Love Catastrophe

NewYorkTimesandUSATodaybestsellingauthorHelenaHuntinglivesoutsideofTorontowithheramazingfamilyandhertwoawesomecats,whothinkthebestplacetosleepisherkeyboard.Shewritesallthingsromance—contemporary,romanticcomedy,sports,andangstynewadult.Helenalovestobakecupcakes,hasbeenknowntolistentoasongonrepeat1,512timeswhilewritingabook,andifshehastobeawayfromherfamily,shepreferstobeinwarmweatherwithherfriends.ALSOBYHELENAHUNTING
TheGoodLuckCharm
MeetCute
KissMyCupcakePIATKUS
FirstpublishedintheUSin2023byForever,animprintofGrandCentralPublishing,adivisionofHachetteBookGroup,Inc
FirstpublishedinGreatBritainin2023byPiatkus
Copyright?2023byHelenaHunting
Themoralrightoftheauthorhasbeenasserted.
Allcharactersandeventsinthispublication,otherthanthoseclearlyinthepublicdomain,arefictitiousandanyresemblancetorealpersons,livingordead,ispurelycoincidental.
Allrightsreserved.
Nopartofthispublicationmaybereproduced,storedinaretrievalsystem,ortransmittedinanyformorbyanymeans,withoutthepriorpermissioninwritingofthepublisher,norbeotherwisecirculatedinanyformofbindingorcoverotherthanthatinwhichitispublishedandwithoutasimilarconditionincludingthisconditionbeingimposedonthesubsequentpurchaser.
ACIPcataloguerecordforthisbookisavailablefromtheBritishLibrary.
ISBN978-0-349-43881-8
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www.littlebrown.co.ukContents
ChapterOne:TheKittyWhisperer
ChapterTwo:RoyallyHissed
ChapterThree:Don’tAttacktheKittyWhisperer
ChapterFour:TheRoutinesWeLove
ChapterFive:KittyMagic
ChapterSix:ALittleBitFascinated
ChapterSeven:ThatEscalatedQuickly
ChapterEight:IKindofLikeYou
ChapterNine:AlltheEmbarrassingMoments
ChapterTen:ALittleHaunted?
ChapterEleven:ThePiecesofWhoWeare
ChapterTwelve:ComfortinConnection
ChapterThirteen:SuchaBoob
ChapterFourteen:TheUnstuck
ChapterFifteen:Well,ThatWasUnexpected
ChapterSixteen:LittlePieces
ChapterSeventeen:KittyComfort
ChapterEighteen:SexyTimes
ChapterNineteen:OnePawataTime
ChapterTwenty:RightMeow
ChapterTwenty-One:LittleSteps
ChapterTwenty-Two:Cat-TasticParty
ChapterTwenty-Three:Paws-ItivelyPurrfect
ChapterTwenty-Four:AnAbsoluteCat-Astrophe
ChapterTwenty-Five:TheCat’SOutoftheBag
ChapterTwenty-Six:PurrfectlyPawsitivePeople
ChapterTwenty-Seven:MovingForward
ChapterTwenty-Eight:HarttoHart
ChapterTwenty-Nine:PawsitiveChanges
Epilogue:HoldtheA-Claws
AcknowledgmentsForkidlet.YouinspiremeeverydaywithyourwonderfulcreativebrainandyourendlessempathychapteroneTHEKITTYWHISPERERMiles
Ican’tbelievethisisreal.”IstareinmilddisbeliefatthetoptrendingadvertisementonmycomputerscreenforseveralsecondsbeforeImovemycursortohoveroverthewebsitename.I’mafraidthatwhat’sbeingadvertisedandwhatwillpopupwhenIclickthelinkaretwoverydifferentthings.Isqueezeoneeyeshutandnarrowtheother,alreadyexpectingtheworst.
Aknockonmyofficedoorhasmeaccidentallyclickingthelinkinsteadofclosingthewindow.
“TheKittyWhisperer?”Thankfullyit’snotmyboss.It’smybestfriendandcolleague,JoshHalpern.
Ispinaround,eyeswide.“Wannasaythatalittlelouder?Idon’tthinkTomattheendofthehallheardyou.”
Hestepsintomyofficeandclosesthedoor,oneeyebrowraisedashesurveysthespace.
It’sasmalloffice,butithasawindow.Theviewisofthesideofthebuildingnextdoor,butitopens,sothat’snice.Andit’sbetterthanmylastjob,whereIworkedinwhatweaffectionatelycalledthedungeon.ThreeotherguysandIhadcubiclesinthebasement.Itwasnexttothelaundryroom,andnoisy,andsometimesitsmelledabitfunky,unlessthelaundrywasonthedryercycle.Thenitwashot,butatleastitsmelledlikedryersheets.
“Uh,dude,unlessyou’reactivelylookingtogetyourassfiredduringyourfirstmonth,youprobablyshouldn’tbecheckingthosesitesatwork.”
“It’sacat-sittingservice,notoneofthosesites.Andtobeclear,Iwouldnotwillfullyusethecompanyserverforthatkindofbrowsing.”
JoshisthereasonIhavethisjob,andIdon’twanttodoanythingtomakehimlookbad.OrgetmyselffiredbeforeIevenhaveachancetoproveI’manassettotheteam.We’reheadingintotheregularNHLseason,andmyroleasadataanalystistorunplayerstatsandhelpinformmanagementwhentouseplayerstomaximizeperformance.
“Youjustgottabecareful,man,”hewarns.“You’renew,andanynon-work-relatedbrowsingshouldbelimitedtononworkhours.Managementisprettystrictaboutthat.”
Imotiontowardthecupoframennoodlesinfrontofme.“It’smylunchbreak,soIfigureditwouldbeokay.”
“Oh.Well,youdon’thavetoeatlunchatyourdesk.”
“Iknow.Ijustneededtogetthissituationmanaged,soIwaskillingtwobirdswithonestone.”
“Whatsituationisthat?”Hestepsupbesidemeandleansinclosertogetabetterlookatmyscreen,hisfacescrunchinginconfusion.“Isthisforreal?”
“Itcertainlyseemsthatway,yes.”Thewebsitehasanoverwhelmingnumberofcatvideos.Andthere’sameowingsoundtrackinthebackgroundthattakesalloffivesecondstobecomegrating.Iturndownthevolume.
“Whyareyouonthissite?”Heraisesahandinfrontofhisfaceasaspacecatgifcycleseveryfiveseconds.It’salot.“Dude,canyoudosomething,likeclicktoanotherscreen?I’mgettingaheadachefromalltheflashing.”
Iclickononeofthesocialmediaicons,navigatingawayfromthewebsite.
“KittyHart?Ahundredthousandfollowers?Thatcan’tbeherrealname,”Joshmutters.“Itmustbeagimmick.”Hestealsthemousefrommeandclicksontheindividualimages,apparentlynolongerconcernedabouttheinappropriateuseofmyworkcomputer.It’sunderstandable,sincethisisanalluringalbeitstrangerabbitholetofallinto.Thefirstpictureisacloseupof“Kitty”holdinga…surprise,surprise…kitty.Atinyonewithasmooshed-inface.
Kitty—thehuman—smileswidelyatthecamera,apparentlyunconcernedabouttheawkwardangleoftheselfie,sowe’reessentiallylookingrightintotheblackholesofhernostrils.Regardless,theimagehasseventhousandlikesandnearlyfourhundredcomments,mostofwhicharepositivewithlotsofhearteyesandpeopletellinghertheyloveher.
“Whyareyoucreepingonthiswoman?”
“I’mnotcreeping.Ineedtofindacatsitter.”
“Butyouhaveadog,”heremindsme,asifI’munawarethatmyfour-leggedfriendisn’tthepsychopathicvariety.
“It’smymom’s.She’sinthehospital,andwe’reheadingtoMontrealtomorrownight,soIneedtofindsomeonetolookafterthelittlegremlinwhilewe’regone.”MymotherhasbeenrelentlesslyaskingthehospitalstaffaboutPrinceFrancisandmessagesmealmosthourlyforupdates.
“She’sstillthere?”Joshdropsdownintothechairacrossfromme.“Ithoughtshe’dbeoutbynowandthattheywerejustcheckingherover.Iseverythingokay?”
JoshandIhavebeenfriendssincemiddleschool,andhe’sveryawareofmyfamilyhistory.“Ifiguredshe’dbeoutinacoupleofdays,butthedoctorsarerunningsometestsandthinkthere’smoregoingonandthatshewasn’tsleepwalkingorwhatever.”Irubmytemple,feelingthepressurethere.Threedaysago,thepolicepickedupmymomaftershewasfoundwanderingaroundinherpajamasandapairofslippersinthemiddleofthenight.Whenshecouldn’ttellthemwhereshelived,theybroughthertothehospital,thinkingmaybeshe’dbeenonsomekindofdrugorsomething.
“Whydidn’tyoutellmethisuntilnow?CanIdoanythingtohelp?”
Inormallyseemymomonbirthdaysandmajorholidays.AnyothertimeIevertriedtostopbyforavisit,shewouldcancel,orforget,orrescheduleandforgetagain.
Imessageherregularlyandcall,butshehasahabitofmakingmefeellikecrapfornotcallingmore.Doesn’tmatterifit’sweeklyormonthlyoreveryotherday;shewouldmakeitseemlikeIhadn’treachedoutinaneternity.Overthepastyear,mytextmessagesandcallswouldoftengounansweredfordays,orsometimeslonger.ButnowI’mstartingtoseethatmaybeitwasn’therbeingpassive-aggressive.
Andsinceshe’sbeeninthehospital,I’mfieldingcountlessmessagesandseveralcallsadayfromher.“Italkedtoadoctoracoupleofhoursago.Theywanttokeepherformoretests.I’mstillgettingmyheadaroundit.”
Inadditiontothestressofmymother’shospitalstay,wehadateammeetingthismorningwherethegeneralmanagerannouncedthatIwouldbetravelingwiththemtosomeofthegames.Whichisgreat,becauseitmeansI’llhavemoreopportunitiestoprovethevalueofmyrole.Butit’sunexpected,anaddedlayerofcomplication,sinceitmeansIcan’tbeheretodealwithmymother,andIneedadogsitter.Theowneroftheteamisold-schoolandisonthefenceabouthavingmeonboard.Joshistheonewhopushedforthemtogivemeachance,soIwanttomakesureIdon’tlethimdown,ortheteam.
It’salot.Ican’taffordtotaketimeofftodealwithmymom,notatthispointintheseason,anyway.
“Right.Yeah.Doesyourmomhaveanyfriendsyoucanasktohelpwiththecat?”Hetapsonthearmofthechair.
Iflipapenbetweenmyfingers.“Thereareacoupleofneighbors,buttheonlyonewhomightbecapableofhelpingisonsomesix-weekcruise,sothat’sout.AndI’msureashellnotbringingthethingbacktomyplace.”Icanonlyimaginethestressitwouldcausemydog,Wilfred.He’saDane,butheseemstothinkhe’sateacuppoodlewiththewayhe’salwaystryingtositinmylap.Plus,basedonhowmuchmymother’scatdoesn’tlikepeople,Idon’tthinkI’mgoingoutonalimbinassuminghe’snotgreatwithotheranimals.
“Yeah,Idon’tknowhowWilfredwouldreacttoacat.Theycanbeterritorial.Soasitteritis,then.”Joshglancesatthecomputerscreenagain.
“Apparentlythiswomanistopratedonallthewebsitesintheareaasthebestkittywhispereroutthere.”Whateverthehellakittywhispereris.
“Saythatagain.”
“Saywhatagain?”
Hetipshischinupandsmirks.“Youknowwhat.”
Irollmyeyesbutsmile.IcandealwithstupidjokesalotbetterthanIcandealwithwhat’sgoingonwithmymotherandhercatsituation.
“Shehastoknowhowthatsounds.Imean,howcanshenot?”Joshsays.
“Well,I’mabouttocallhertofindoutifshe’slegit.”Ipickupmycellandunlockthescreen.
Joshrollshischaircloser,pushingmeoveracoupleoffeetsohecanscrollherfeedwhileIdialhernumber,setmyphonetospeaker,andlistentoitring.
Shepicksuponthesecondone.“KittyHart,theKittyWhisperer.Pleasehold!”Hervoicesomehowmanagestobesultryandupbeatatthesametime.
“Ijust—”
“Youarethehandsomestmanintheuniverse!Areyougoingtoshowmeyourbelly?Ohyes,youare!”
