The two brunettes stood in her examination room, freaking out a little as they attempted to wrangle the cats. Angela found a case to place the kitten in safely as she evaluated one of the adults, "What's going on?"
The taller one, the waitress from the cafe next door with a gold beret in her hair, exchanged glances with the other teenage before replying, "They got into mother's baking chocolate. Normally we keep them out of the kitchen and I was only gone for a second...but Asim was very determined today. He's the bad one," she frowned at the brown mau in her arms.
"He tends to influence the others," the other girl replied, juggling two lighter cats in her arms. Her accent was a different one, thicker, and one of the cats in her arms was attempting to swat at her long silky hair.
She evaluated each cat, examining them for signs of poisoning or lethargy. Fareeha, the girl from next door, waited outside with Satya in the waiting room. When Angela called for them, the girls came running,
"All of them are alright, but it seems Asim has some minor illness from the chocolate. I can prescribe something to help with the vomiting, but we will need to call your mother."
Fareeha looked slightly terrified, brown eyes widening, "Do we have to tell her?"
Satya frowned, "She's going to make us sanitize the whole cafe...including the outside."
Angela sighed, "I understand you're worried about punishment, but it's very important that you get this prescription for Asim. And I do need an adult to be involved."
Fareeha fished into her pocket, mumbling curses that she was a year away from adulthood. She called Ana Amari, speaking to her in worried Egyptian, before hanging up after a thorough scolding, "She said she'll get the prescription when she gets home from the store."
Angela nodded, writing off the prescription and handing it to Fareeha before grabbing some cardboard crates to safely transport the cats. As Fareeha was taking the cats next door one at a time, Satya looked around the clinic with curiosity.
"It is quite sparse in here."
Angela nodded, "I haven't been open very long. The time to make the clinic more homely hasn't been available for me."
"What animals do you treat?"
"Every kind. I learned all specialties so my clinic would turn nobody away."
Satya seemed to quiet for a second, "Even scorpions?"
Angela stared, "Scorpions?"
Satya flushed, turning away, "Never mind."
Fareeha was in the clinic then, and approached the flushed girl with a hand on her arm, "Don't be embarassed," she looked at Angela, "Satya's got pet scorpions. They're super cool and terrifying. They split their crickets in half with their little pincers. Brutal."
Angela smiled gently, "That's quite the pet. Do your scorpions need a vet?"
Satya and Fareeha seemed surprised at her suggestion. Satya blushed as she replied, "No, I was just wondering."
Fareeha gently elbowed Satya with a grin, "Her scorpions are fat and happy. Well...as happy as scorpions could be. Thanks, Dr. Ziegler, for helping our dumb ass cats. Mother is going to make me mow the lawn with scissors but at least Asim will be alright."
"Angela is fine. And please tell your mother she may come by if she has any questions."
Fareeha nodded, but Satya was quiet in thought, "Angela?"
"Hmm?" she turned from the computer to look at the Indian girl.
"There is a woman who lives in the penthouse of my apartment building that raises show tarantulas. I overheard her speaking to the desk clerk that she was struggling to find a more personal vet for them and that one of her favorites was having eating issues. She's some famous ballerina at the New York City Ballet, but she's been kind to me. Would it be alright if I told her about your clinic?"
Angela blinked, "I'm not sure she'd be interested in a small clinic like mine...but I wouldn't mind offering her help if she needs it."
"The only reason she's been turning down so many vets is because they're unwilling to go to her place to see them. She refuses to transport her tarantulas outside of doing so for shows."
"Arachnids become very stressed when moved from their homes so I could understand her worry. Well, I don't mind making house calls. It's not something I would do for a dog or cat, but a little thing like a tarantula seems worthy if not for the curiosity of seeing what a show tarantula looks like."
Satya grinned, "I'll give her your business card."
Angela wouldn't admit it to the girls, but when she googled and found Amelie Lacroix later, she was a tad bit intimidated. She wasn't just a famous ballerina, she was a world famous prima ballerina. She rarely smiled in photos, but every interview with her showed a heart of gold beneath the cold personality. She seemed humble. Angela hoped she was able to hold up to her standards.
This would be quite the client for her little clinic, but it was a goal to aim for at least.
-0-
A week and a half later, it was a rainy Sunday morning. The sky was gray, and the rumbling thunder encouraged Angela to brew a nice lemon tea. She sat on a soft fabric couch next to her budding garden, watering her flowers since they were protected under glass from the outside elements. All her clients for the day had rescheduled; dragging a pet to the vet was hard enough without rain.
Angela frowned, suddenly feeling incredibly lonely. Her apartment was cold and slightly humid from the weather, and she fought the urge to hug herself. For the first time in a long time, she yearned for a warm touch. Something to comfort her. She kept no pets of her own, knowing she wouldn't have the time. Perhaps she should get a fish tank. She peered behind her at a wall next to her desk, where a wide open space was. It was something to consider.
The other consideration was for another person's voice to fill the silence. She didn't have time to go out dating and the idea of any sort of online meetings was unappealing. Being someone who worked and studied most of her life at a constant rate left little time to learn how to be social and charming. Angela knew she was nice enough, but men and women rarely went for someone who was just nice.
She shook her head, grabbing for a novel from the side table. She didn't need to impress anyone. If they didn't like her how she was, she didn't want them. Still…
The clinic was closed, so she was surprised to hear a knock on her front door. She stood, blanket drifting off her onto the couch. When she came downstairs, she paused for a moment, seeing the silhouette of a man and a dog through the glass window.
She opened the door, smiling at Officer Reyes and Reaper, "Good morning, officers."
Reyes looked uncomfortable, "Er, it wasn't raining this hard when we left." He gestured to Reaper, who was soaked but seemed unbothered.
