Wentworth about more training. She’d been too busy. The phone had rung off the hook and every four-legged client seemed especially rowdy. Maybe a blizzard was headed our way. The waiting room was finally empty. In the lull, I’d mopped the tile floor to clean up any hair and tinkles I might have missed and ran through my afternoon prep to close. I could hear Dr. Wentworth humming as she cleaned up. She rotated assistants each day, and Callie had asked to leave early for a New Year’s Eve party, which was fine by me. Fewer witnesses, fewer interruptions. But even in the quieter final hours of the day, I had a hard time finding my tongue. I wasn’t scared of Dr. Wentworth. I’d rehearsed what I wanted to say last night. But the words didn’t want to come out of my mouth today. I guess I had a problem asking for things. I hadn’t gotten this job on my own in the first place. Oh, I’d applied on my own, sure, but for all I knew, Mom had made a call to her friend to ensure her basket case daughter...