Shesoundslikesheshouldbeajazzloungesingerwiththeslightraspandthesomewhatsingsongytonesheuses.IlookatJosh,buthervoicedoesn’tseemtoaffecthiminthesameway,consideringhe’ssilentlylaughingsohardhe’sabouttofalloffhischair,soIfocusmyattentionelsewhere.
“Who’smyfavoriteboy?Doyouwantatreat?”Somethingjinglesontheotherendoftheline.
“Uh,miss?”Ihavenoideawhat’shappeningrightnow.
“Justonesecond,please!”shecallsout.“Youneedtoaskforitnicely.”
Ican’tdecideifshe’sintentionallytryingtosoundseductiveorwhat.Amuffledmeowfollowsandthesoundsofadigitalvoice,butIcan’tmakeoutwhatit’ssaying.
Thewoman’svoicedropsacoupleofoctaves.“Suchagoodboy.Oh!Listentothatmotorrun!”
Joshmakesacutmotionacrosshisthroatandreachesformyphone.
“Okay!Sorryaboutthat!Iwasinthemiddleofatrainingsession.HowcanIhelpyou?”
Iswathishandawayandaccidentallyknockmyphoneoffthedeskintheprocess.
“Hello?”shecallsfromundermydesk.
“Fuck,”ImutterasItrytoreachit.
“Ifyou’rejustgoingtoswearatmeandbreatheintothephone,I’mhanginguponyou.”
“Iwonderhowoftenthathappens,”Joshmutters.
Ipunchhiminthebackofthecalfandmanagetonabmyphone.JustbecauseIthoughtthesamethingdoesn’tmeanIcanaffordtolosethispotentialcontact.“No!Pleasedon’thangup!”Itrytobackoutfromundermydeskandsmackmyheadonthekeyboardtray.“Ow!Shit.Sorry.Idroppedmyphoneandnowit’scoveredindustbunniesandIbashedmyheadontheedgeofmydesktryingtoreachit.Don’thangup,please.”
“Ohno!Areyouokay?”Shesoundsgenuinelyconcerned.
“I’mfine.”Imanagetogetmyselfoutfromunderthedesk,nothankstoJosh,who’sbusymassagingthebackofhislegwhilealsogrinning.
“That’sgood.Dustbunniesaren’tnearlyascuteastherealthing,arethey,sweetlittleMisery?Andwouldn’tyoujustlovetochaseone?Yes,youwould!Butyou’reanindoorkitty,aren’tyou?”Shecoossomemoreandthenmakesasoundthatcouldbeasneeze,butIcan’tbesure.“HowcanIhelpyou,Mister…”Ittakesmeamomenttorealizeshe’snottalkingtothecatanymore,buttome.
“Isthatcat’snameMisery?”
“Itis,andhisbrother’snameisCompany.MiserylovesCompany.Andit’sverytrue.MiserylovestohumppoorCompanyanychancehegets.Don’tyou,youfriskyboy?”It’sfollowedbymorecooingandJoshcough-laughingintohissleeve.
Isilentlythreatenhimwithviolence,andhemanagestogethimselfundercontrolagain.Notthatmythreathasanyrealimpact.Joshisbuiltlikeafreighttrain,andI’mbuiltmorelike…amoremuscularupgradedversionofGumby.
“Hello?Areyoustillthere?”
“Yeah.Yup.Stillhere.”
“Idon’tthinkIgotyourname.”Thereshegoesagainwiththesultrytone.
“Miles.”Iclearmythroat.“MilesThorn.”
“Hi,MilesThorn.I’mKittyHart,theKittyWhisperer.I’mheretohelpwithallyourfelineneedsandquestions.WhatcanIdoforyoutoday?”
Thereisnowayahumanbeingcanbethisupbeat.IglanceatthecomputerscreenwhereKittyHartsmilesbackatmewhiledressedinaleopard-printcardigan,matchingglasses,andashirtthatreadsI’MACATPERSON.Ormaybeitispossible.
“Iuh,Ineedsomeonetowatchmymother’scatwhileI’maway.”
“Wouldyourequiretheovernightservice,orjustthedailydrop-in,feeding,andkittylovepackage?”
Joshmakesalewdgesture,andIspinaroundinmychairsoIcan’tseehisface.“Thekittylove—Imeanthesecondoption.Justdrop-insandfeedings.Idon’tknowaboutthelovepart.”Iscrubahandovermyface,takethephoneoffspeakerandbringingittomyear.Josh’smuffledlaughterinthebackgroundisn’thelpful.ThisistheweirdestconversationI’veeverhadinmylife,andthat’ssayingsomething,becauseoverthepastfewdaysI’vehadsomeprettyfreakingweirdconversationswithmymother.
“Allkittiesneedlove,isn’tthatright,Misery?Yes,itis!”
“Thisoneis…notthefriendliest.”AndI’mstartingtoquestionwhatexactlyI’msigningonfor.Buttheteamleavestomorrowevening,andwiththisjobbeingsonew,Ican’taskfortimeofftotakecareofafreakingcat.Icouldtryakennel,orwhateverthecatversionofthatis,butI’dhavetobeabletocatchPrinceFrancis,andsofarallmyattemptshaveleftmeareabunchofscratches.ThelastthingIneedistetanustoroundoutmysuper-shittyweek.
“Hmm.Well,I’lljusthavetomeethimorherandfindoutifthat’strue,won’tI?Whereareyouandyourkittylocated?Whatdateswillyouneedcareforyourfelinefriend?”sheasks.
“JustwestofToronto,inTerraCotta,andI’llbeawayfromThursdaytoSunday.”
“Oh!That’salovelylocation,andwithinmyservicearea.Letmecheckmyschedule.”Itsoundslikeshehitsthewrongbuttonacoupleoftimes.
IglanceovermyshoulderatJosh,whoisnowsittinginfrontofmydesk,clickingonpicturesoftheKittyWhispererandscrollingthroughthecomments
“Okay!Itlookslikeyou’reinluck.Icandefinitelyhelp.WouldyoubefreethiseveningatsixsoIcanmeetthefelineandgetasenseofwhatthey’regoingtoneedwhileyou’reawaywithyourmother?Which,bytheway,isverysweet.”
“Uh,that’s,uh…”Idon’tknowwhattosay,soIstumbleovermywordsandavoidcorrectingher.“Icanmeetyouatsix.”
“Excellent.Whydon’tyoutextmetheaddress?Oh,andwhat’sthekitty’sname?”
“It’sPrinceFrancis,”Ihalfmumble.
“Howregal!IlookforwardtomeetingPrinceFrancistonightthen!Haveawonderfulafternoon,Miles.Meowfornow!”Andwiththatshehangsup.chaptertwoROYALLYHISSEDKitty
Don’tdoit!Don’tyoudoit,Mr.Munchies!”I’montheothersideoftheroom,withagoodtwelvefeetseparatingus.Ican’tmovefastenoughtograbhimbeforeheknocksthevaseoffreshflowersoffthemantel,butIhaveotherwaystodealwithmischievouskitties
Hiswhite-and-orangepawisraisedintheair,littletoebeanstwitching.Myhandisinmypocket,fingeronthetrigger.Ineedtobequickeronthedrawthanheisonthepaw.Ipullthebaby-bluesquirtgunfreefrommypocket,gratefulthatitdoesn’tgetcaughtontheinsideofmycardiganthistime.HiseyesroundandherearsbackslightlyasIcloseoneeyeandtakeaimandhithimdirectlyinthefacewiththestreamofcoldwater.
Heyowlsangrilyandleapsoffthemantel,knockingoverapictureframeintheprocess,histailswattingthevase,whichteetersprecariouslyforseveralterrifyingsecondsbeforeitstills.Iexhalearelievedbreathandthengroanatthesoundofsomethingcrashingtothefloorintheotherroom.
MostofthetimeIlovemyjob,butdealingwithcatswhobehavelikewildteenagersisnotmyfavorite.Althoughthey’reoftenthesamelevelofherdable.
IrushthroughthelivingroomtothekitchenandsuckinahorrifiedbreathasIspotHogwartsonthefloor,piecesscatteredallovertheplace.OneofMr.Munchies’shumans,Jeff,isahugeLegofan.Whenhe’shadaparticularlydifficultday,hecomeshomeandunwindsbybuildingsomething.Overthepastseveralweekshe’sbeenworkingonHogwarts.It’squitedetailed,withseveralbuildings.Theentirekitchentableisoccupiedbytheproject.ExceptnowHufflepuff’sdormisnomore.
IspotMr.Munchiesontheothersideoftheroom,hidingbehindthegarbagecan.Itakeaim,buthe’stoofast,rushingoffdownthehallinabidtoescapethestreamofwaterI’vejustshotathim.Itmisses,hittingthewallinstead.
Isighandslipthewatergunbackinmypocket,thencheckthetime.Ihavehalfanhourtocleanupthismessanddriveacrosstowntomeetmypotentialnewkittyandhishumancaretaker.
AsIbendandstartpushingthescatteredLegosintoapile,mykneehitsthefloor,andatinyplasticpiecebitesintotheskin.ThreemoretimesIaccidentallysteponthecamouflagedpiecesandyelpinpain.I’musedtobeingscratched,andevenbittenonoccasion,butsteppingonLegosisitsownbrandoftorture.
Mr.Munchiesmakesanotherappearance,andwhenhe’ssureI’mnotgoingtosprayhimagain,herubshimselfonmylegs,meowinghisapologyforknockingovertheLegocreationandcausingmepainwithalltheLegoshrapnel.Hestepsonapiece,too,thendoesadonkeykicktounstickitfromhispaw.Onceit’sfree,hedropsdownonhisbutt,flopsontohisside,splayshistoebeans,givesthemalick,andthengoestoworkonhisprivates.
“Mr.Munchies,yourmannersaretheworst.”Ipokehimintheside,andheliftshisheadlongenoughtogivemeadisgruntledlook,asifit’smyfaultI’mcleaningupLegoswhilehe’sinthemiddleofwashinghisfurrynuts.
It’shardtostaymadathim,though.Thisishiswayoftellingmehewantsattentionandthathedoesn’tlikebeingleftalone.Igetit.LonelinessandboredomaretwoemotionsI’mnotfondofeither.Although,withcatslikeMr.Munchiestotakecareof,I’mrarelybored.Lonelyisdifferent,becausewecanbesurroundedbypeopleorpetsweloveandstillexperiencethathollowachesometimes.
OncetheLegopiecesarebackonthetable,IemailJefftotellhimaboutthemishapandthatIhopeIgotallthepieces.IleavetwosmallspraybottlesontheedgeofthekitchentabletodeterMr.Munchiesfromjumpingbackup,givehimafewextrapets,andfeedhimdinner.ButIforgothetreatsbecauseofhisnaughtybehaviorandthenlockupbehindme.
I’veonlybeencaringforMr.Munchiesforafewweeks,sohe’saworkinprogress.He’sgettingbetter,butit’saslowprocess.
Theneighborhoodhelivesinisupscale,withbighousesanddrivewayswithinterlockingstoneandmanicuredgardenstendedbylandscapers.Acoupleoftheneighborhoodkidsareridingbyontheirbikes.Theybothraisetheirhandsinaquickwaveastheyheadtowardthepark.ThewomanwholivesnextdoortoMr.Munchiespullsintoherdriveway.IsuppressaneyerollasshegetsoutofherMercedesSUV.She’salwaysdressedlikeshe’sgoingtoafuneral,andhermoodseemstomatch.
SheopensthebackdoorasRufus,herblackLab,jumpsout.HeboundsthroughhergardenandacrossMr.Munchies’sdriveway,tonguelolling,tailwagging,barkingexcitedlyasheapproachesme.
“Rufus!Comebackhere!Rufus!Comeback!”hishumanscreeches.
Rufusdoesn’theedhercommand.Thisisn’tnew.Butbeforehecanjumpuponme,Iholdoutahand.“Nojumping,Rufus!”
Hecomestoahalt,butstandsuponhishindlegs,thenbouncesthreetimes,likehe’sdoinghisbestTiggerimpersonation.
“Sit,Rufus,”Icommand.
Andhedoes.Ifighttosuppressmygrin,becauseI’mawarethatmyabilitytogetthisdogtolistentomedriveshishumanupthewall.
Imightbeacatperson,butIloveallfour-leggedcreatures.ExcepttheoneswholookatmelikeI’madecentmeal.
“Goodboy,Rufus.Goodboy.”Iscratchbehindhisearwhilehistailthumpsagainsttheground.“Who’sahappyboy?”Iaskhim.
