Page 37 of Keeping it Real (Milwaukee Mayhem #1)

A sound below had her peeking over the railing.

Alek was sprawled out, asleep on the carpet, his head on one of the couch cushions he’d moved to the floor.

Several of the throw blankets covered his body.

But it was who was beside him that had her heart stopping.

Hattie rested her head on Alek’s stomach while he had his hand planted on the dog’s shoulder.

Sheridan crept down the stairs. She needed to find her phone so she could grab a photo. Neither Aunt Eileen nor Peri would believe this. Before she could, however, Hattie made another one of those odd sounds.

“Hattie?” Sheridan called quietly.

The dog whimpered when she moved. Alek jerked awake at the sound.

“She okay?” he said.

“I don’t know.” She knelt beside them on the floor. “What happened?”

Hattie groaned when Sheridan tried to pet her. Her eyes were glassy, and her tongue lolled a bit.

Alek scratched his chin. “She was really restless when I came down to check on her. Kept asking to go out. Every time I put her in the yard, though, she just went in circles. She never did anything else. I think she’s probably missing Finn.

I tried to get her to go upstairs and sleep on his bed, but she wasn’t having it.

She seemed to calm down if I was beside her.

I figured I’d sleep down here with her so you could get some rest.”

Sheridan kissed him. “You are . . . amazing, do you know that?”

He grimaced. “That’s not what my back is saying to me right now. I’m going to need to be worked over by a massage therapist this afternoon.”

She kissed him again. “Is that what they’re calling it these days? Come on, Hattie, girl. Let’s go have breakfast. That always makes you feel better.” When she arrived in the mud room, she was surprised to see that the dog’s dish was full.

“Did you already feed her?” she asked Alek when she returned to the family room.

Alek was folding up the blankets and reassembling the couch cushions. “No. I don’t think she touched her food from last night.”

A lick of unease hit her. Hattie never left food unfinished. She looked around for the dog.

“Where’d she go?”

The words had no sooner left her mouth when they heard Hattie throwing up.

“No, no, no !” Alek shouted, sprinting toward the laundry room. “Not in my equipment bag, Hattie!”

The dog ignored him, continuing to spew all over Alek’s practice clothes. Hattie gave them a doleful look before dropping down in a pile of laundry. Her breathing was strained.

Sheridan’s own breath was coming up short. “We need to take her to the vet, Alek. Right now.”

“Yeah.” He was already texting someone.

An hour later, Alek paced the small waiting room of the emergency vet that his friend, Luke Kessler from the Growlers, had recommended.

Sheridan sat on the wooden bench focusing on the light snow swirling around outside the window overlooking the parking lot.

She and Alek had debated whether to alert Finn, before deciding against it.

“Let’s wait until we know something before we alarm him,” Alek had advised. “It’s probably something minor anyway.”

The anxious way Alek moved about the room told her he didn’t think the situation was minor any more than she did.

The door to the back opened, and the vet who’d taken Hattie back emerged.

The vet was ridiculously tall—taller than Alek—and thin with curly gray hair and wire-rimmed glasses he kept having to adjust. With his mouthful of giant teeth, he gave off more cartoon character vibes than skilled surgeon.

But Luke Kessler assured them he was the best.

“First, the good news,” he said. “We’re not dealing with any poison or parasite.”

His announcement didn’t exactly calm Sheridan.

“But there’s bad news?” she said.

The vet motioned for them to join him at the counter, where he opened a file on his tablet. “I take it our girl enjoys snacking on her family’s socks and whatnot?” he asked.

Alek groaned. “Mostly the whatnot. My whatnot, to be specific.”

The vet chuckled as he brought up a detailed image of Hattie’s belly. “She’s got something jamming up the plumbing. Looks like it might be a sock. Whatever it is, it’s knotted itself around her intestine.”

“That’s not coming out the normal way.” Alek said.

“Nope.”

Sheridan’s mouth went dry. “That means you have to operate?”

Alek placed his hand on her back. “When?”

The vet checked his wrist. “We’re prepping the OR right now. Once the second bag of IV fluids is done, we’ll take her back. The procedure should take about two hours, depending on how tightly the object is wrapped around things. Would you like to see her first?”

“Yes! Please.” Sheridan was surprised when Alek followed her back. Then again, the man had slept beside the dog on the floor all night. She was beginning to think he had a soft spot for dogs after all.

Hattie lay on her side on a movable table. Her front leg had been shaved to allow the lines to be inserted. She looked so still and lifeless that Sheridan had to bite back a gasp.

“She’s sedated,” the vet explained. “No need to worry. We do this surgery at least once a week.” He shrugged. “Dogs can’t seem to help swallowing things they shouldn’t. Hattie will be back to herself in a few weeks.”

“I need your word on that,” Alek demanded.

“There are no guarantees. This is major surgery,” the vet replied. “Any number of things could still go wrong.”

“Make sure they don’t.”

The fierce way Alek uttered the words caught both the vet and Sheridan off guard.

Still, the vet was patient with him. “I understand your concern, Mr. Bergeron. Our pets are like family. We’ll take good care of her. Especially since this one is a minor celebrity. We need her to give us a good Yelp score.”

His attempt at trying to lighten the mood fell flat.

“No!” Alek roared. “‘This one’ belongs to an eight-year-old boy who lost both his parents in a car accident a few months ago. He can’t lose Hattie, too. That’s not a scenario I’m willing to live with. You hear me?”

The vet blinked, seemingly at a loss for words.

“Yeah,” he said eventually. “I do hear you.” He placed his hand on Alek’s shoulder.

“I will do everything in my power to make sure Hattie pulls through without any complications.” He grazed his fingers over the dog’s fur.

“You’re welcome to stay with her until we take her back. ”

Sheridan slipped her arm through Alek’s and leaned her head on his shoulder when the vet left the room. “We need to tell Finn.”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

She pulled out her phone and dialed Claire’s number. When she looked up, Alek was leaning over the dog, dropping a kiss on her head.