Tales From Sea Glass Inn (9 page)

“Yes, Mom, I know Pam wants me to be an art
major, but you saw my final project for the drawing class I took last semester.
What a disaster.” Danny wiped his hands and neatly folded his napkin.
“Actually, I’ve kind of been thinking of vet school. Jenny and I were talking
about it, and after working with the animals here at the center, I’m even more
convinced I’d like to try.”

“Really?” Mel asked with a proud smile on her
face. “You haven’t mentioned it before, but I can see it being a good fit for
you. You’ve always been great with animals.”

“If you’re interested in the medical field,
you might want to consider working with people instead of animals,” Lars said,
taking a sip of coffee. “The opportunities for helping others are limitless,
and you’d be making a real contribution to the world.”

Mel and Danny sent shocked looks Jenny’s way,
as if they were hoping she hadn’t heard the comment. She’d heard it too many
times to be bothered by it anymore. She took another slice of toast and coated
it with butter and a drizzle of honey. “I think you’re a natural, Danny. If you
need a letter of recommendation, count on me. Vet school admissions committees
love to see this kind of volunteer work on applications.”

“Thanks, Jenny,” he said. “I just might take
you up on that.”

Jenny didn’t miss the look her parents
exchanged. She could already feel them gearing up for The Talk.

*

Jenny was silent on the way to the center.
Her parents had talked nonstop yesterday about Cannon Beach, the beauty of the
area, and the work Jenny was doing here. Today, they had already moved on and
were focused on their upcoming trip. She wouldn’t be surprised if they left as
unexpectedly as they’d come. She was sure they’d remember some city or research
library or colleague they desperately needed to visit before they left the
States. She wouldn’t take it personally when it happened. By now she knew they
weren’t trying to cut their visit with her short but merely shifting ahead to
the next stop on their never-ending journey. They couldn’t stop their itch to
get moving again. It was their nature as a couple and as doctors.

Even as she listened to their chatter, Jenny
replayed the scene from breakfast in her mind. Mel obviously had an interest in
Danny’s future, and she had ideas about what might be good for him. But the
moment he mentioned a different choice he was considering, Mel was right there
with him. Jenny had no doubt Mel and Pam would encourage and support him no
matter what career he picked. Her parents had been thrown into relief against
the backdrop of Mel’s unconditional acceptance, pushing their agenda as always.
Again, Jenny couldn’t blame them or get angry. Again, it was their nature.

But was it hers? She knew she’d never go to
med school. She couldn’t imagine a life without animals—caring for them and
protecting them. She’d felt confident in her choice and proud of herself for
following her own heart. But had she truly committed to living her own life?
She sometimes wondered if her insistence on constant travel was really her own
decision, or a way of atoning for her rebellious decision to be a vet. Or maybe
she’d taken the easiest path, the one most familiar to her. She treated the
patients of her choice, but she mimicked her family’s chosen method of doing
so.

Jenny pushed the jumble of thoughts out of
her mind as they pulled in to the parking lot. Right now, she was more
concerned about Helen. Would she be here this morning? Would there be tension
between them? They’d done nothing more than sleep in the same bed, but Jenny
had a feeling the night had affected Helen just as deeply as it had her.
Otherwise, she wouldn’t have left without a word.

She got out of the car and her heart jumped
when she saw Helen running across the lot toward her. She hesitated for a
moment before she recognized the worried expression on Helen’s face. Jenny knew
trouble when she saw it.

“What’s wrong?” she called, sprinting toward
Helen. Had something happened to the birds? One of the volunteers? Helen?

Helen stopped, gasping for breath, and
grabbed Jenny’s sleeve. “Amy Hansen. Her dog. Hit by a car.”

“Is she inside?”

Helen nodded. “In the back room. The nearest
emergency vet is in Seaside. Too far.”

Jenny squeezed her shoulder and took off
toward the door to the auditorium. Amy was one of her regular volunteers. As
tireless as the rest of the Cannon Beach citizens, Amy had been involved in
nearly every aspect of the center’s work. Jenny burst through the door with
Helen right on her heels and jogged to the small room where she stored the vet
supplies she brought to every site. She never knew what type of animal she’d
need to treat. Here, she mostly took care of shorebirds, but she’d also treated
sea animals and the occasional house pet that had ingested oil.