Hishumanstalksdownherdriveway,heelsclippingangrilyasshetraversesthesidewalkandcontinuestostruttowardmeandRufus.“Idon’tknowwhyheneverlistenstome.”ShegrabsRufusbythecollar.“Comeon,let’sgetinside.”
Icouldtellherwhy,butthelasttimeIofferedheradviceshenearlybitmyheadoff,soIsmileandshrug.
Sheyanksonce,twice,athirdtime,butRufus’sbuttstaysfirmlyplantedonthedriveway.
“Comeon,Rufus!”Herfaceisturningred.
ItakeastepbacktogiveherandRufussomespace,andofcoursehefollowsme.Likelybecausehecansmellthetreatsinmypocket.Eventuallyshegetshimtoleave,buthe’sreluctant.HestopsandplantshisbuttonthesidewalkthreetimesbeforeshesuccessfullymoveshimfromthedrivewayI’mstandingintohers.Andhebarkstheentireway
WhenIgettomySUV,IpunchthenewaddressintomyGPSandcheckthetime.It’satwenty-two-minutedrive,whichmeansI’llarriveshortlyaftersix.Ihatebeinglate,especiallyforanintroductorymeetingwithapotentialnewclient.Itsetsabadprecedent.
IsendMr.Thornaquickmessagetolethimknowandgoonmyway.Luckandthelightsareonmyside,andImanagetomakeittothenewhouseatsixonthedot.Notearly,butnotlateeither.Theneighborhoodisolderandmoreestablished,withmodesthouses.Thestreetsarelinedwithmaturetrees,thesidewalkscrackedinplaces.Theyardsvary:somehavelovelygardens,andothersaredominatedbyweeds.Onehousehasfakelawnturfinsteadofrealgrass.Iwouldhazardaguessthatanelderlypersonlivesthere.
Ipullupinfrontofanolder,slightlyrun-downbacksplit.Theshutterslookasthoughtheyonceweredarkblue,buttheyhavefadedtoamurkyblue-gray.Thewhitesidingisslightlyyellowed.Thefrontgardensneedagoodweeding,andthedrivewayiscrackedandpittedinplaces.AgoldBuickthat’satleastadecadeoldisparkedinthedriveway.
Itmakesmecuriousaboutthepersonwholiveshere,andwhetherthisMilespersonresearchedmyratesbeforehecalled.I’mcompetitivelypriced,buttalkingaboutmoneyisoneofmyleastfavoritepartsofthisjob.NotbecauseIdon’tthinkwhatIdoisvaluable,butsomepeopledon’tunderstandhowIcanearnalivingtakingcareofotherpeople’scats.Oftenthosepeoplearedogpeople.Theycandefenddogwalkers,buttheycan’tcomprehendthatcatsneedjustasmuchhumancompanionshipastheirmoredependentfour-leggedcounterparts.
Asleekblackcarpassesmeandpullsintothedriveway.It’sanicecar.Probablyexpensive.Iglanceatmyreflectionintherearviewmirror,checkingtomakesuremyhairisn’tacompletewrecksinceIwasdrivingwiththewindowsdown.
Igrabthelintrollerfromtheseatbesideme,givemycardiganandchestaquickroll,cuttheengine,takeadeepbreath,andgivemyselfapeptalk.“Youcanpeopletoday,Kitty.Humansandcatsaren’tthatdifferent.Smile,befriendly,anddon’tbite.”Irollmyeyesatmyself.I’mmuchbetterwithanimalsthanIamwithhumans.Animalsdon’thaveconversationalexpectationsthewayhumansdo.ButIcandealwithpeopleinsmalldoses.AndI’msuccessfullyrunningmyownbusinesswhereIconversewithclientsregularly,soclearlyI’mnotthatterriblewiththewholesocialthing.
IroundthehoodofmySUVasamanopensthedriver’ssidedoor.Hisfoothitsthepaveddriveway.ThefirstthingInoticearehisblackpolishedshoes.Thesecondarethesockscoveredinaboneandpawprint.Dogperson?Thentheblackdresspants.Iallowmygazetoclimbashestepsoutofthecar,risingwithhisleanframe.
Hisattentionisonthephoneinhishand,whichgivesmetheopportunitytodoathoroughvisualassessment.AndIembracethatopportunitywithenthusiasm.
He’swearingapalebluebutton-downandatiewithwhatlookslikeabinarycodepatternonit.Hisjawisangular,hislipsfull,hisnosestraight.He’swearingblack-rimmedglasses,hisdarkhairispartedatthesideandstyledwithpurpose.MymouthgoesdryasIputtogethertheindividualcomponentsandcreateawholepicture.
MilesThornisexceptionallygood-looking.Thekindofgood-lookingthatmakesmethinkofHallmarkmovies,orbumpingintosomeoneandaccidentallyonpurposedroppingeverythinginmyhandsjusttohaveanexcusetostageanintroduction.
“Hi!Youmustbe—”
Hedoesn’tevensparemeaglanceashecutsmeoffbyraisingasinglefinger.Thenheturnsawaysohisbackismostlytomeandraiseshisphonetohismouth.“I’mmeetingwithacatsitterrightnow.I’llmessagewhenI’mdone.Shouldn’tbelong.”
I’msobusybeingdisappointedthathe’sruinedhisattractivenessbybeinghorriblyrudethatIdon’tpayattentiontowheremyfeetaregoing.Mytoecatchesonthecurb,andIstumbleforward.
Ilosethebattlewithgravityandgosprawlingacrossthedriveway.Mypursefliesoutofmyhand,andbecauseIneverzipitup,thecontentsscatter.
“Shit.Areyouokay?”Polishedblackshoesappearbesideme,andthentwostronghandsslideundermyarms,liftingmebacktomyfeet.
AndnowI’mbacktofindinghimattractive.“I’mfine.Thankyou.Embarrassed,butfine.”Heatclimbsmyneckandsettlesinmycheeks.
“Whatthehellhappened?”Heglancesaroundasifhe’sexpectingsomeonetohavebeenresponsibleformyclumsiness.
“Ididn’tseethecurb.”Itouchmytempleandrealizemyglassesarenolongeronmyface.Withoutthemmyvisionisn’tthebest.NotsobadthatIcan’tseesomeonestandinginfrontofme,butbadenoughthatIcan’treadroadsigns.“Ilostmyglasses.”
“Iseethem.”Hesidestepsmeandbendstopickthemup.
Insteadofhandingthemover,though,hebringsthemupasthoughhe’sgoingtoplacethemonmyfacelikemyeyedoctorusedtodowhenIwasakid.Istartleandheendsuppokingmeinthecheekwithoneofthearms.
“Idon’tknowwhyIdidthat.Here.”Heshakeshisheadandthruststhematme.
Ourfingertipsgrazewiththehandoff.It’sinnocentcontact,fraughtwithmyembarrassmentandhis,butevenwithhowmortifiedIam,warmth,notfrommortificationthistime,spreadsthroughmylimbsandsettlesawkwardlyinthepitofmystomach.
Donotgetbutterfliesoveracuteguywithquestionablemanners,Kitty.
Imanagetogetmyglassesbackonwithoutpokingoutmyowneyeballorburstingintoflames,whichI’mconsideringawin.Therearenewscratchesontherightlens,butabitofbuffingshouldtakecareofit.
Hecheckshisphoneagain,whileasking,“You’renotgoingtosuemeoranything,areyou?”
“I’msorry,what?”
Heshoveshisphoneinhispocket.Hischeeks,whicharehighandsharp,aretingedpink.“Nothing.Sorry.It’sbeenaday.You’reokay?”
“FairlyembarrassedandfeelinglikethisisanintroductionIwishIcoulderaseandtryagain,butotherwisefine.”Iextendahand,wishingmymouthknewwhentotakeabreakwiththeawkwardwordsandhopingwecanstartfreshwithahandshake.“I’mKittyHart,owneroftheKittyWhisperer,catcareandtrainingservices.YoumustbeMilesThorn.”
Hestaresatmyhandforafewsecondsbeforehewrapshisaroundmine.Hehaslongfingerswithneatlyfilednails.There’samarkofpenonhisthumb.“YoucanjustcallmeMiles.”
Butit’sthestrangehumthatseemstorunupmyarmandthenpingitswaythroughtherestofmybodythatmakesmybraincellsturnoffforamomentandmyhormonesfireuplikeafurnaceonfullblast.It’salsothereasonmyvoicegetsallhuskywhenIsay,“Hi,Miles.”
Hesmirks,likemaybeherealizeshe’shavingthiseffectonme,andsays,inthesamehuskytone,“Hi,Kitty.”
Iletgoofhishandandputsomespacebetweenus.“IshouldpickupallthisstuffandthenmeetPrinceFrancis.”Icrouchandstartgatheringtheitemsmypursevomitedalloverthedriveway,likeadrunkcollegekidafteranightoutonthetown.
Milesstandsthereforafewseconds,watching,beforeheshoveshisglassesuphisnoseandmutters,“Letmehelp.”
Ican’ttellifhe’sequallyasawkwardasme,orrude,orjust…sociallyinept.I’vealwaysbeenwhatpeoplecallquirky,whichisbasicallyanicewayofsayingI’mweird.I’mawarethatdrivingaroundinanSUVthatlookslikeacatwiththeKittyWhispereradvertisedonthesideisatypical.AndIembracethatsideofmypersonality.Whybebeigewhenyoucanbeacalico?
IshiftandnabthetamponsbeforeMileshasachanceto.
“Wow,youhavealotofpens.”Hegathersanentirehandful.“Andlipbalms.”
“Yourlipscanneverbetoosoft!”Isay,thenimmediatelywishIcoulddropthosewordsdowntheclosestsewergrate.
Hegivesmethatsmirkygrinagain,whiletippinghisheadtotheside,asifthesmileweighshisheaddown.“Hmm.”Heflipsthelipbalmbetweenhisfingersandholdsitup.Itadvertisesabookbyoneofmyfavoriteauthors.“I’veneverseenlipbalmlikethisbefore.Isitmanflavored?”
Isnatchitfromhimandjamitbackinmypurse,feelingmyfaceheatagain.Ican’ttellifhe’spokingfunornot.“It’sswagfromabookconventionIwentto.”
“Theygiveoutlipbalmswithhalf-nakeddudesonthematbookconventions?”
“Theromanceones,yes.”Ipushmyglassesupthebridgeofmynoseandgrabthepacketoftissuesthatfellout,andausedoneIneedtotossinthegarbage.
“Therearebookconventionsspecificallyforromance?”
“Thereare.Thousandsofpeopleattendthem.”AndnowIsounddefensive.
“Huh.Ihadnoidea.”Hepassesoverthemittfullofpens,mostofwhicharealsofromtheauthorconventionIattendedafewmonthsagowithmysister,Hattie.
Oncethedrivewayisclearandmypurseisfullagain,IfallintostepbesideMilesasweheadforthefrontdoor
Theporchissmall,withasinglerockingchairandatinybistrotable.Awiltedplantsitsontopofit,lookinglikeit’sinneedofaseriousdrink.
Milesunlocksthedoor,butpausesbeforeheopensit.“Justsoyou’reaware,mymomisabitofahoarder,andIhaven’thadachancetotidyup.”
“Don’tworry.”IsmileinwhatIhopeisreassurance.“Itakecareofcatsforalltypesofhumans.”
Henodsandturnstheknob,carefullyopeningthedoor.Hestepsinsidefirst,flipsonthehalllight,thenmotionsmeinside.
“Youcankeepyourshoeson,”hetellsmewhenIstarttotoeoffmyBobs
“Idon’tmind.”
“It’ssafer.Mymother’scatisadestructivelittleshit.”Histonedoesnotimplyaffection.
“Isee.”Itrynottojudgehimforthederogatorywayhereferstothecat.They’reonlybadlybehavedwhenthey’reinneedofattention.I’msurprisedwhenhedoesn’tannounceourarrival.“WillIbemeetingyourmothertodayaswellasourfelinefriend?”
Hemovesawayfromthedoor,makingmoreroomformetostepinsidethehall.Thefrontentrywayisnarrow,andasmallclosettotherightisstuffedfullofjacketsandshoes.Totheleftisanarrowsideboardpiledhighwithmail,magazines,andnewspapersthathavespilledoverontothefloor.ThenameontheenvelopereadsTabithaThorn,whoI’massumingishismother.
Milesshakeshishead.“She’sinthehospital.”
