondered if there was a more unpleasant word in the English language than oozing.

“Any pus?” Dr. Jack asked, answering Lily’s unspoken question.

“No.” Giving up on eating any yogurt herself, she instead spooned it into Mimi’s gaping mouth.

“Okay, then, why don’t you just bring him into the office in ten days, and we’ll get those stitches out. Ifhe has any problems before then, be sure and call me.”

Lily knew that Dr. Jack was winding down their phone conversation, but she didn’t want to let hergo until she had asked her about another matter. “Dr. Jack?”

“Uh-huh.”

“There was something else I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Uh-huh?” She sounded puzzled.

“I, uh ... I don’t think I mentioned this to you the other day, but I write and illustrate — that is,draw the pictures —” She mentally kicked herself for explaining what illustrate meant. The Dr. in Dr.

Jack’s name meant she probably understood the meaning of three-syllable words. “Children’s books.”

“Is that a fact?” Dr. Jack sounded mildly interested, but still puzzled.

“Yeah. I was thinking about what you said about going on farm calls with your dad when youwere a little girl, and I thought that a story about a little girl who did that might make a good picture

“Ha!” Dr. Jack laughed. “I don’t think anybody’s ever thought of me as literary material before.”She was silent for a moment. “Seriously, though, I like the idea. Daddy died last year. A book like thatmight be a good way to remember him.”

“We could even dedicate it to him if you wanted,” Lily said.

“Hmm.”

Lily waited for her to add something, but she never did. Finally she jumped in. “The thing is, I’mkind of a city girl, and I’d really need to spend some time around farm animals in order to draw themwell. So I was wondering if maybe I could go on a few farm calls with you. I’d stay out of your way, ofcourse —”

Dr. Jack laughed — a deep, low chuckle. “I don’t know. A city girl has to get up pretty early in themornin’ to go on a farm call.”

“I can handle that. I’m kind of a morning person anyway.” That last part was a big lie, but shedidn’t want Dr. Jack to stereotype her as a night-owl urbanite.

“Well, you just keep your drawing things packed then, Mrs. McGilly, ’cause I’ll be calling you onemornin’ without any notice.”

Lily hung up the phone and realized that the conversation had made her so nervous that she hadbeen spooning yogurt into Mimi’s mouth faster than she could eat it.

Dr. Jack hadn’t been kidding about the early part. On Saturday morning, when the clock read fourseventeen, the phone rang. “Hello?” Lily croaked.

“Hey. I thought you said you were a mornin’ person,” Dr. Jack laughed. “Just got a call about asow in trouble. You wanna come?”

“Sure, I guess so.”

“You live on that road out by the Free Will Baptist, don’tcha?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’ll come by and get you then. I’m on my way.”

Lily threw on yesterday’s clothes and splashed some water on her face. She bumped into Ben onher way out of the bathroom.

“Was it that bull dyke veterinarian on the phone?” he asked, rubbing his heavy-lidded eyes.

“Now, now, dear, that’s not a very politically correct way to refer to her.”

“Nobody who calls at four o’clock on a Saturday morning gets the PC treatment,” Ben muttered.

“I shouldn’t be gone long,” Lily said. “I don’t think Mimi will wake up before I get back, but ifshe does, you can look after her, right?”

“Hey, what are self-proclaimed fathers for?”

Dr. Jack came to fetch Lily in a faded red Chevy pickup. It was impossible to imagine her drivinganything else. “Hop on in, Mrs. McGilly,” she said, grinning. Dr. Jack, clearly a morning person, lookedalert and cheerful despite the fact that it wasn’t even five a.m.

“Please call me Lily.” Pretty please, she thought. “Lily McGilly!” Dr. Jack laughed.

“Trust me. You’re not the first person to find my married name amusing.”

“I guess not. Well, some folks call me Jack, and some folks call me Doc. You take your pick —justas long as you don’t call me by my given name.”

“Which is?”

“Jacqueline. My momma got it outta some book she was reading. It never did suit me. Her givingme that name was just like her putting me in frilly dresses all the time. Pretty things just don’t suit me. Iwas always the plain, practical type. Not like Momma.”

“Is your mother still alive?”

“As far as I know. ’Course, the last time I heard anything was probably four years ago. She wasstill living down in Florida then. That’s where she went when she left Daddy and me. She left Daddy foranother man when I was seven years old, but she didn’t stay with him either. She couldn’t be satisfiedwith nothin’ . . . she was the restless type. I think that’s one of the things that got on her nerves aboutDaddy and me: We were both content to stay in the same place and do the same thing. Not a restless bonein our bodies.”

“Hmm,” Lily said. “I think a lot of women in your mother’s generation were probably dissatisfied,always thinking they’d be happier with some other man, when the source of their unhappiness was really