Amy was leaning over a folding table, her
arms wrapped around a medium-sized yellow Lab. Her little boy, Sam, was beside
her, crying and holding a corner of the blanket that covered the dog. Jenny had
seen the child here a few times, playing with Tia while his mother worked with
the birds.

“Hi, Sam. Can you tell me your dog’s name?”

“Buddy. Can you save him?”

“I’ll do my best. How old is Buddy?”

Jenny moved to the table while she asked a
series of questions, more to get Sam talking and relaxed than to get
information. She’d learn what she needed from Buddy himself. She nodded at
Helen, and as if they were communicating mentally, Helen stepped into Amy’s
place and put her hands gently on the still form of the dog. Amy backed away
and leaned against the far wall with Sam in her arms.

Jenny murmured instructions to Helen as she
examined the dog. Outwardly, her voice sounded calm and her hands were steady
as she checked the Lab’s limbs, cleaned and sutured a large gash on his hip,
and took X-rays with her portable machine. Inside, on the contrary, she was
panic-stricken. What if he didn’t make it? What if there was something she
couldn’t fix? When she was on the job, she had hundreds, sometimes thousands,
of patients. Some made it, some didn’t. She cared about every single one of
them, but Buddy was different.

Jenny shaved the hair around another deep
cut. This animal belonged to people she knew. She had always considered small-scale
vet work to be less significant than what she did, but she’d been wrong. She
glanced back at Amy and Sam, both with tear-drenched cheeks. The stakes seemed
higher because she herself was connected to this circle of animal and owner,
like when she had helped Danny with Piper.

Jenny finished the last stitch and snipped
the end of the suture. Buddy had been nonresponsive to his surroundings at
first, but he was beginning to look around again. Jenny motioned for Amy and
Sam to come over to the table, and Buddy’s tail weakly fanned the air when they
came close.

“He has a slight concussion and two deep
cuts. No broken bones. I gave him antibiotics, but I’d suggest getting him to
your regular vet to make certain there’s no internal bleeding or other serious
problem. I can only do so much here, but he’s stable and should be fine to
move.”

“I can drive you to Seaside,” Helen offered.

Jenny got Danny and her parents to help move
Buddy to Helen’s car on a makeshift stretcher. Helen shut the door behind them,
leaving her alone in the room with Jenny. “You were awesome,” she said, walking
over and hugging Jenny tightly.

Jenny’s hands shook where they rested on
Helen’s back. She nuzzled into the warmth of Helen’s skin and inhaled a scent
of vanilla and spice. “Thank you for helping.” The words were inadequate, but
Jenny knew they both had experienced the same depth of emotion. Concern for one
of their own, fear, a sagging relief. They didn’t need to put words to the
feelings to make them more real than they already were.

Helen pulled back and rested her hand on
Jenny’s cheek. “I’m sorry I left this morning. It was just…It’s all too much…I
love spending time with you and learning about you, but I want more.”

Jenny put her palm over Helen’s hand and
pressed it close. “I do, too. I just don’t have more to offer. My time is
limited here, but maybe we can talk on the phone and write. Then the next time
I’m near here, we can arrange to meet.”

Helen shook her head. “I don’t want a pen
pal, Jenny. I want this.” She put her arms around Jenny’s neck and kissed her.

Jenny thought she had uncovered every side of
loneliness in her lifetime, but until she felt its lack, when it suddenly and
explosively vanished at the touch of Helen’s lips on hers, Jenny realized she’d
never truly understood what she had been missing. Jenny explored Helen’s mouth
gently with her tongue. The sweet, sweet taste of her. The passion between them
stayed soft, hovering near the edge of the kiss, and Jenny felt its energy.
Waiting to be unleashed, if only there weren’t people waiting outside for
Helen. If only Jenny didn’t have to leave.

If only…

Helen pulled back as if she felt the good-bye
in Jenny’s kiss. “This is what I want, every day and every night. Not once a
year when you happen to be passing near the West Coast on your way to someplace
else.”