“Ohmygosh.I’msosorry.”Ireachoutandputahandonhisforearm,thenretractitimmediately,becauseIdon’tknowhimwellenoughtorandomlytouchhim.“Ididn’trealize.”
“Ididn’tsayanythingoverthephonebecausetherewasnogoodwaytophraseit,soIjustleftitout.Andshe’sokay,butthere’sasolidchanceshemightneedmorecarethanshecangetlivinghere.”Hewavesinthedirectionofthelivingroom.
AndnowIfeelawfulforbringingitup.Maybehe’sbeingnicebysayingit’sokay.Maybeit’stheoppositeofokay,andnowI’mmakingthingsmoreuncomfortable.Maybethisexplainswhyhe’sbeensorude.“Thatmustbedifficult.”Itrytothinkofsomethingelsetosay,butmybrainseemstohavelosttheabilitytoformthoughtsandputthemintowordsofcomfort.
Heclearshisthroat.“It’slife.I’llgetitsortedout.Whydon’tIintroduceyoutotheresidentdemonsowecangetthiswrappedup?I’vegotagametowatchtonight.”
Ormaybehe’sacompletelyheartlessjerk.Hismomisinthehospital,andhe’smoreworriedaboutcatchingsomegamethanheisanythingelse.Andthat’sthesecondtimehe’sreferredtoPrinceFranciswithdisdain.It’sclearlynotmeantasatermofendearment.I’mtryingtobeunderstanding,buthisimpatienceandtonearen’tparticularlyreassuring.
Ifollowhimdownthenarrowhall,pastasetofstairsleadinguptowhatIassumearethebedrooms—theytooarehalfcoveredinmagazinesandsmallboxes.Wemakearight,andIsuckinagaspasItakeinthelivingroom.
“Asyoucansee,Iwasn’tlyingaboutthehoarding.”Milestipshischintowardtheverybusylivingroomandstuffshishandinhispantspocket.
Itakeintheroom,mygazeskippingoverthesideboardtotheright.It’sfullofthoseporcelain-headeddollsfromtheearlynineteenthcentury,andtheireyesfollowmewhereverIgo.IsuppressashudderasItakeasmallstepforwardandabsorbtherestoftheroom.Therearetwohugefloor-to-ceilingshelvingunitsontheothersideoftheroom.They’refilledwithknickknacksandframedphotos.Betweenthemisagasfireplace.Themantelhousesaplethoraofgnomes,spanningeveryholiday.ThereareChristmasandEastergnomes,springandsummergnomes,onewhosehatisdecoratedinaCanadianflagpattern.There’sevenaHalloweengnome.
AndthenIspothim.Thenon-gnomeamidthegaggleofstuffed,beardedmen.
IreachoutandgrabMiles’sarm.Idon’tknowwhy,apartfromthefactthatI’mirrationallyexcitedoverthediscoveryI’vemade.Thisislikefindingaposterofyourfavoritebandatagaragesale.
Inmyexcitement,Isqueezehisforearmandampleasantlysurprisedbythefirmness.Imustenjoyitafewsecondstoolong,becausehisgazeshiftstowhereI’mkneadinghisarm.Ihastilyreleasehim.“Youdidn’ttellmePrinceFrancisisasphynx.”
“Huh?”Milesseemsconfused.
“PrinceFrancisisasphynxcat.Hairless.”
“Oh,yeah.”Milesrubshisforearmabsentlyandsniffs.
ItentativelytakeasteptowardPrinceFrancis,whoregardsmewarilyfromhisperchontopofthemantel.Hisforeheadwrinklesandhisnosetwitches.“Hello,handsome,aren’tyoujustasmajesticasyournameimplies,”Icroon.
“Helookslikeashavedballsackwitheyes,”Milesmutters.
Myheadwhipsaround.“Whataterriblethingtosay!He’sbeautiful.”
Hegivesmeadisbelievinglook.“He’sthecatequivalentofoneofthosehouseelfthingsfromHarryPotter.”
Oh,Milesisdefinitelyoneofthosehumans.Theanimalloverwhocanonlyappreciatethefurryfriendwhobelievesthesunrisesandsetsonhim.Itampdowntheurgetogivethemanapieceofmymind.Hismotherisinthehospital.Peopledealwiththatkindofstressdifferently.Butitdoesn’tnegatethefactthatallanimalsneedlove.
Whenwehearalowthud,wesimultaneouslylooktowardthemantelandwatchthesunflowergnometumbletothefloor.
PrinceFrancislickshispawandyawnsloudly.
Igivethekittyanunimpressedlook.“PrinceFrancis,that’snotnice.”Itakeanotherstepforwardandnoticetheflooraroundtheshelvingunitsislitteredwithcasualties.Notallofthemhavesurvivedtheirswandiveinonepiece.
PrinceFrancistipshisheadandmakesanoise,somewherebetweenameowandasqueak.Itipmyheadaswellandslipmyhandinmypocket.Thewatergunisstillinthere.
“Stayverystill,”Iwarn.
“Areyoutalkingtomeorthegremlin?”Milesasks.
Ifrown.I’mlosingcountofalltheinsultsMileshaslobbedatPrinceFrancissincewesetfootinthishouse.He’snotacatperson.Atall.
“I’mtalkingtoyou.”
PrinceFrancisraisesapawandbatsatthegnomenexttohim.Atap.Atest.
“PrinceFrancis,”Iwarn.
Whenheraiseshispawagain,Iwithdrawthewatergun.
“Whatthehell?”
BeforeIcantakeaim,I’mtackledtothefloor.chapterthreeDON’TATTACKTHEKITTYWHISPERERMiles
BeforeIconsidermyactions,IlaunchmyselfatKittyandtakehertotheground.It’sbeenahellofaweekalreadyandit’sonlyTuesday.ThelastthingIwanttoexplaintomymother—whosemindseemstobefailingherataratethat’sdifficulttofathom—isthatherpreciousPrinceFrancisisnomorebecausethecatladyIhiredtobabysithimshothim.Forknockingagnomeoffthefireplacemantel.
“What’swrongwithyou?Youcan’tshootthefuckinggremlin!”Ishout.
IenduponthefloorwithKitty,mybodycoveringhermuchsmaller,softerone.Herthick,wavyauburnhairisinmymouth.Herbodyisundermine.
Sheraisesthehandholdingtheweapon,andInabitfromherwhileshesputtersfromunderherhairandme.“Whattheheck!It’sawatergun.”
RealizationdawnsandhorrorslowlyseepsinasIfullyprocessthefactthatI’vetackledawomantotheground.
Irolloffherandpopbacktomyfeet,glancingdownatthebaby-bluewaterguninmyhand.It’sleakingonthefloor,thestopperhavingpoppedfree.I’mmissingthenet,asfarasfirstimpressionsgo.Itcouldalsobeconsideredassault.
AsI’mabouttospeak,thecatyowlsloudly.Helauncheshimselfoffthemantel,landsonthecoffeetable,skidsacrossseveralmagazines,hitsthefloor,andrushesdownthehall.
Thisintroductionisnotgoinggreat.“HowwasIsupposedtoknowitwasawatergun?”IreplacethestopperandtossitonthecouchbeforeIturnbacktoherandbelatedlyextendahand.
Sheglaresatmeandignoresmyofferofhelp,usingtheedgeofthecoffeetabletogettoherfeetinstead.“It’sbabyblue!”
“Handgunscanbebabyblue.Mygreat-auntGerdiewononeatafairwhenIwaskid.”It’snotthebestcolorforahandgun.Alittletooenticingforkids,asfarasI’mconcerned,butGreat-AuntGerdiethoughtitwasveryfashionable.
“Ababy-bluehandgun?That’s…”Kittylooksappropriatelyappalledbythisrevelation,butshebitesbackwhateveropinionshemighthave.“WhyintheworldwouldyouthinkI’dbringanactualguntoakittycareintroduction?HowinthemeowwouldIbeabletorunasuccessfulbusinessifIwentaroundpullingfirearmsoutofmypocketeverytimeacatmisbehaved?”
Ican’tdecideifIheardthatincorrectlyornot.“Idon’tknow.Thewholepullinganykindofgunwasunexpected.”Irunahandthroughmyhairandnoticethatshe’sonceagainmissingherglasses.AndmyhorroriscompoundedwhenInoticethatasidefromthepinkhuetohercheeks,shealsohasrugburnontherightone.Icouldn’tmakeaworseimpressionifItried.AndIreallyneedtogethomesoIcanwatchthegameandtakenotesbecauseCoachDavisisconcernedaboutParker,ourrookieplayer,andwe’replayingagainstOttawanextweek.
ParkerO’Toolestartedwiththeteamonlythisseason,buthe’salreadyshowingalotofpromise.Hegrewupnotfarfromwheremyfamilyusedtospendthesummersonthelake.He’sasmall-towntransplant,andthebig-citylifeisawholelotofcultureshock.We’vealreadybondedoverourmutualloveofthebuttertartshopinhishometownandATVtrailblazinginthesummerandsnowmobilinginthewinter.
ButParker’sgameperformanceneedstotakeabackseat,becauseIcan’taffordtolosethiscatsitter.Idon’thavetimetofindanotherone.She’sstillstaringatmewithsomethingbetweendisbeliefandirritation.Hereyesarehugeandwideandadeep,rich,forestgreen.Herhair,whichwasalreadywavyandvoluminous,isnowawildmess,thankstomeattackingher.
Hertoplipisthinandbowed,herbottomonefullandpouty.Hernoseissmallandcute,herchinnarrow.Herfaceisalmostheartshaped.She’scurvyandsoft,andIshouldnotbenoticinganyofthesethingsrightnow,becauseIjusttackledher.Checkingheroutmakesmecreepyontopofbeingagrade-Ajerk.
“Lookatme!”ShemotionstoherrumpledshirtwithTHEKITTYWHISPERERwrittenacrossherchestandherleopard-printcardigan.“Ilovecats!WhyintheworldwouldyouthinkI’dshootone?”
Shemakesagoodpoint,notthatI’mwillingtoadmititaloud.“Well,youwereactuallyplanningtoshoothim.”
“Withfreakingwater!”Shepointstothestill-leakingwatergunsittingonthecouch.It’sverymuchaglaringbeaconformyidiocyinallitsbaby-blueglory.
“I’mstillnotwrong.”Idon’tknowwhyI’msocommittedtobeingagiantd-bag,otherthanIdon’twanttobehereandIdon’thavetimeforthisormymother’spain-in-the-asscat.
Shemakesanoisethatsoundssomewherebetweenincredulityandfrustration.Thendropstoherkneesagain,searchingunderthetableforherglasses.WhichIknockedoffherface.WhenItackledhertothefloor.
“Sorry,”Imutterbelatedly.
Shegruntsandalmostbangsherheadonthetable,nearlyknockingoveroneofthemanyotterfigurinescoveringthesurface,buttheyteeterbackintoplace.Unfortunately.
Kittystandsandreplacesherglasses,adjustingthemsotheysitstraight,andtouchesherhairbeforesmoothingouthertop.
Thisintrocould’vegoneawholelotsmoother.“Ishouldn’thavetackledyou.”
“NexttimeI’llissueawatergunwarning.”Sherubsherelbow.
Ikneadthebackofmyneck,tryingtofigureoutawaybacktohergoodside.Maybehonestywilldothetrick.“Ihaveadog.Idon’treallygetcats.”
Shepursesherlips,butslowlyarrangeshermouthintoastiffsmile.“Ifiguredyouwereadogperson.Catsaredifferent.”
“They’refurrylittlepsychopaths—orinthiscase,anakedone.”
I’mawardedwitharaisedeyebrow.
Ishouldprobablyshutthehellup.Istuffmyhandsinmypockets,unsurewhattodowiththem.Joshwouldbelaughinghisassoffifhecouldseemenow.I’mnotoriouslynotsmoothwiththeladies.Seemetacklingthisonefordetails.
“They’reindependent,notpsychopaths.Andtheypickuponnegativeenergy,whichwouldexplainwhyhe’shidingfromyou.ShouldIassumehe’sgenerallyskittishwhenyou’rearound?”
Iblowoutabreath,workingtofindsomepatience,andmaybeasideofmanners.“Ihaven’thadenoughcontacttobeabletoanswerthat.”I’veonlyjustmetthiswoman,andIneedhertotakecareofthisfurlessnightmare.TellingherIhaven’tseenmymothersinceIdroppedflowersoffonMother’sDayprobablyisn’tgoingtowinmeanypoints.Infact,itonlyaddstomyd-bagstatus.
