Read Flying Changes for Free Online

way down the hall. Eva has left the door open, has tossed the receiver on top of Mutti’s bed. I pick it up and settle carefully on the edge of the eiderdown. Mutti believes in hospital corners and smooth covers, and I want to limit the repairs I’ll have to make later.
    “Hello?”
    “Hey, babe.” It’s Dan, his voice crackly above the static of a cell phone.
    “Dan! Where are you?”
    “Still in Canada.”
    The smile falls from my face. “Why? What’s going on?” I try not to let disappointment color my voice, but I had figured he’d be as far as Ohio by now.
    “Got hold of seven more horses and am waiting for the results of the Coggins tests, that’s all. Should be on my way in a day or two.”
    Dan is a veterinarian by trade, but his passion—his calling—is running Day Break, his horse rescue center.He’s been gone much of the winter, hauling truckloads of horses away from the hundreds of pee farms that are going defunct. Back in the heyday of hormone replacement therapy, it was the foals that needed saving. Now it’s all of them—mares, foals, and stallions—and Dan, and every other rescue operation we know, is scrambling to get them out before they end up either as dog food or on a meat counter in Asia.
    “Oh,” I say in a small voice. I feel guilty for my disappointment, but I’ve been counting the minutes until his return. I had been hoping to talk to him about the phone call—to ease my conscience, to hear him tell me I’m doing the right thing. Because of course I’m not sure of this at all.
    There’s an uncomfortable pause.
    “Sweetie,” he says, “are you okay?”
    “Yes, of course,” I say, dropping my forehead into one hand. I want to cry, and hope I can hide it in my voice. “I just miss you.”
    “I miss you, too. Is something else going on? You sound funny.”
    “It’s not important.”
    “It’s important if you’re upset.”
    “Eva’s mad at me. And I miss you. That’s all.”
    “Hang in there. I’ll be back in a couple of days, tops.”
    “Good.” I swallow over the lump in my throat and smile, beginning the mental adjustment.
    “Listen, there’s another reason I called. I need a favor.”
    “Oh?” I say. “What’s that?”
    “Is there any way you can spend the next couple of nights at my place?”
    “Sure. Why?”
    “Maisie’s set to foal anytime. Chester was staying with her, but all three of his kids came down with strep and his wife was threatening to leave if he didn’t come home. Can you take over until I get back?”
    “Um…sure,” I say, trying to keep the panic from my voice.
    “What’s the matter?”
    “Nothing,” I say.
    “You’ve been at a foaling before, right?”
    “Well, no. Not exactly.”
    “Oh.” There’s a pause. “Do you want me to try to find someone else?”
    “No, no! I’ll be fine.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “Positive,” I say, winding the phone cord so tightly around my fingers that the ends of them turn white. “Just tell me what to look for.”
    “Restlessness. Discomfort. Check her vulva for swelling or discharge.”
    “Okay,” I say, nodding vehemently. “Swelling and discharge. What else?”
    “Her udder may leak. Or get waxy.”
    “Leaking, waxy udder. Got it.” Continued bobbing of my head. “What else?”
    “That’s about it. When she goes into labor she may lie down and get up a lot. And seem uncomfortable. Pawing the ground and so on.”
    “Well, yes. I should think so.” I swallow hard. “And, um, if she starts? What then?”
    “Well, it’s fairly straightforward. You want to make sure that two hooves are presenting, followed by a nose. If that’s not the case, call the backup vet immediately.
    His name is Walter. I left his name and number in the foaling kit.”
    “All right.”
    “Chances are good it won’t happen until I get home, but she’s far enough along I need someone to check on her once an hour. Oh—and at night, you can use the foal-cam. I usually just sleep in front