That Perfect Place Read online

  ML Carr

  copyright©2014 ML Carr.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form, or stored in database or retrieval system without written consent of the copyright holder.

  ISBN13: 9781494257637

  ISBN 10: 1494257637

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2014911594

  CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform

  North Charleston, South Carolina

  The following is a work of fiction. Although some of the locations are real, the characters and events are strictly the product of the author’s overworked imagination.

  visit ML Carr on facebook.

  This is dedicated to fan base Beth.

  Beth DK and my Beth (a.k.a. Liz)

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  ho would have thought you could have trouble getting full-time work with a doctorate? I love being a vet, but I feel like a failure.” Jill paused in her packing. “I’ve been in two places where we were glad to part ways and had one great job that I spoiled with a lousy marriage.”

  “Jillian, we’ve been over this; it isn’t you that’s the problem. Honestly, get some self-confidence,” Tina said as she carefully applied the first coat of polish to her nails.

  “Don’t you ever have any doubts?”

  “I learned early on not to set the bar too high on expectations. That way, when something works out it’s a nice surprise.”

  “Come on, you always seem so confident.”

  “Jills, that’s sheer bravado. Act like you’re confident and in charge and no one will question you on it.”

  “I’ll try.”

  Tina shook her head. How could someone who had always been a straight-A student be such an insecure mess?

  “This place in Iowa is a mixed practice,” said Jill, wandering back to the subject foremost on her mind. “I hope the facility is decently equipped. Dr. Murdoch said the building is new.”

  “Well, I wish you had the resources to open a clinic of your own,” her sister said without looking up from her nail painting. “I’d sure like to see you put our locals out of business. I’m sure they killed John’s cow.” She waved her hand to speed the drying.

  “That isn’t going to happen at least until my school loans are paid off.” Jill plopped down on the same calico quilt that had covered her bed since she was a girl. “I guess my hopes of a home and family are dead as well. It would have been perfect if Tom and I had worked out.” She heaved a sigh.

  Tina paused in her manicure. “You mean if Tom hadn’t been a lazy, philandering, critical piece of shit?”

  “Let’s just say he wasn’t good father material. His parents were certainly no prize either, definitely an SNL skit there.” Jill gave a harsh laugh and went to the dormer window overlooking her parents’ dairy farm. The oak trees in front of the window were not yet leafed out, so the cow pastures on the south side of the drive and the hay barn on the right were in view, but she wasn’t seeing them. I’ve done nothing right since leaving vet school.

  With the ink still wet on her diploma, she had taken a staff job with a large practice in Milwaukee and stuck it out for two years until they let her go for not keeping up her quota on procedures. I refused to order unnecessary treatment and overcharge for everything, so I was glad to leave. But then she only lasted three months at her next position with the rural practice near home. Nothing she did was right by them, and most of what they did was way out of sync with her. I will not practice bad medicine, she told herself when she quit.

  Jill was doing temp work when she met Tom Carver. He had offered full-time work at his uncle’s place in Marietta—and later, marriage. She endured five years there before filing for divorce. The work was great, but the marriage had been more like indentured servitude.

  So here she was, with lousy references, getting ready to interview for a position in rural Iowa. If it didn’t work out she would apply for the next open position at Ohio State, her alma mater. She had felt good there, like she was a valued member of a professional, caring team. At this point in time, that feeling was all she wanted.

  A few hours later the car was loaded and Jill was saying good-bye.

  “Jillian, don’t stay if you don’t feel comfortable,” her mother said, hugging her.

  Her father made a face. “Sooner or later you have to make a stand somewhere, Girlie. We all have to shovel some shit in our lives.”

  “Cyril, what a thing to say.”

  “No, he’s right, Mom. If I can’t have my own place I have to learn to fit in, even if it means compromising my ideals.”

  As Jill stood next to her father, her resemblance to him was unmistakable with their wavy black hair and blue eyes.

  Jill climbed into her little blue Ford and buckled up. “I’ll call tomorrow evening and let you know how it seems.”

  Jake trudged toward his room in the back of the farmhouse trying not to make any noise and wake the sleepers upstairs. He collapsed onto the bed. It had been an endless day, starting with a tearful phone call at 5:00 a.m. from Emma Murdoch, his partner’s wife.

  “Jake, I’m at the hospital. Dave’s had a heart attack.”

  “Is someone with you?” He sprang up, fully awake. “Do you want me to come down?”

  “Megan and Seth are both here. We’ll keep you posted. You just keep the vet practice going for us.”

  And he had—from seven o’clock in the morning until midnight he dealt with his own patients and as many of Dave’s calls as he could. He had just drifted off, the smell of farm animals still sticking to his skin, when little feet padded into his room. An undersized seven-year-old with a glowworm flashlight climbed into his bed.

  “Jakey, I had a bad dream. Can I stay with you?”

  “What about Ida?” he mumbled as he turned over and rubbed his head.

  “Her door’s locked. She’s mad at me for being wild.”

  “Did you drink the red juice again?”

  “She gave it to me.”

  “Use the bathroom. I don’t want you peeing the bed.”