Shenods,notpressingfurther.“DoyouknowwhereyourmotherkeepsPrinceFrancis’streats?Itmighthelpifwecanenticehimwithsomethinghelovesratherthancontinuetoinsulthim.”
“Probablyinthekitchen.”Ifoundhisfoodinthepantry,soI’mhopingthetreatsarecloseby.
Ileadherthroughthelivingroom,motioningtothebrokentrinketsasweskirtaroundthem.“Ididn’thavetimetostopinyesterday,soI’mthinkinghewasprettymadaboutthat.”
“Howlonghasyourmombeeninthehospital?”Kitty’svoiceissoftandraspy,asthoughsheneedstoclearherthroat.
“Afewdays.Thedoctorsthinkshemighthaveearly-onsetdementia.”WhichissomethingtheytoldmeacoupleofhoursagowhenIstoppedatthehospitalbeforecominghere.Itreframesalotofourconversationsoverthepastyear.NowI’mbeginningtorealizeshehonestlydidn’trememberthecallsorthevisits.Andthatmakesmefeelevenshittier.“Idon’tknowhowlongshe’sgoingtobethere,tobehonest,andIliveinthecity,sodrivingbackandforthallthetimeisn’talwaysreasonable,andsometimesItravelforwork.”Andsofar,allmyinteractionswithPrinceFrancishavebeenlessthanpleasant,socoveringmorethanthebasicshasn’tbeenhighonmyprioritylist.
“Right.Yousaidyouhaveatripcomingup.”
Inod.Thisisbetter.IfIcansticktofactsmaybeIcanalsobelessofajerk.“I’monlygoneforacoupleofdays,buttryingtojuggleworkandmymotherinthehospitalandhercatisalot.WhichiswhyIcalledyou.”
She’slostabitofthatstiffedge,andherexpressionturnssympathetic.“That’salotofstress.”
AllI’vedonesofarisdumpacontainerofcatfoodintothebowlwhenIstopby,cleanupwhatevercrapPrinceFrancishastossedonthefloor,andthendrivehome.AndI’veonlydonethattwice.Thisbeingthesecondtime.
Basedonherwebsiteandsocialmedia,Kittyseemstobededicatedtotakingcareofotherpeople’scats,sohopefullyshe’sbetteratmanagingPrinceFrancisthanIam.
Iopenthepantrydoorandturnmyheadaway,raisingmyarmsoIcansneezeintomyelbow.“Freakin’allergies.”
“Blessyou,”Kittymutters.
Idropmyarmandcringeatthesheervolumeoffoodmymotherkeepsonhand.Shelivesalone,sothere’sabsolutelynoreasonforhertohavesixboxesofcornflakesortenjarsofpeanutbutter,halfofwhichareprobablyexpired.Untilacouplehoursago,Ibelieveditwasbecauseofhercompulsivesaleshopping,butmaybeshedoesn’trememberwhatshehasinthepantry,sosheoverstocks.Thisplaceneedsadeepclean,that’sforsure.Idon’tknowwhenI’mgoingtohavethetimetodothat.Andbeinginthishouseisn’texactlypleasant.ThememoriesIhaveoflivingherearen’tgreat.
“Ahh,herewego.”Kittybrushesbyme,thebriefcontactpullingmeoutofmyheadandmyunwantedtripdownmemorylane.Shepicksupapackageofdrytreatsandtwodifferentcansofcatfood.“DoweknowwhichoneisPrinceFrancis’sfavoriteflavor?”
Ishrug.“Isn’titallthesamestinkyshit?”
Sherollshereyes.“No.It’snotallthesamestinkyshit.Justlikesomepeoplepreferbeefoverchickenorseafood,sodocats.Youcouldtryaskingyourmother.”
“Yeah,sure.Icandothat.”Sheseemstoremembershehasacatwithoutaproblem,butIhavenoideaifshe’llbeabletoidentifyhisfavoritekindoffood.
“We’llgivethisoneatryandseehowheresponds.”Shereturnsoneofthecanstotheshelfandbrushesbyme,thesmellofherperfumeorbodywashlingeringasshepasses.Iclosethepantrydoorandfollowherbacktothekitchen.Ilearnedthehardwaythatwhenthedoorisopen,PrinceFrancishasaccesstoanythingthat’sinapaperbag.Hechewedaholethroughthedryfoodandgorgeduntilhepukedtheotherday.Therewerebarelychewedkittykibblepukesnakesalloverthekitchenfloor.
Kittyshakesthecontaineroftreats,andafewsecondslaterPrinceFrancis’sbaldheadappears.KittytossesacoupletreatsinPrinceFrancis’sdirectionandmakesatuttingsound.Slowly,overthecourseofafewminutes,PrinceFrancismakeshiswayacrossthekitchentowardher.
Icheckmyphonefornewmessages.Thegamehasalreadystarted,andtheGMisblowingupmyphonewithmessagesaboutstrategyandpullingnumbersfortomorrow.“Becareful,”Iwarnabsently.“He’snotthefriendliest.”
“Heprobablysensesyourdislikeforhim.”Shekeepsherattentiononthecatasheprowlscloser.
Idon’targue,becauseshe’sundoubtedlyright.Instead,ImessagetheGMandtellhimI’mnothomebutI’mrecordingthegameandI’llmessageassoonasI’mfree.
WhenIfinallyglanceupfrommyphonePrinceFrancisisstretchedoutonthefloorbesideKittywithhisheadhalfinherlap,kneadingtheair.
“Oh,lookatyou,whatahandsomeboyyouare!Whatabeautifulpinkbellyyouhave!”sheexclaims.
Ileanagainstthedoorjambandwatchthisgrownwomancooingattheugliestcatinthehistoryoftheworld,tellinghimhowhandsomeheisandhowmuchhemustmisshishuman.She’sanoddone,that’sforsure.She’salsoprettyinanunconventionalway.Notthatitmatterswhatshelookslike.PrinceFrancisjustwantsfoodatregularintervals.
Eventuallyshegiveshimhalfacanoffood,whichhedevoursinlessthantwominutes,andthenheclimbsintoherlapandputshispawsonhershoulders.Shestands,holdingPrinceFrancislikeababy.Hepurrscontentedlyandrubshisheadagainstherchin,thentriestostuffhisheaddownthefrontofhershirt.
“PrinceFrancis,dude,that’sharassment.Youcan’tdothatifyouwantKittytocomeback.”I’mnotsureIhavearighttoscoldhimsinceItackledherlikeafootballplayer,butIreallydoneedherhelp.Heclearlyhasnointentionoflisteningtome,becauseitlookslikehe’stryingtoclimbrightinsidehershirt.“Doyouwantmetoshoothimwiththewatergun?”Ithinkit’sstillinthelivingroom.
Thatearnsmeanothereyeroll.“No,youdon’tneedtoshoothim.”Sheshovesherownhanddownthefrontofhershirtandafewsecondslaterproducesakittytreat.“Ah,therewego.”SheletsPrinceFranciseatitoutofherhand.“Hazardofthejob.”
Thisissoweird.“I,uh,needtocleanupthemesshe’smade.It’sprobablybetterifIdothatwhilehe’soccupied.”Also,Ifeellikemetalkinglessisbetter.
“Goahead.I’lljustgetsomesnuggletimeinwiththelittlePrince.Wedefinitelydon’twantallthosebrokentrinketsonthefloor,wheretheycancuthistoebeans.”
“Toebeans?”
“Thepadsofhisfeet.”Shecrossesovertothelounger,whichhasbeenaroundsinceIwasakid,andshesinksdown.Literally.Itseemslikethespringshavegoneintheseatcushion.Shedoesn’tcomplain,though.JustletsPrinceFranciskneadherlegsuntilthey’retenderizedenoughthathecancurlupinaballinherlap.
Iquicklysweepupbrokenknickknacks,sneezing,occasionallycheckingonthegameandmymessagesfromtheGMbetweentripstothegarbagecan.Itossabunchofthestuffonthesidetablesintoaboxtopreventmoreissuesinthefuture.Ineedaweekendtogothroughtheplace,butthat’snotgoingtohappenuntilI’mbackfrommytrip.HopefullywithKittyaroundtohelp,therewillbelesstossingstuffoffshelves
BythetimeI’mdone,PrinceFrancishaswrappedhimselfaroundhernecklikeahideousstolewhileKittyleafsthroughaveryancientcopyofWoman’sDaymagazine.
“I’mallset.”
Shelooksupfromthemagazine.“I’llfeedhimonelasttimethen.”Shesetsthedog-earedmagazineonthestackofothersjustlikeitandleansforward.PrinceFrancisstandsuponhershoulders,backarchedandmouthopeninawideyawnbeforehehopsontothearmofthechairandthenontothefloor,trottingtowardthekitchenlikehealreadyknowsthedrill.
“Whyisn’thedestroyingthings?”Idon’tmeanforittocomeoutsoundinglikeanaccusation,butbasedonherarchedbrow,itdoes.
“Becausehe’sgettingwhathewants—loveandattention.”Shedumpsthebalanceofthestinkyfoodontoaplate.“ShouldIassumeyoudon’tknowwhathisfeedingscheduleislike?”
“Icanaskmymom,butIcan’tbesureshe’llknow.”EverytimeIadmitthis,Ifeellikeanevenbiggerbagofshitfornotseeinghowbadthingshavegotten.Herhousewasn’tnearlythisclutteredthelasttimeIwasinit.OrmaybeIjustdidn’tnotice.Orchosenotto.
Shesighs,andsomeofherhaughtyirritationwanes.“Whydon’tIstartbycomingbytwiceaday?Icanadjustdependingonhisbehavior.He’sknockingstuffoffthetablesbecausehe’snotgettingthelovehe’susedto,andit’stheonlywayhecantellyouhowhe’sfeeling.”
“KindoflikehowmydogwillchewmyshoesifI’mtoolatecominghome,”Imutter.That’sonlyhappenedonce.Wilfredisagreatdog.
“Yes,butusuallyit’sonasmallerscale.Andwhentheydoitinfrontofyou,likePrinceFrancisdidwhenwefirstwalkedin,it’sagoodsignthathe’snothappyandhewantsyoutoknow.Hemisseshishuman—yourmom,Imean.”
“Ithinkthey’reprettymuchattachedatthehip,orthelap.”Atleastthat’showitseemswiththefrequencyofmessagesabouthim.
Shenodsandmakesanotherlittlenoise.“There’sagoodchance.Consistentaffectionwillhelp.Yousaidyou’llbeawayforafewdays?Doesthatmeanyou’llonlyneedmetostopbywhileyou’retraveling?”
“IfIcouldgetonyourregularschedulestartingThursdayforawhile,thatwouldbegood.It’llprobablybetemporary,afewweeksatmost?Butfoodtwiceadayseemsnormal?”I’mcrossingmyfingersthedoctorswillgivehertheall-clearsoon,butthatmightbewishfulthinking.
“IshouldbeabletofitPrinceFrancisintomytwice-dailyroute.I’musedtoeverythingfromshort-termcaretodailycheck-ins.Ihaveapairofdoctorswhoarebothonshiftworkthisweekwholivecloseby,soIstopinandfeedMr.Munchiesatleastonceaday,sometimestwice,andthenI’llheadoverhere.”
“Mr.Munchies?”Idon’tknowwhyIkeepaskingquestions.
“He’sarescuewhowasownedbyafamilywhohabituallyoverfedhimpeoplefood.”ShedeftlytransfersPrinceFrancistoonearmandholdshimlikehe’safootball.Hedoesn’tseemtomindintheleast.ShepullsherphoneoutofherpocketandshowsmeapictureofMr.Munchies.Helookslikeagiantorangeandwhitefluffball.Sortoflikeaninflatedfurrycatballoon.
“Wow.He’s—”
“Squishy?Wehavehimonadietandexerciseroutine.It’sslowgoingbecausehe’sonlymotivatedbyfood.”Shesmilesfondlyatthepicture.
“Ihopehe’sanindoorcat,otherwisehemightgetmistakenforagiant,furryKong.”
Kitty’stoplipcurls.“Whataterriblethingtosay!”
“Butalsonotuntrue.”Myfoot-in-mouth-syndromeisonlygettingworse,itseems.
Shesetshimonthefloor.“I’llputPrinceFrancisontemporaryrotationwithMr.Munchies.”
“Okay,thanks.Iuh…knowmymomwouldappreciatethis.”
