BJ yawned, stretched, and listened to her stomach rumble. Damn! She looked longingly at the Cove’s entrance. She stopped a passer-by and asked the man if there was anywhere else to eat in town.

“Anywhere else?”

“Yeah, besides Rebecca’s Cove,” she said. The conversation didn’t hold a lot of promise.

“The Cove’s open,” he said in confusion.

“I know, but...it’s a long story. I just want to find out if there’s anywhere else to eat in town.”

“Why would ya want to eat somewhere else when the Cove’s right there?”

BJ sighed and seriously thought about asking the man if he was Rod Serling, but she figured the sarcasm would be lost on him. “Right you are,” she said loudly. “What could I have been thinking? The Cove it is.”

Walking into Rebecca’s Cove for the second time that day was an entirely different experience. No one seemed to notice her, except for the man who held the door open for her. “Whaddaya say, Coach?”

“Middle linebacker.” Walter Cassidy pointed a finger at her. “Right again.”

Once inside, BJ saw that nearly every person in Ana Lia came to the Cove for lunch. Two additional waitresses scurried around the tables and booths, while JoJo minded the counter. The sounds of noisy conversation and dishes banging together filled the air.

She scanned the restaurant for an empty seat, but there was none available. A narrow booth opened up, but she knew she could never get her casted leg inside the tiny space. She was about to turn around and leave when she spied an empty seat at the counter. She was halfway across the restaurant when she realized who the empty seat was next to. This is the story of my life.

Hobie turned to smile at whoever sat beside her. The smile froze on her face. She arched one eyebrow.

“Look, I don’t like this any more than you,” BJ said. “I’m only sitting here because it’s the only seat available.”

Hobie shrugged and turned away. “It really doesn’t matter.” “I’d sit somewhere else if I could.”

“S’okay.”

“It’s just that with this cast, well, the booths are kinda out, and—”

“Look, I really don’t care!”

“Okay, okay. Touchy. What’s good to eat here for lunch?” BJ asked, looking around at the surrounding patrons’ plates.

“Duck’s breath burgers.”

“Well, if you’re not going to even be serious—”

Hobie grabbed the menu from BJ’s hand and pointed to the sandwich section.

“Oh...duck’s breath burgers. Okay, now what’s good to eat that wasn’t quacking around in the backyard yesterday? Okay, okay...don’t give me that look. What the heck is it, anyway?”

At that moment, JoJo set a plate on the counter in front of Hobie. It contained a massive hamburger and a generous helping of thick-cut French fries.

“It looks good, but why the name?”

Hobie lifted the plate and held it under BJ’s nose.

“Whoa, mama!” BJ declared at the overpowering odor of garlic. “I hope your patients don’t mind.”

“I’m a vet. I see animals all day. They probably just think I’m one of them.”

Hobie went back to ignoring BJ, and BJ continued to peruse the menu. The distinctive strains of conversation lifted above all the other background noises and BJ looked above the register to see a television mounted on the wall. Her eyebrows came together after she had listened for a few moments.

“Is everyone watching that TV?” she asked Hobie. “Yes.”

“Are you watching it?” “I’m trying.”

“Very funny. What’s this show called?” “El Darkside del Amor.”

“The Dark Side of Love?” BJ smiled. “Is that what it means?”

“Yes. Is everyone watching this particular show?” “Pretty much everyone.”

“Every day?” “For years now.” “And you?”

“Since I moved back to Ana Lia,” Hobie said. “It’s kind of a tradition.”

“You do know it’s a Spanish soap opera? That they’re not speaking in English?”

“Of course I do!”

BJ paused but couldn’t let it go. “Hobie, do you speak Spanish?”

“No.”

BJ waited a few heartbeats before asking her next inevitable question. She wasn’t exactly sure she wanted to hear the answer, however. “Does anyone here speak Spanish?”

“Mmm, not that I can think of.”

JoJo stepped up to take BJ’s order. “What’ll it be, Ms. Warren?” she asked, followed by a bright smile.

“A healthy dose of sanity, please. Oh, what the hell, a duck’s breath burger, heavy on the garlic.”

“Good morning, Dr. Allen. Good morning, Miss Grant.” Hobie and Laura mentally groaned. Lisa Carini was a

precocious ten-year-old who yearned to be a veterinarian. She had a small menagerie at home, and whenever she brought one of her pets into the office, it turned into an all-day question-and-answer session. She was intelligent and knowledgeable but the most infuriating child around. Inside her Red Ryder wagon was Percival, her five-foot green tree python. Mostly green with a bluish-white stripe down his back, he lay there, unmoving, a large lump in his middle.