  “I already did.”

  “OK.” He pulled the covers over her as she snuggled against him. As he drifted off he wondered if the child meant she had used the bathroom or wet the bed and decided it could wait until morning.

  Jill ground her teeth. Now that she was close to her destination, the phrase “no references” pounded in her ears with every road seam her car bumped over. I know I’m a competent vet, but how do I convince anyone else? She did have a few letters from her professors and some former clients, and she hoped they’d carry enough weight to get her a trial.

  She turned on the radio to drown out her thoughts and admired the Iowa landscape. It was early spring, and the buds on the trees were hopeful of better days to come. Her spirits felt the same: maybe this is the positive step that will allow me to bloom.

  Following Dr. Murdoch’s directions she turned down a dirt road and descended into a tree-lined hollow with a quaint iron bridge. She stopped to take in the beauty of the scene and calm her
nerves. Rocky hillsides rose sixty feet on one side dotted with trees and bushes through which the morning sun slanted down highlighting the stratified limestone. A narrow creek tumbled through the rocks. What a beautiful spot—not what I expected of Iowa. Resolving to come back with a camera, she accelerated out of the dip and turned left at the top of the hill. The clinic appeared in front of her, brand new and definitely larger than she had expected. A sprawling, newly sided farmhouse was on her left, surrounded by well-kept barns and fences. Oh, nice. Great spot.

  She parked between a pickup and a minivan and with her heart thudding uncomfortably, mounted the three shallow steps to the porch. A large sign announced that Jakob Gundersen and David Murdoch practiced here. She heard the tinkle of a bell in the distance as she pushed the door open into a large and airy reception area. There was an aviary with two parrots on her right, and the other end of the cavernous room was covered with shelves stacked floor to ceiling with veterinary and feed supplies. Chairs were arranged in the middle under an impressive mural depicting all sorts of animals being cared for by vets. A panoramic window let in tree-filtered sunlight.

  She paused. Impressive.

  The big parrot said something in what sounded like a foreign language, and a smaller gray bird bobbed up and down on his perch. Smiling, she greeted the birds, then headed for the reception desk where a stern-looking woman in her mid-forties, wearing scrubs was counting out pills for a young woman holding the leash of a cocker spaniel. A deliveryman was waiting impatiently for a signature, and another man had a bag of dog food in his arms. The woman, whose name tag identified her as Jeanine Van Slyke, was interrupted twice by the phone. She deftly handled the calls while signing the invoice. While she was running the client’s credit card she acknowledged Jill. “New vet?” she mouthed silently. Jill nodded and was motioned to go on back.

  “Down the hall, through the No Admittance door into the small-animal OR on the left.” She gestured with her arm as she hung up the phone— “He should be finishing up the dog spay about now”—and went back to her directions for the client.

  Jill heard the young woman with the spaniel comment as soon as Jill was out of sight, “I don’t think she’s what he was expecting.”

  Jill steeled herself for what was coming. They’re going to tell me I can’t do large animals because I’m a woman. I hope they’ll at least give me a chance. She entered the operating room with a bit more force than necessary, as much to buck up her own courage as anything else.

  The vet, she didn’t know if he was Murdoch or Gundersen, was bent over a dog stitching up its abdomen. There was no one else in the room. He finished carefully pulling the suture tight, cut it, looked up at her, and registered surprise.

  “First, let me just get one thing straight.” Misinterpreting his demeanor, she began more forcefully than she’d meant to. “I came from a mixed practice in Ohio that included several large dairies and a goat farm. I’m skilled with lameness in horses, so don’t think I can’t do large animals just because I’m a woman.”

  He straightened up and looked at her quizzically.

  Wow, he is tall.

  “I don’t have a problem with your gender. I asked for two vets though. We need the help. Actually, I was hoping you would be my lunch,” he said without heat.

  Having finished closing the incision, the vet pulled off his mask and hat, exposing a shock of unruly hair that matched his burnt umber eye color. He brought the table back to level and disconnected the tracheal tube from the anesthesia machine and stripped off his surgical gloves. While keeping an eye on his patient’s breathing, he hit the intercom button.

  “Jeanie, quit gossiping and bring me something to eat back here, hot and a lot.”

  “Why don’t you start on the cat castrations while I eat?” he said to Jill. “We have a cat spay and a half dozen appointments this afternoon. If you don’t mind seeing those, I can take care of the backlog on yesterday’s fieldwork.” He untied the dog’s legs and scooped her up as if a seventy-pound Golden Retriever were a toy poodle. After laying her carefully into a kennel, he checked the cards on the front of the cages that held the cats and began to fill syringes with Ketamine.

  Jill just stood there gaping. This is the oddest job interview ever.

  “You’re not the fill-in from Ames are you?” he finally asked as he stuck a yowling cat in the back of the neck with the needle.

  “I’m Jillian Maitland. I came to meet with Dr. Murdoch.”