“Nokittywantstobealoneallthetime.”Againwiththeslightlystiffsmile.“I’lljustneedakey,andI’llsendyoualistofquestionsforyoutoaskyourmomrightnow.”Shepunchesabunchofkeyswithonehandandmyphonedingsinmypocket.
PrinceFrancisrubshimselfonherleg,andshebendstogivehimanaffectionatescratchunderhischin.“Itwasreallygreattomeetyou.”Sheaddressesthecat,thenturnsherattentiontome,hersmiledropping.“IlookforwardtoworkingwithPrinceFrancisandseeingifwecan’tgetahandleonhisbehavior.”
Iwalkheroutandstifleanothersneeze.
“Blessmew,”Kittymurmurs,ormaybeshesaid“blessyou”andImisheardher.
“Thanks.Sorryabouttacklingyouearlier.”Idon’tknowwhyIcan’tleavethatembarrassingmomentinthepastinsteadofdraggingitforwardwithus.
“You’readogperson.Ishould’vewarnedyou.”Sheadjustsherglasses.“It’sbetterthanbeingtackledbyafour-leggedfurballwhowantstolickyourfacewiththesametongueitlicksitsprivateswith.”Herexpressionpinches.“I’mgoingtogonow.Ithinkmyconversationskillshavebeentestedenoughtoday.Don’tforgettoemailmebackwithasmuchinformationasyoucangetfromyourmother.”Shenearlyfallsdownthefrontstepsinherrushtogettohercar.
IgobackinsidesoIdon’tembarrasseitherofusanyfurtherandfindPrinceFrancissittingonthewindowsill.HeyowlsforlornlyasKittyapproachesherSUV.TheKittyWhispereriswrittenonthesideinfancycursive.Thei’sinkittyandwhispereraredottedwithheart-shapedcatheads,thegrillhaswhiskers,andthefrontoftheSUVhasadecalwrapthatmakesitlooklikeacatface.
WhenKittydisappearsinsidethecar,PrinceFrancislooksupatmeaccusinglyandmeowsloudly.
“Don’tworry,ballsack.”Istifleanothersneeze.“She’llbeback.”
Hemeowsagain.
“Andhopefullyyou’llgetyourregularhumanbacksoon,too.”chapterfourTHEROUTINESWELOVEKitty
OnthewayhomefrommeetingMilesthegrumpandPrinceFrancistheadorableandregalsphynx,IstopatKat’sCatCafé.KatandIhavebeenfriendssinceninthgrade.WemetonthefirstdayofschoolinourEnglishclass.Wecomparedschedulesandrealizedwehadallbutoneclasstogether,andsincethenwe’vebasicallybeeninseparable.
Twoyearsaftershegraduatedfromcollege,sheopenedKat’sCatCafé,whichisexactlywhatitsoundslike.Acaféfullofadorablerescuecats,mostofwhichareavailableforadoption.Youcangrabacoffeeoricybeverage(inacoveredcup,becausethereisanincredibleamountoffurintheair)andhangoutwithcats.
IhaveadeskinherofficeinthebackwhereItakecareofpaperworkformybusinessandhelpKatmanageinventoryandordersuppliesforthecafé.
Ipark,popthetrunkonmySUV,andretrievethebagofoldtowelsIpickedupoverthelastweekfromclients,aswellasabagofnewpromotionalitems.It’spartofwhatIdoinexchangefortheofficespace.Towelsareoneitemtheycannevergetenoughof,alongwithscrappiecesofcarpettheycanusetorefurbishscratchingposts.
IfindKatsittingatoneofthetables,herlaptopproppedinfrontofher,andatabbycurledupinherlap.Anothercatsitsonherhand,underwhichI’massumingisamouse—thekindyouuseforacomputer,notatoyorrealone.
OntheothersideofthecaféareMerylandLouie,anelderlycouplewholiveintheretirementapartmentsafewblocksover.They’renotabletohaveacatoftheirownanymore,sotheycomeherealmosteveryeveningforteaandasnugglewithakitty.ImurmurhellotoafewoftheotherregularsscatteredaroundthecaféasImakemywaytoKat.Shewaveswiththehandthatisn’tunderacatbutt.“Hey!Iwasn’tsureifyou’dbeintoday.How’dthatmeetinggowiththeMattguy?Isthecatacutie?”
Islideintotheseatacrossfromherandsetthebagoftowelsonthefloor.Paws,Horace,andTux,threeofthecatswholiveatthecaféfulltime,checkoutthecontentsbytryingtoclimbinsidethebag.“HisnameisMiles.Thecatisanadorablesphynx,andmischievous.Thehumanisadogperson.”Isayitlikeit’sabadwordandglancearound,makingsurenooneiswithinearshot,andlowermyvoice.“Hecomparedthecattoashavedballsack.”
Kat’smouthdropsopen.“Hedidnot!”
“Heinsultedthepoorbabysomanytimes.Imean,readthefreakingroom,dude.I’mclearlyacatlover.”Imotiontomyshirt.
Katgivesmeaknowinglook.“Whyaresomanydogpeopleanti-cat?”HerreactionmakesmefeelbetteraboutmyowntohisconstantdisdainforpoorPrinceFrancis.
“Idon’tknow.They’reequallyloveable,justfordifferentreasons.”MaybeI’mextradefensiveaboutPrinceFrancisbecauseIknowwhatitfeelsliketobejudgedsolelybymyappearance.I’velearnedtoembracemyquirkiness,butIdon’thaveaTefloncoating,andnotallthebarbsaimedatmeslideoffwithnoimpact.
Katrollshereyes.“Hesoundslikearealjerk.”
“Hismotherisinthehospital,sothatcouldbepartofthereasonhewassocrusty.”
“Oh,maybe.Butstill,thatsoundslikeanawfulfirstimpression.”Shetucksafewwaywardstrandsofhairbehindherear,thenshakesoutherhandandblowsouttwoquickbreaths,sendingafluffofcathairsfloatingtotheground.It’sahazardofthejob.Katispetite,withdarkhairandeyestomatch.ShegrewupinthePhilippines,butherfamilymovedtotheStateswhenshewasten.Hermotherisadoctor,andherfatherisanengineer.Theywereabitconfusedwhenshedecidedtoopenacatcafé,buteventuallytheyembracedherchosencareer.
“Yeah,itdefinitelywasn’tthebest,butthecatisacutie,andhe’stheoneI’llbedealingwiththemost,soI’mnottooworried.”Yet,anyway.Besides,thisisashort-termcaresituation.
“Mm,thehumanvariableisalwaysthething,isn’tit?”Katgivesmeasympatheticsmile.
Wespendthenexthalfhourmakingalistofherinventory.Becauseofmyrobustsocialmediafollowing,Ihaveafewsponsorswhoprovidefreepetsuppliesinexchangeforproductplacementinvideos.It’shelpfulforkeepingcostsdown,andIpassontheperkstoKat,withtheapprovalofthesponsors,ofcourse.
Itakeafewvideoswhilewetestoutthepromotionalitems.I’lleditthemlater,athome,andthenuploadthemtooursocialmediaaccountslaterintheweek.“Weneedtofindanighttogooutfordinnerorsomethingnon–work-related,”Isayoncewe’refinishedwiththefilmingandtheinventoryorder.
“Agreed.Maybewecanplansomethingnextweek?”
“Weshouldprobablyscheduleitifwewantittohappen,sincewe’vebeensayingthisexactsamethingeverytimeweseeeachotherforthepastmonth.”Iflipovertomycalendarinmyphone.
“Goodcall.”Katdoesthesame,andTuxheadbuttsthedevice,clearlywantingherattention.
“WhataboutThursday?I’mdoneatfive.”
Kat’seyeslightup.“Iactuallyhaveadate.”
“What?Sincewhen?WhyisthisthefirstI’mhearingofit?”
“Itjusthappenedtoday.Heworksatthepetstoreafewblocksover.I’vetoldyouabouthimbefore.HisnameisBrad.Ihadtograbsomeemergencycattreatsbecauseweranout.”
“Oh,Iremember.Whoaskedwhoout?”Kathasbeencrushingonhimforawhile.Enoughthatshestopstheretobuyslightlyoverpricedcattreatsonasemi-regularbasis,hopingtorunintohim.
“Heaskedme.”
Herblushmakesmegrin.“Well,wedefinitelyneedalunchordinnerorcoffeedateafteryouractualdatesoIcangetallthedetails.”
Wemakeatentativeplantohavelunchorcoffee,dependingontimeconstraints.Bothofourschedulesareprettyfull,butadateisexciting.
Igathermythings,andKatpullsmeintoahug,transferringtabbyfurontomyshirtandcardigan.It’sthereasonwebothcarrylintrollersinourpursesatalltimes.
It’sclosinginoneightbythetimeIgethomefromthecafé.Bothmymom’sandmysister’scarsarealreadyinthedriveway,whichisn’tasurprise.Mymomdoesn’tusuallygoanywhereintheevenings,andmysister,Hattie,isinherfinalyearofcollege.She’stypicallyhomeatthistimeofnight,unlessshehasaneveningclassorastudygroup.I’mtoobusyrunningmybusinesstohavemuchofasociallife.IthelpsthatKatisalsointhecatbusiness;otherwise,wewouldn’tseeeachothernearlyasmuch.
Iopenthefrontdoorandcallout,“Hello!I’mhome!”
“Hi,KittyKat!I’mwatchingTwoandaHalfMen,andHattie’sinherroomworkingonanessay,Ithink,”mymomcallsout.
Itoeoffmyshoes,leavemypursebythestairs,andfollowhervoicetothelivingroom.
Ifindmymomsittingwhereshealwaysisatthistimeofday:inmydad’soldlounger.It’sbeatupandthreadbare,andthefootrestsometimesgetsstuckintheupposition,butit’sfullofmemories,sowekeepit.Ican’timaginewhatthisroomwouldlooklikewithoutit.
Everynightafterdinnertheroutineisthesame.Wewashdishesandcleanupthekitchen.IfIhavepaperworkorsocialmediapoststomanage,I’lljoinmymominthelivingroom,whileshewatchesrerunsofDad’sfavoriteTVshows.It’sbeenlikethiseversincehediedadecadeago.Andbeforethat,whenhewasalive,Iwouldbringmyhomeworktothelivingroom,setupaTVtray,andworkonitwhilehewatchedTVandmymomworkedonthewordgamesinthenewspaper.
Shepausestheshow,stoppingitinthemiddleofalaughtrack.“Haveyouhaddinneryet?Imadelasagna.Thereareleftoversinthefridge.”
“Thanks.I’llheatupapiece.”
“There’ssomesaladtoo.It’sCaesar,sohopefullyit’snottoowilted.It’sbeenacoupleofhours,though.”Shefrownsforamomentbeforehermouthtipsupintoasmile.“Howaboutyoubringitinhere,andwecancatchuponyourdayduringthecommercialbreaks?”
Theshowsarerecordedandstillincludeallthecommercials.They’reathrowbacktomyteenageyearsandthetimebeforeourliveswerechangedbyloss
“I’mabitfuzzy,soI’lljumpintheshowerandthencomejoinyou.”EventuallyIplantogetmyownplace,butfornowthere’scomfortinthepredictabilityofroutine.
“Perfect.”ShereturnsherattentiontotheTV.
ImouththejokeI’veheardamilliontimesasImakemywayupstairs,asmileonmyface.Ihearlowmusiccomingfrommysister’sroomasIpass,soIknock.
“Comein!”shecallsout.
Ipeekmyheadinthedoor.Herroomisdecoratedmuchlikeonewouldexpectfromacollegestudent.Onewalliscoveredinmovieandbandposters,anotherhasawhiteboard-corkboardcombinationaffixedtoit.Overherdeskarefourpeelablewallcalendars,herassignmentscolor-codedforeachclassandmarkedbyduedate.Herdoublebedsitsinthecorner,piledwiththrowpillowsthatcomplementthedarkbluecomforter.Theonlyremnantofherchildhoodisherstuffedcat,Pumpkin,whichwasabirthdaypresentfromourdad,giventohertheyearbeforehedied.
Hattie’slonghairisthesameasmine,thickandwavy,butit’sadarkchestnutbrowninsteadofauburn.Andlikeme,sheoftenwearsitupinaponytail.Butthat’swhereoursimilaritiesend.WhileI’msofter,likeourmom,Hattieistallandlean,withstrikingfeatures.Somehowshealwaysmanagestolookputtogether,eveninapairofrattysweatpants.
