Free The Frenchman's Slow Seduction by Flora Lanoux Page B

“Congratulations on getting through the first night,
Rachel.”

 
    Chapter 11
     
    It’s a struggle to get
up in the morning. I’m sorer than hell, and no matter how long I
stay in the shower I do not feel better. I start to wonder if the
class is worth it or if I’m up to it. Feeling as miserable as a
toothache, I take a couple of pain relievers. Looking at the
bruises on my arms and legs, I’m reminded of something my
grandmother once told me: “Nothing in life that’s worth doing is
easy, Rachel. Remember that.” Frowning and a bit hunched over, I
leave for work.
    It’s my turn for
morning surgery. Gigi, a terrier-shepherd cross, has swallowed
something that has wedged in her small intestine. Tim assists with
the surgery. The mysterious lump is easily found, and a cut to the
intestine reveals a small red ball, a tiny green soldier, and a toy
jack.
    “Is this a dog or a toy
chest?” Tim says, cracking his first joke since the KoKo
incident.
    The next operation is a
sex change operation for Arthur, a tom, who has had one too many
urinary tract infections. The scarring on his urethra has left us
no choice but to amputate his penis, leaving a female-like opening.
It’s not an uncommon procedure. Tim is fascinated.
    “There goes his love
life,” he says as I take a snip, which starts me laughing. “Don’t
laugh too hard,” Tim says. “He needs something left behind.” We
finish off the morning with a couple of neuters, to which Tim adds
comments like “Another one bites the dust,” and “There’s no getting
one past the goalie now, mate.” As we’re putting the last patient
in his cage, Tim becomes more serious.
    “Hey, Rach,” he says,
“got any ideas about who could be breaking into this joint?”
    “Not really,” I tell
him. “Sometimes I feel like I almost know but I’m afraid to find
out. Does that sound stupid?”
    “No, not stupid.
Something about it doesn’t sit right with me either.”
    On my way home at the
end of the day, I drop by Michelle’s place. She suggests going to
the university pub, which sounds perfect. Getting into her Peugeot,
I smile when I think of the day she chose the color. While we were
at the car dealership looking at color strips of paint, she pointed
to a brilliant red color and said, “That’s it. Bust my cherry
red.”
    At the pub, I fill her
in on what’s been happening at work, especially the break-in
part.
    “Shit, Rachel. What the
hell’s going on over there? You know, a lot of your problems
started when you began working at that clinic. I wish you were
working someplace else.”
    “I’m beginning to feel
the same way,” I tell her.
    Sitting back, she takes
a drink of wine. “So, Bryan’s helping you out. He’s such a sweetie.
You should have called me. You know I’d have come.”
    “I know, but I didn’t
want to call anyone.”
    “Rachel, you’ve got to
stop trying to do everything yourself. There’s no virtue in being
virtuous. People like to be needed, so let us in every once in a
while, okay?”
    As Michelle and I
drink, munch, and idly chat, I find myself thinking about life.
Looking across the table, I say, “Michelle, do you ever have
doubt?”
    “Of course. Is this
about Mike?”
    “No. It’s about me.
Sometimes I feel like I’m not like other people, that I don’t love
like other people. You and Bryan, you’re so free with your
emotions.”
    She puts down her
glass. “Want the trade secret? Don’t think, just feel. Trust the
little voice deep inside you. It’s all you’ve got.”
    “That’s just it. I
can’t hear that little voice.”
    “You will. And as far
as being able to love, you’re the most loving person I know.”
     
    On Thursday morning,
I’m the first to arrive at the clinic and feel uncomfortable being
there alone.
    When Mike gets in, he
finds me in the stockroom and puts his arms around me. If I could,
I would melt into the center of his being, become invisible,
disappear without a trace; if even