  “That was today? Nuts, I forgot all about you.” He rubbed a large hand through his hair. “Let me just give you a picture of our situation, Dr. Maitland. This needs to be a three-man, excuse me, vet practice—we have that much work. We keep up our caseload with me, Murdoch, and Ellen Burco who comes part-time from Black Hawk County. Yesterday, Dave, Dr. Murdoch, that is, suffered a massive coronary, and Ellen is leaving soon. I’m just one guy and spread very thin right now. If you’re interested, we’ve got the work.”

  Jill didn’t miss a beat. “Where’re the scrubs?” She put down her purse and pulled her hair back with a tie.

  “Bless you. I’m Jake Gundersen, by the way.” He cleared away the mess from the dog spay and set up for the neuters.

  Jeanine hurried in with a heaping plate of chicken, vegetables, and a mound of mashed potatoes. She set the plate and a pitcher of iced tea on a counter and looked at Jill and mouthed to Jake, “Dave’s first pick.”

  He nodded and answered, “Yeah, I’ve got that figured out.” He removed the tube from the Goldie’s throat and checked her responses before he washed his hands and sat down to eat.

  “Please, excuse me, Dr. Maitland,” Jeanine said. “It didn’t dawn on me that you were here to interview with Dr. Murdoch until I sent you back here. The way he scribbled it on the calendar your appointment could have been today, tomorrow, or even next Wednesday. Things have been a little hectic here.”

  “What would you like on your name tag?” she continued. “Jillian Maitland, DVM, OK?”

  “Make it Jill, but…” Jeanine had already left the room. Jill shrugged and got to work.

  She made a quick job of it, efficiently finishing the three cats while the other vet ate. He kept an eye on her as he did. He saw a woman who appeared delicate and feminine while her actions were decisive and skillful. She was about five eight with medium-length, wavy, black hair, sapphire-blue eyes, and a pretty face with a mouth just begging to be kissed. Even makes scrubs look good, he thought. He asked if she had eaten.

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “Whether in the marines or vet service always grab a meal whenever possible, you never know when the next one comes.”

  Jill smiled. By the looks of him, Gundersen had missed a quite a few meals. He had to be close to six six and thin as a rail. He was passably handsome;—he had the high cheekbones and strong jaw of a Swede—but what caught you were his big, soulful eyes and thick lashes. He had a way of looking at you as if he were always hoping for something more. His movements had a certain angular grace.

  He finished eating, checked the dog again, and anesthetized the cat for spaying.

  “Jeanine will show you around and get anything you need. She’s our bookkeeper/receptionist,” he informed her as he washed his hands again. “Afternoon clinic hours start at two. Emma Murdoch will be back by then from visiting Dave in the hospital. She’ll put things straight back here and monitor the animals for you. She’s our lead tech. Our other full timer, Steph, is on her honeymoon and not due back till Monday. We have two kids who come in after school to clean. Emma will keep them busy unless you need something done. I’ve got four urgent calls to make and should be back by five. We’ll talk then, OK?” He didn’t wait for her answer, just headed out.

  Jill shook her head. Here she was worrying about getting the job and Gundersen hadn’t even checked to see if she had a diploma. They were either careless or desperate. She finished the spay and checked on the group in the cages who were in varying phases of waking up. When she
came out front Jeanine handed her a lab coat with a badge already pinned to the front.

  Handing over a clipboard, Jeanine showed Jill how they liked the paperwork to be filled out.

  “I already filled in most of it, and the rest you can get from the cards on the cages. Just put down routine spay or castration and note anything you think was out of the ordinary when something comes up. And don’t forget to initial. Ellen never does, and it makes Big Jake crazy. He wants to know who to ask if he can’t read the handwriting.”

  “You call him Big Jake?”

  “It fits.” She shrugged.

  “Yeah, I suppose it does,” Jill replied, laughing.

  Emma Murdoch rushed in about ten minutes until two. Jeanine introduced them and asked after her husband, Dave.

  “From what the doctors are saying he’ll never be able to do strenuous work again. They’re talking triple bypass. We are so glad you are here, Dr. Maitland.” Her eyes were red rimmed and a bit teary. “I hope you can stay for a least a while. Jake Gundersen does not deserve to lose this practice after all the work he has put in. I’m afraid Dave left it too long looking for replacements. Poor guy, this was his whole life other than me and the kids. He never expected to have to give it up so soon.”

  “I’m really sorry for what you are going through, Mrs. Murdoch. We’ll just have to take this one day at a time and see how well I get on.” No way am I going to rush commitment on this one.

  The bell rang as the first of the afternoon appointments arrived.

  Jill spent the next hour and a half giving vaccinations: first to several older dogs, then a Persian who wouldn’t stop purring so she could listen to his chest. Next came two rather hostile Siamese that Jill won over by taking her time and finding their favorite rubbing spots.

  “My, those two have never behaved so well for shots before,” the owner complimented.

  “Siamese don’t like to be rushed or pushed. I just gave them a little extra time to think about things,” Jill explained.

  “Thank you. I wasn’t sure about coming here after all the things I heard about this place, but now I’m glad I did. It’s so much closer than Waterloo, and I don’t like to drive in traffic anymore,” the elderly woman said as she stuffed the second cat back into his travel box.