Shespinsaroundinhercomputerchairandstretchesherarmsoutandoverherhead,yawningwidely.Sheslapsahandoverhermouth.“Yeesh.Sorryaboutthat.”Sheglancesattheclockonhernightstand.“You’regettinginlate.”Hereyeslightup.“Didyouhaveahotdate?”
Irollmyeyesandmotiontomyoutfit.“Doesthislooklikedate-appropriateattire?”
Sheshrugs.“Notreally,butyouneverknow.Leopardprintisalltherage.Workinglatethen?”
Ileanagainstherdoorjamb.“Ihadtomeetanewcatandhishuman.”
Shemakesadisappointedfaceandmotionstoherdesk,whichisstackedwithbooks.“Oneofusneedsasociallife,andI’mtoobusywithschoolfordating,whichmeansyouneedtostepuptotheplate.”
Thisisafrequentconversationthatdoesn’tchange.I’mbusyrunningabusiness,andshe’sbusywithclasses.Icrossoverandsitdownontheedgeofherbed,pickingupPumpkin.Irunmyfingersoverthesatinontheinsideofhisear,wornwithtimeandlove.“ThelastcoupleofguysI’vedatedhaven’texactlymademewanttojumpbackintothedatingpool.”
“AreyoutakingaboutMicrodickMickorthebasementgamer?”
“Both.”Igrimace.“Andlet’sneversayMick’snamealoudagain.”
Wewentoutonahandfulofdatesaboutsixmonthsago.Hewasnicetolookat,andI’membarrassedtoadmitthatIsufferedthroughafewextradateshopingthattheconversationwouldimprove.I’mevenmoreembarrassedtoadmitthatIendedupbackathishousehopingthatthechemistrywasbetterthantheconversation.Unfortunately,hehadthefinesseofahornyteenageboy,and,well…itdidn’tgetbetterfromthere.Needlesstosay,thatwastheendofMick.
“Sorry,Ishouldn’thavebroughthimup.Iknowthatwholesituationwasprettytraumatic.”
“HencethereasonI’mnotallthatkeentogetbackonthehorseandride.”Ipointafingerather.“Imeanthatfigurativelyandmetaphorically.Also,you’retheoneincollege,which,ifyouwereunaware,isfullofsinglepeoplelookingforadate.”
“Guysincollegeareimmature.”Sheflipsapenbetweenherfingers.“Andgoingtoakegpartyisnotmyideaofadate.I’mhopingthatonceI’moutintherealworldI’llmeetsomeonewithanactualjobandlifegoalsthatextendbeyondlevelingupinGenshunImpact.”
“Idon’tknowhowmuchthatchangesaftercollege.”
TheguyIdatedafterHeWhoShallNotBeNamedwasaprimeexampleofthat.WhenIarrivedathishousetopickhimupforourseconddate,hismotheransweredthedoorandbasicallybeggedmetoneverdumpherson.Thenshetookmedowntohisapartmentinthebasement.Itsmelledlikefeetandcheese,lookedlikeithadn’tbeencleanedin..
Iturnedaroundandwalkedrightbackupthosestairs.Ilaterfoundoutthathismotherwastheonewhosetupandmonitoredhisprofile.Andthathespentninetypercentofhistimeplayingvideogamesandtheothertenpercentsleeping.
ItwasthelasttimeIusedanonlinedatingapp.
InodtoHattie’scomputerscreen.“Whatareyouworkingon?”
“Anessayforoneofmyclasses.It’sonthedryside,butifyoudon’tmindlookingitoverlaterandgivingittheredpentreatment,Iwouldbesupergrateful.Thisprofessorisasticklerforgrammarandannotations,soIwanttomakesureit’singoodshape.”
“Icanabsolutelyhavealook.Justtellmewhenyou’reready,andI’llgetoutmytrustyredpenforyou.”
“IsMomwatchingTV?”Hattie’sexpressionshifts,andforamomentshelookssad.
“Yup.I’mgoingtoshowerandthenjoinher,butIcanworkonyouressaywhilesheandIhangout.”
“Idon’tknowhowyoucanhandlewatchingthesameshowsallthetime.”
Ipushupoffthebed.“It’sbackgroundnoise.”
Shesighs.“Iguess,butyou’dthinkatsomepointshe’dwantsomevariety.Ifeellikewe’reallkindofstuckinthislooponrepeat.”
IsqueezeHattie’sshoulder,awarethatwefeeldifferentlyaboutthis.Imakeajoketodefusehersadness.“MaybewhenBlu-rayplayersareobsolete.”
Sherollshereyes.“IcanjustseeherscouringeBayforalltheoldonesandhoardingthem.”
“I’mcatsittingforasemi-hoardernow.”Ichangethesubjectbecausethisconversationaboutourmomalwaysmakesmeuneasy.
“Whatdoyoumeansemi-hoarder?Ididn’trealizetherewasanin-between.”
“It’smore…alotofclutter.Orcollectionsofthings.YouknowthoseporcelaindollsGrandmaHartusedtocollect?”
Hattiemakesafaceandshudders.“Thedresserinthespareroomwasalwaysfullofthem.Itfeltliketheywerewatchingmesleep.”
“Youalwaysendedupinbedwithmewhenwehadtostaythere.”Ismilefondlyatthememory.
“Andyoumadeussleepfoottohead.”Hertoneislacedwithaccusation.
“Soyouwouldn’tbreatheinmyface.Itwasatwinbed.Therewasn’tmuchroom,andyoumovearoundalot.Afootinthefaceisbetterthanyoubreathingdirectlyupmynose.”Hattieisalsoacuddler,soshewasalwaysbasicallypressedagainstme.
“Whatever.So,moreaboutthissemi-hoarder.”Shemakesago-onmotion.
“Thehouseisfullofknickknacks,andthecatlikestoknockthemonthefloor.Itmakestheclutterthatmuchmorecluttery.”
“Sokindofliketheinsideofyourpurse?”Hattiearchesabrow.
ConsideringthenumberofpensandlipbalmsthatendeduponMiles’smom’sdriveway,it’shardtoargue,butIdefendmyselfanyway.“Worsethanmypursebyalongshot.”
Shenarrowsoneeyeatme.“You’reblushing.Why?Whathappened?”
“Nothing.”Ibitemylipstogether
“Somethinghappened.Wasitthenewcatandtheirhuman?”Hereyeslightup.“Isthehumanaguy?Acuteguy?”
“Itdoesn’tmatterifhe’scute.He’sajerk,andourintroductionwasthekindofembarrassmentyoudon’treallyrecoverfrom.”Especiallywhenmytrippingwasfollowedbyhiminsultinghismother’scatandtacklingmetothefloor.
“Embarrassinghow?”Shegrabsmyhandandpushesmebacktowardthebed.“Youneedtospillit.Yourfacetellsmethere’sastory.”
Iblowoutabreath,awareshe’llbarricademeinherroomuntilIspillthebeans.“Rememberyourfirstdayofhighschool,whenItrippedupthestepsinfrontoftheentirefootballteambetweenfirstandsecondperiod?”
Hattie’seyesgowideandhercheekstintwithsecondhandembarrassment.Asitis,thememorymakesmewanttocrawlunderablanketforever.“Pleasetellmethiscat’shumanwasn’toneofthosefootballplayers.”
IhugPumpkintomychest.“No.Thankcatness.”Ineverliveddownthatmoment.Notfortherestofmyhighschoolcareer.EverytimeIsawoneofthoseguysinthehall,myfacewouldburstintoflames.Thankfully,mylonghairwasabletoactasashieldandaveil,butitdidn’tstopmefromhearingtheirsnickersandlittlejabs.“ButIdidtripoverthecurbandfallflatonmyface.”
“Ohno.I’msosorry.Diditgetbetterafterthat?Washeatleastniceaboutit?Didhehelpyouup?”
“Eventually.Sortof.Butthenheruineditallbybeingadogperson.”Ipursemylips;hisdisdainforPrinceFrancisisgratingonme.“Andthenhetackledme,sothewholehelpingmeupwaskindofwipedoutbythat.”
“Whyintheworldwouldhetackleyou?”
Igivehertheabridgedversion.“YouseewhatImean,though?He’sdefinitelynotacatperson.Youknowhowdifferentdogsarethancats.Dogswantyourapproval;catswantyoursubmission.”
Hattiechuckles.“Thatisthetruth.Toobadaboutthecutiehumanbeingajerk.Maybehewasjusthavinganoffday?”
“Maybe,buthewaslobbinganawfullotofnastynamesatthepoorcat.”Notthatitmatters.Iwon’thavetodealwiththecathaterforlong.
IleaveHattietofinishheressaywhileIwashawayadayofcats,thenheatupsomedinner.Thesaladiswilted,butnotsobadthatit’sinedible.Igrabaglassofwaterandheadtothelivingroom,whereaTVtrayhasalreadybeensetupformeonthecouchnexttothechair.
“Perfecttiming—thecommercialsjustcameon.Tellmeallaboutyourday.”Momlowersthevolume,andIhaveherundividedattentionfortwofullminutesbeforetheshowresumes.IgivehertheCliffsNotesversionofmyday,omittingMiles,becauseanytimeImentionamanwhomightbeinmyagerange,Momautomaticallyassumeshe’sdateable.AndMiles,whilenicetolookat,doesnothavethepersonalitytomatch.
Shehmmsandsaysthat’sniceinalltherightplaces,thenwegobacktowatchingTwoandaHalfMenassoonasthecommercialsend.Myheartacheswhenoneofmydad’sfavoritecheesyjokescomesthroughtheTV,mymomrecitingthepunchlinealongwiththecharacter,andwebothchucklealongwiththelaughtrack.
Ieatmydinner,waitingforthenextcommercialbreakbeforeIaskaboutherday.Attenweswitchtonews,andIworkoneditingHattie’sessaywhilethenewscastersimparttoday’stragedies.BythetimeI’mdonegivingtheessaytheredpentreatment,it’saftereleven.
Ihaveanearlystarttomorrow,soIgetreadyforbed.IwaituntilI’msnuggledundermycoversbeforeIcheckfornewmessages.Mycomforterisaquiltwithacatprintonit,obviously.
I’msurprisedtofindseveralfromMiles.
Miles:HiKitty.Sorrythisissolate,andI’msorryagainabouttacklingyou.I’mhonestlynotinthehabitofknockingoverwomenwithwaterguns.Realonesmaybe.Situationallydependent.
Miles:[Cringefacegif]
Miles:[footballtacklegif]
Miles:Maybetoosoonforthetacklegif?Ican’tunsendthat.
Miles:I’veemailedinfoaboutPF’sschedule.Mymotherwasn’tinthemoodtodiscusshisneeds,butI’vecobbledtogetherwhatIknow,whichisnotmuch.I’llbeintouchlaterthisweek,andyoucanalwaysreachmeatthisnumber.IhopePFisonhisbestbehavior,butI’munsurewhatthatlookslike,oriftossingtrinketsoffshelvesishisjam.Signingoffbeforethisbecomesanactualnovel.~Miles
Ilieinbed,frowningasIreadthetextmessagesthroughtwicemore.ThethingabouttextmessagesisthatIcan’treadthetone.Hecouldbeapologizingonlybecauseheneedsmyhelp.Ihavearugburnonmycheek.
I’malsoirritatedbytheslightlyendearingqualityofhismessages.ButI’mprobablyreadingtoomuchintotheapology.Ifhewasagrandpawhotackledme,wouldIhavetakenthejob?I’mevenmoreirritatedbythefactthattheanswertothatisprobablyno.Ilethisprettyveneerinfluencemydecision.Andhe’sadogpersonwhodoesn’tlikecatstoboot.Wemightaswellbefromdifferentplanets.
Imoveontomyemailandreadovertheonehesentme.Hewasn’tkiddingabouttheinformationbeingscant.MostofthequestionsIsenthimhavethe“Idon’tknow”emojiattachedtothem.Idonotwanttofindthatcute.
WhathedoesknowisthatPrinceFrancislovesbaconandcerealmarshmallows—soodd—hangingoutonalap,andwetfoodoverdry,andwhenhe’sreallymad,apparentlyhe’llpoopinshoes.It’sgoodinformation,evenifthereisn’talotofit.I’llbeabletofigureouttherestasIgo.
Ibarelyresisttheurgetosendhimacutecatgifinresponse,whichheprobablywon’tappreciateanyway,andinsteadgowith:
Kitty:UsuallywhenIgettackled,it’sbymyneighbor’sgiantSaintBernard.Ontheupside,atleastyoudidn’tlickmyface.