She turned and walked out the door. Jenny
dropped into the closest chair and rested her elbows on her knees. She wasn’t
sure what to think anymore. Her values hadn’t changed since she’d come here,
but the way she wanted to express them had. She stood up and started to put her
instruments away. Her world was upside down here, and she wasn’t sure how to
handle the resulting vertigo. She’d have to fall back on her old standby. Hard
work. She flipped off the light and went out to greet her next hundred
patients.

*

Helen dropped Amy, Sam, and Buddy at their
house and drove slowly back to the center. Before she got to the street leading
to the auditorium, she turned left instead and parked at the end of a beach
access road. Yellow tape and warning signs marked the beach as closed, but she
got out and climbed a concrete retaining wall that separated the parking lot
from the shore. The sun was warm on the back of her neck and the sand in front
of her was relatively clean already. A soft breeze lifted her hair.

A perfect day. The town should be filled to
the gills with tourists. She should be sweating from the heat of overworked
ovens in the bakery’s kitchen, turning out tray after tray of baked goods for
hungry beachgoers. A run to the bank in the late afternoon with a hefty
deposit, and then back to work prepping for the next morning’s baking.

Helen drew her knees up and clasped her arms
around them. She had uprooted her life yet again to come to Cannon Beach,
fooling herself with a deep certainty that she was finally coming home. She’d
had nearly three months of promising sales before the spill changed everything.
Now she was witness to the devastation of her beautiful new home and its
inhabitants—human, animal, and avian. She’d worked harder in the past weeks
than ever before, even when she had juggled three jobs during culinary school.
Backbreaking, monotonous, sad work. She’d watched helplessly as her savings and
sales had dwindled to nothing. She’d realized how ideal this place was for her
while she was watching it slip out of her grasp. The people here, the laid-back
lifestyle, and the constant exposure to a gorgeous natural setting: this was
everything she’d dreamed of having, all those nights when she was shivering in
an abandoned warehouse or enduring her uncle’s tirades or laboring up to her
elbows in greasy dishwater. Soon, within the next few weeks, the dream would be
over.

She should be devastated, bone-tired, and in
despair. She pushed her hair back and wiped wind-caused tears from her eyes.
Oddly enough, she felt lighter than she ever had. Not exactly happy, but filled
with purpose and a sense of rightness. Banding together with her community had
been a new experience for her. She might have been reluctant to get involved at
first, preferring to protect herself by remaining aloof, but once she started
working side by side with Mel and the others, she’d come to value the community
spirit they shared. Jenny had been right—Helen could have delayed her
bankruptcy a bit if she had quit spending so much time at the center and had
stopped baking for the volunteers. But she wouldn’t trade the kinship she’d
experienced for any business success she would have celebrated all alone.

Getting closer to Jenny had been special as
well. Helen had never felt such a profound attraction to another person. Looks
aside—although Jenny’s were enough to turn Helen’s head—Jenny had character and
integrity. No matter whether she kept up her grueling travel schedule or
settled in one place, Jenny would doubtless spend her life in service to
animals and the people who cared about them. She inspired Helen to be better,
to look beyond her own needs and help others. Helen had trusted Jenny with her
story and with her fears, and Jenny had done the same with her. She had found
someone who excited her and, at the same time, settled her restless heart.

Helen jumped off the low wall and got back in
her car. The morning had been a crazy one. She had woken early, safely wrapped
in Jenny’s arms, and she had quietly extricated herself from the embrace. Not
because she’d wanted to go, but because both she and Jenny had to go. Jenny, to
her next destination. Helen, to…well, she wasn’t sure. She’d have to find a new
goal and start from step one to achieve it.

Helen had sat in Jenny’s room for almost an
hour, watching her sleep and examining what she really wanted in life. A month
ago, she wouldn’t have been able to see any option beyond the bakery. It had
meant independence to her, and the freedom to burrow into a life and not be
forced to leave it again. Now she saw other paths her life could take. Would
any of them coincide with Jenny’s? Helen had never wanted a roaming lifestyle
and she had done whatever it took to avoid living that way. But maybe the
constant sense of being unsettled and insecure would be okay if she wasn’t
facing it alone. And maybe more kisses like the one she and Jenny had shared
would eventually erase from Helen’s heart any concern about moving. She’d be
grounded by Jenny’s touch.