She grinned, "No problem, I'll fetch you some towels."
When she came back with two towels from upstairs, Reyes was standing in the middle of her clinic, Reaper's leash in his hand. Angela handed him one and draped Reaper in the other. As she pressed the towel into his thick fur, she peered to look at his side, "The skin looks good as new. He's healed well."
"He had a good doctor," Reyes replied quietly and Angela blushed. She scrubbed the dog down as Reyes removed his jacket and pressed the towel to his face and damp hair. Reaper whined happily when Angela scratched at his big ears.
When he was damp instead of soaking wet, Reyes reached into the jacket and pulled out a thick plastic clipboard, opening it to pull out some paperwork, "Thought you might want to get paid for your services, doc. Luckily, NYPD's got something of a worker's comp."
Angela stood as Reaper shook, trotting around to sniff now that he was free from his leash, "Oh, I wasn't worried about that. You chasing down a robber on my street is worth more than a simple patch up."
Reyes looked at her slightly bewildered, hazel eyes widened, "You weren't worried about getting paid?"
"No, not at all," Angela grinned and gathered the damp towels into a ball, "if it was possibly all my services would be free."
She sighed forlornly for a moment, then realized Reyes had gone quiet. She turned to him, catching him staring, and he cleared his throat, "Er, uh, well I'd rather you get paid anyways. It's coming out of insurance anyways."
She took the paperwork, smiling, "If you insist, Officer Reyes." She signed the paperwork, handing it back so he could place it in the clipboard.
"Just Reyes is fine. Or Gabe, that's my first name," he muttered unnecessarily. Angela wondered why he looked so flustered, when the night she'd patched him up he was completely distant from her.
"Gabriel's a beautiful name."
He smiled a little, looking uncomfortable, "Only my mama ever called me Gabriel."
"Speaking of," she placed a hand on her hip, "your daughter visited me."
"Er, yeah, she told me. Sorry about that. She's kind of a brat and too nosy for her own good."
"It's alright, really. I quite liked her."
"...you did?"
"Oh yes. She took me by surprise but she's a sweetheart. Quite lovely hair."
Reyes grimaced, "Yeah she did the whole undercut thing without asking. Melted my damn heart when she said she wanted to match mine. Couldn't stay mad at her for it, though I'd rather she not with all the makeup, but if she likes it it ain't hurting anybody."
Angela smiled, leaning on her arm against the counter, "You're a good father. I know it's typical for the mother to be a bigger influence on hair and makeup, but I can hardly blame her for wanting to match."
Reyes seemed to pick up on her compliment of his appearance, and he blushed, but his words were slightly cagey, "Yeah mom's not...in the picture. We just got each other."
Angela frowned, "I'm sorry to hear that."
"There's more to it, but only head doctors get to make me open up like that," he grinned slightly and Angela returned it.
Reaper nosed her side and she scratched at his ears, speaking to the big dog, "Have you been taking care of your father, sir?" The dog whined in excitement, wagging his tail at her baby talk.
Reyes watched them, a far-off look in his eyes. Angela stood and approached him, "Has your injury healed? Sombra said you were having trouble with the bandages."
"Sombra..." he grumbled under his breath before answering her, "Yeah, bandages came off a few days ago. Wounds look a little swollen but they've pretty much healed."
As much as she was tempted to ask him to look, she wasn't sure how seeing him shirtless again would affect her professional demeanor, "Make sure you go a people doctor for them. Just to check."
"I dunno, I kind of liked the whole two-for-one thing with Reaper. Don't need to make two trips."
She flushed and opened her mouth to speak when the door opened. The person in the doorway didn't knock and looked distinctly annoyed.
"Papa you said you would be ten minutes! I can't keep waiting forever, I need to know if Luis is going to tell Soraya that he loves Maria-" Sombra paused her unannounced strolling into the clinic, looking between her flustered father and the woman petting her dog, "Am I interrupting?"
"Mocoso," Reyes grumbled before looking at his daughter, "You couldn't wait ten more minutes?"
Sombra placed her hands on her hips, frowning, before a smirk graced her lips, "I don't make you wait when we watch Maria la del Barrio."
"What's that?" Angela asked.
Before Reyes could stop her, she replied, "Papa's favorite telenovela. He doesn't think Luis is going to tell Soraya because he's an emotional log, but I know Luis is going to figure out she was playing him all along-"
"Sombra," Reyes warned, frowning at her. They exchanged words in Spanish until Sombra pouted, calling for Reaper to come to her. The German shepherd trotted to her side and she put his leash on.
"Come on, already."
Angela grinned at the exchange, though she had no idea what was going on. She took his jacket in her hands and handed it to him, still smiling as he put it on, "Thank you for stopping by."
"Might make a habit of it...er, for Reaper."
"For Reaper, right," Sombra quipped from the doorway.
Reyes rubbed his forehead, "Alright, bye Dr. Ziegler."
As the father and daughter left her clinic, she called after them, "Call me Angela."
"Bye Angie," Sombra crooned, smirking up at her dad's glare.
Angela grinned, watching them disappear down the street. She poured a cup of lukewarm tea for herself and sat back on the couch in front of her garden, feeling warmer after the exchange.
-0-
Later, she tapped on her computer, sighing at the piling paperwork and appointments. The most common comment from her clients was that her clinic looked really sad and barren. They rarely saw her pretty furniture, the flower garden, or the photos on her second and third floor. The clinic itself looked so...sanitary. And she had no time for decorating with all the paperwork she had to do. She sighed...she needed a receptionist. Monitoring her budget, she found she was able to hire someone part time.
She placed some flyers around the bus stops and near the high school, waiting for someone to give her a call. She sighed, standing on the tiled floor in front of the window. Hopefully something would come of her hard work.
