Seaglass Summer Read Free Page B

I’d grown to love the island. So, I stayed.” He sighs. “Nothing ever remains the same.”
    “I’m sorry she left you, Uncle.”
    “Time heals all wounds, nah? Nisqually Island is a soothing place. I’ve come to know myself here. I’ve learned to love the birdsong, the sound of the sea, the cedar trees.” He glances at his watch. “Oh no. I was supposed to leave five minutes ago! I lost track of time.”
    “Are you going like that?” His hair still sticks out on one side and is plastered down on the other.
    “Like what?” Uncle Sanjay spreads chutney on another piece of toast.
    “Do you have a comb? And your buttons are done up wrong.”
    He glances down at his white shirt. “So they are.”
    I do up the buttons the right way. “Do you have an iron for the wrinkles in your shirt?”
    “I might have had one many moons ago.”
    “We’ll have to do the best we can without one.” I get up, and in a minute I’m back with my brush, comb, and hand mirror from my purse. I make him hold the mirror while I work. My job is harder with Stu’s drooling tongue in the way.
    When I finish, Uncle Sanjay holds the mirror up at all angles. “My dear niece, I’m handsome!”
    “You look perfect.” I’m smiling.
    “The ladies will come running from all over the islands, nah? You’re good at combing my hair.”
    “I’m good at braiding hair, too. But yours is too short for braids. Plus you’re a man.”
    “You could be very helpful at the clinic with such skills.”
    A warm tingle spreads through me. “We’d better go. We’re already late.”

Chapter Five
LULU
    T he moment I grab Stu’s leash off the wall, he tears back and forth to the front door, claws scrabbling on the hardwood floor. He slips and slides, bumps into the wall, then dashes back, knocking over a plant.
    His excitement rubs off on me. I run out the front door, and he yanks me into the cool morning. Uncle Sanjay, carrying a black briefcase, is close behind in his squeaky shoes.
    The night left a sliver of moon in the sky, fading asthe sun rises. In the distance, the ocean twinkles through the trees. Stu squats in the dewy grass, then pees against mailboxes all the way into town. We pass wooden cottages and bright gardens and people out speed walking. Everyone waves, and Uncle Sanjay waves back. His combed hair blows in the breeze, but he still looks handsome.
    I trot to keep up with his long strides. “Um, I wonder, could I order another veterinarian kit? My dad gave me some emergency money. I’ll also need a white lab coat and vinyl gloves.”
    Uncle Sanjay grins. “For now, you can borrow a lab coat, and perhaps sometime soon, I’ll show you how to use a stethoscope.”
    “Really? Yay!” I’m skipping along now.
    “Working with animals is not only about having equipment. You have to practice, learn, and trust your instincts.”
    “But you need a stethoscope, don’t you? I mean, to listen to a dog’s heartbeat, right?”
    “Indeed—but the stethoscope is only a tool. You must use your mind, your heart, your steady hands.”
    “I have steady hands.” I hold them up, fingers spread. “They look like yours.”
    “Yours are much smaller and prettier, and far less hairy.” Uncle Sanjay chuckles. “Stu, no!”
    Stu is burying his nose in a tipped-over trash can, chomping away on garbage as if the soggy wrappers are a gourmet supper. Uncle Sanjay grabs the leash and drags Stu away from his feast.
    Stu instantly forgets the garbage. Now he’s sniffing a scent trail in the grass, all the way to Nuthatch Street, a shady lane off Witless Cove Road. At the end of the lane sits Uncle Sanjay’s clinic like a gingerbread house in a forest. A bright sign out front reads:
FURRY FRIENDS ANIMAL CLINIC A HEALING PLACE FOR PETS
    Under the sign, a bed of white daisies bloom, surrounded by a ring of small smoothed chunks of frosted glass in a rainbow of colors. I pick up a red piece and hold it up to the light.
    “Seaglass,” I say.
    “From