“What have we here?” Hobie turned on her doctor’s voice. “What we have here is Percival. Your memory isn’t too good, is it?”

“Lisa!” Mrs. Carini reprimanded her daughter.

Hobie took a deep breath and began again. She couldn’t find much fault with Lisa. She had been the same way as a child.

“Okay, why don’t you tell me why Percival is here?” Hobie said.

“He won’t move. I don’t understand it. I had him in the backyard yesterday and I went to clean the pool. He was wrapped around his tree when I left, but when I came back, he was like this. I read that males can become lethargic at certain times of the year.”

Laura and Hobie looked at each other and braced themselves for one of Lisa’s zoological tirades.

“However, since I’m not breeding Percival, I don’t understand it.” Lisa scratched her elbow and continued. “I understand that if a snake sits all day, he can grow obese and constipated, which is why we are here today, Doctor.”

Hobie did a cursory examination of the reptile. She poked and prodded him, tickling his belly with the tip of a blunt hook until he loosened up and removed his head from inside his coils. She easily saw the problem, but Lisa and her family had probably never seen him in this shape because they fed him nothing larger than small rats.

“The good news is that there’s nothing wrong with him that another few days won’t cure,” Hobie said.

“I don’t think he’s constipated. I track all the dates of his stool defecation for his feeding schedule,” Lisa said in a self-important manner.

Just wait until she grows up. She’s going to be fun at parties, Hobie thought. “Lisa, I think the reason Percival is acting lazy is that he’s eaten a bigger meal than usual.”

“But I haven’t given him anything different,” Lisa countered.

“I’m not sure how to say this, but are you missing any of your rabbits, the big ones?”

“No, not one. I would have noticed,” Mrs. Carini said. “Besides, they aren’t in the backyard where Percival was yesterday. They have hutches outside the gate.”

All at once, Hobie had a horrible feeling. She realized exactly what Percival had eaten. The lump was about the right size. She didn’t have the heart to tell the girl or her mother.

“It looks as if he got a hold of a small animal. I wouldn’t worry too much about it. He should digest in within the next three to five days. In the meantime, keep him out of the sunlight and let him rest. He should do all the work just fine by himself. Worst-case scenario would be that we have to bring him in and soak him in warm water if he becomes constipated or that because of the larger-than-normal meal, he might suffer a rectal prolapse.”

“I understand, Doctor,” Lisa said. “We’ll follow your instruction precisely.”

“Lisa, Mrs. Carini, can I be frank?”

“Of course, Hobie Lynn,” Mrs. Carini said.

“Percival has become a bit bigger than most males of his species. I know you consider him a pet, but it may be time to think about giving him to someone who has the room for a snake his size.”

“He’s like one of the family.” Lisa looked upset.

“I know, sweetheart, but I would expect you of all people to understand that what really counts is what’s best for the animal.”

Lisa furrowed her brow and seemed to be thinking about what a real veterinarian would do.

“I guess you’re right,” she said. “But how do I find someone good to give him to?”

“Tell you what. I have a friend I went to school with that works at Busch Gardens in Tampa. I bet he would be able to find a great spot for Percival. Would you like me to ask him?”

“Busch Gardens, oh, yes. That would be a perfect spot for Percival. It would be like a real jungle for him.”

“Very good. I’ll contact him on Monday.”

Mrs. Carini thanked Hobie and Laura and followed her daughter out of the office.

“If that was my kid...” Laura let her thought trail off as she shook her head.

Hobie laughed, then grew serious. “What’s worse is I think I know what Percival ate.”

“What?” Laura asked.

“Remember when Mrs. Emberly was in here looking for Petey?”

“Yeah.”

“The Carinis live right behind Mrs. Emberly.” Hobie stared at her friend, waiting for her to catch on.

“Oh,” Laura responded distractedly. “Oh!” she exclaimed as realization dawned. “Oh, man. You don’t mean…”

“Yep. I’m afraid poor Petey played his part in the circle of life.”

BJ unlocked the front door to her grandmother’s house and stepped inside the cool interior. She sat on the familiar couch that had become her resting place and bed. The remote control for the television sat in plain view on the coffee table and BJ scooped it up. She flipped through the channels, but it didn’t take her long to realize that Evelyn didn’t have cable or a satellite dish. She passed by three major networks, one of which was barely visible through the snow, a local channel, and a public television station.