Isetmyphoneonthenightstandandclosemyeyes.Irolltomyrightside,thencringeathowsoremyelbowis.Frombeingtackled.Ugh,stupid,prettycat-hatingdoglover.chapterfiveKITTYMAGICKitty
ThursdaymorningIwakeupfromanincrediblyweirddream.Init,I’mdressedinfootballgear,completewithhelmet,andI’mapparentlyplayingdefense.Idon’treallywatchmuchinthewayofsports,apartfromtheoccasionalhockeygameonTVwithmydadwhenhewasstillhere.Whathorrifiesmeisthatthefootballhasthefaceofacat.AndthequarterbackfortheotherteamhappenstobeMiles.
Whenhetriestothrowthecat-ball,Itacklehimtotheground.Thegratificationquicklymorphstomortificationbecausewhenwehittheground,we’rebothnaked.Apartfromthehelmet.He’sstillwearingthat.Ishakeoffthedreamandgetreadyformyday.
Hattie’salreadyinthekitchen,slatheringbutterontoast.Sheslapsonsomeavocadoandtomatoslices,coversitwithanothersliceoftoast,andwrapsapapertowelaroundit.Shekissesmeonthecheek,givesMomahugfrombehind,andrushestothedoor.“I’llbehomefordinner.Textmeifyouneedmetopickanythingup.Loveyouboth.Bye!”
“Haveagooddayanddrivesafe!”Momsipshercoffeeandflipstotheobituarysectionofthenewspaper.It’samorbidwaytostartthemorning,butit’spartofherroutine.
“EggandcheeseonanEnglishmuffin?”IaskasIpourmyselfacupofcoffee.Wetaketurnsmakingbreakfastforeachother.
“I’measy.Whateverworksforyou.”Momsmiles,butherfocusisonthepaper.
Itonlytakesafewminutestogetbreakfastreadyandbringittothetable.Thechairthatmydadusedtositinisalwayssetwithaplacemat,andhisfavoritemugsitsemptyinthecenter.SometimesIwonderifit’sbecomesuchaningrainedpartofherroutinethatshedoesn’tevenrealizeshestilldoesit.
“Doyouhaveabusyday?”sheasksconversationally,settingthepaperasidesoshecaneat.
“Justmyusualrounds,plusthatnewclientIpickedup,butI’llbehomeearlyenoughtohelpwithdinner.Ineedtodoaninventorychecklater,soIcanmakespaceinthegarage.”It’swhereIkeepmostofmycat-sittingsupplies.It’salsowhereallthesponsorshipoverflowitemsarestored.AtthispointI’vefilledtheentiregarageandpartofthebasement.
“Space?”Momperksup.
“Ihaveanewordercomingin.”
“Oh.”Shedeflates.“Willyouneedhelpwiththat?Doweneedmoreshelvesinthere?”
“Ishouldrentastorageunit.”WhenIstartedtheKittyWhispererfouryearsago,Iassumeditwouldbemysidehustle,notmyfull-timejob.Andforawhileitwasapart-timething.Ialsoworkedinanoffice,organizingschedules.Itwasnotrivetingwork.WhenitseemedlikeIwasgoingtohavetoeitherstepintooneroleortheother,Imadethedecisiontogooutonmyown.AndnowhereIam,runningmyownbusiness.Ineverexpectedtomakeanactualliving.Ortobasicallytakeoverpartofmymom’shouse,andthat’swithmyofficespacebeingatKat’s.
Momwavesahandaroundintheair.“Youdon’tneedtodothat.Wehavethespace.”
“It’dbeniceifyoucouldparkyourcarinthegarageinthewinter,though.”Especiallywhentherearethreevehiclestopushsnowoffandmovearoundwhenthere’sastorm.Thegaragewassupposedtobeatemporaryhomeformybusinesssupplies.
“Eh,I’vesurvivedthislong.What’sacouplemoreyears?”Shepatsmyhandandtakesanotherbiteofhersandwich.“Thisisgreat,bytheway.”
“I’mgladyoulikeit.”Ifocusonmyownsandwichforamoment,mullingoverthatlastcommentaboutacouplemoreyears.Ishouldn’treadintothat.I’minmymidtwenties.Idon’tintendtoliveathomeforever,butitseemslikeI’mbeinggivenatimeline.Twoyearsisn’tunreasonable,soI’mnotsurewhyhercommentunsettlesme.
Wefinishbreakfast,andIloadthedishwasherwhileshewashesthepans.AndthenI’mofftoseemyfirstfour-leggedfurballoftheday.
Bumblesisastripedtabbywithascrunched-upfaceandaslightlysurlydemeanor.He’sthecatversionofMiles.Hisownerisanelderlymanwhohasseverecataractsandonlypartialvision,soIstopbyonaregularbasistohelptendtoBumbles’sneeds.
IringthedoorbellandwaitforMr.O’Tooletoopenthedoor.Itoftentakesafewminutesforthattohappen.IcheckmymessagesandfindIhaveanewonefromMiles.
Idon’tlovethesillyflutteryfeelinginmystomach.Asaresult,Iholdoffoncheckingit.I’mabouttoringthedoorbellasecondtime,worriedaboutthepossibilitythatMr.O’Toolehaslosthishearingaidsagain,orworse.He’sninety.
Thetoughpartaboutworkingwithalotofelderlypeopleisthattheyoccasionallyhaveaccidents.I’veyettobetheonetofindaclientinaseriousstate,thankfully,butI’vebeenonthereceivingendofafewsadphonecalls.Thosearealwayshardtohandle.WhileIspendthemosttimewiththeirpets,Istillgettoknowtheirownersandweshareaspecialbondbecauseofourcatlove.
Thankfully,thefrontdoorswingsopen.“Icouldn’tfindmypants!”Mr.O’Tooleshouts.“Ormyrighthearingaid!”
EventhoughItrytokeepmygazefixedonthebaldspotontopofhishead,mygazedips.Thescreendoorseparatesus,creatingahazeandsemi-barrierbetweenmeandMr.O’Toole,butIcanveryclearlyseethatthepantssituationisstillaproblem.He’swearingalonggraybutton-downthatwasprobablyoncewhitebutgotmixedinwithsomethingdarkandatweedjacket,asiscustomaryforMr.O’Toole.Hisboxershortsarenavy.Oneofhiswhitesocksstopsjustunderhisknee,andtheotheroneslouchesaroundhisankle.He’swearinggrayslippers.
“ShallIhelpyoufindthem?”Thisisn’tafirst.
“Thatwouldbegreat,MissKitty.Onesecondtheywereinmyhand,andthenexttheyweregone.It’slikeaghostupandstolethem.”Hethrowshishandsintheair,hisbushyeyebrowsshootingupandthenpullingtogether,resemblingtwocaterpillarsdancingonhisforehead.
Heopensthescreendoorandshufflesbackafewstepstoletmein.Thehousesmellslikeacombinationofmothballs,catlitter,andcookedonions.Notthemostappealing,butitcertainlycouldbeworse.
Bumbles,hisstripedtabby,comeslumberingthroughthekitchen,meowingloudly.Muchlikehisowner,he’sancient,andalsonotafastmover.Buthetrieshishardesttorun,despitebeingalmostasroundasheistall.I’vetriedtoexplaintoMr.O’Toolethatheshouldn’tfeedBumblespeoplefood,buthesaysit’soneoftheonlygoodthingsleftinlife,sowhyshouldeitherofthemsuffer.
Hehasapoint.
“Howismyfavoritestripedtabby?”Icrouchandholdoutahand.Bumblesrubshisfaceonmyhand,givesmealittlenip—that’shissurlysidecomingout—thenbumpsagainstmykneeandheadbuttsmythighonhiswaytomypocket.Hedoesanabout-faceandrush-bumblesbacktothekitchen.AdigitalBritishaccentcallsout“Treat”severaltimesinarow.
TohelpMr.O’Toole,I’vebeenteachingBumblestousecommunicationbuttons.Sofarwehavetreats,outside,andpets.Thetreatbuttonisunsurprisinglyhisfavorite.
“Goodboy,Bumbles!”Icallout.
Hetrotsbacktowherewe’restillstandinginthefronthall,meowingwithzeal.Ipluckatreatfrommypocket,andhegobblesitup,thenheadsforthekitchenagain.
“We’llfigureoutthepantssituationbeforewedealwithBumbles,shallwe?”
“He’sbeenhittingbuttonsallmorning.Iranrightoutoftreats,”Mr.O’Toolegrumbles.
Itdoesn’ttakemelongtofindhispants.They’reslungovertherailingonthestaircase.
Mr.O’Tooledisappearsdownthehalltohisbedroomtofinishgettingdressed,andIfeedBumblesandcleanhislitterbox.
WhenIreturn,IfindMr.O’Tooleinthekitchenwithhispantson.Oneofhisshirttailshangsoutfromtheback,andhisflyisdown,butit’sanupgradefrombeingpantsless.
Iagreetoacupoftea,althoughIwon’tbedrinkingit,sinceMr.O’Tooleisafrugalmanandreusesthesameteabagatleastfourorfivetimesbeforehethrowsitout.Regardless,Isitwithhimonthefrontporch,andwechatwhileIbrushBumblestohelpcutdownonhishairballproblem.
“Whataboutaboyfriend,MissKitty?Anyyoungmenlookingtocourtyou?”
Ismileathisphrasing.Mr.O’ToolegrewupduringtheSecondWorldWarandmarriedhishighschoolsweetheart.Shepassedawayadecadeago,andjustlastyearhestarted“courting”oneoftheotherladiesintheneighborhood,whohecallsa“springchicken”comparedtohim.She’seighty-two.
“Noboyfriend.Workkeepsmebusy.”
“You’retooyoungtobeworkingthishard.HaveImentionedthatIhaveagreat-grandsonintheNHL?He’sabityoungforyouyet,butgivehimafewyearstocatchup.”
“Youhavementionedyourgreat-grandson.Hejustgraduatedfromhighschoollastyear,didn’the?”Mr.O’Tooletellsmeabouthisgreat-grandsoneverytimeIvisit.
“Thathedid.Gotsnappedupbytheleaguejustlikethat.”HesnapshisfingersandstartlesBumbles.“He’ssowinghisoatsrightnow,buteventuallyhe’llbereadytosettledownwithanicegirllikeyou.Butbythetimethathappensyou’llprobablyhavefoundyourselfahusband.”
“Onlytimewilltell,Isuppose.”Ichuckleandchangethesubject.“Oh!Itookonanewclientthisweek.PrinceFrancisisasphynxcat.”
“Asphynxcat,yousay.Thosearethenakedones,aren’tthey?”
Ichuckle.“That’sright,he’shairless.”
“Can’tsayI’dlovewanderingaroundinmybirthdaysuitallthetime,butIguesshe’salotlesslikelytobecoughinguphairballs.”Heslurpshisteanoisily.
Wechatforawhilelonger,untilI’vemanagedtocomboutenoughfurtomakeawholeflockofbirdscomfortablenests,andthenItellMr.O’ToolethatIhavetogovisitwithmynextclient.
Itakemyteacuptothekitchenanddumpitdownthedrain,thenremindhimthathecanturnofftheTreatsbuttonifBumblesisusingittoomuch.AndthenI’mofftoseePrinceFrancis.
WhenIgettothehouse,IrealizeIdon’thaveakey.I’mabouttomessageMiles,butIfindhe’sbeatenmetoit.
Miles:keyisunderthedyingplantandtunamightbePF’sfavefood.
Icomposeathank-youmessagethreetimesbeforefinallyerasingtheentirethingandsendingathumbs-upemojiinstead.
Iopenthedoorcautiously,incasePrinceFrancisiswaitingclosebywiththeintentionofbolting.Butapartfromthestackofunopenedmailonthefloor,thehallwayisempty.“Hello,PrinceFrancis,it’sKitty!I’vecometoloveyou!”
SilencefollowsasIflickonthelightandclosethedoor.ThefirstthingInoticeisthatthehorribleporcelaindollsarenolongerstaringattheentrywaybecausethey’relyingontopofeachother.Oneofthemisonthefloor,facedown.
“Uh-oh,PrinceFrancis,haveyoubeenuptonogood?”Icrossoverandpickthedollup,unsureifI’mrelievedthatthefaceisn’tshattered.Isetitbackonthesideboardandcontinuetothelivingroom.
It’sasifMileshadn’tsweptupthefloordebrisatallyesterday.Belowthetwoshelvingunitsflankingthefireplacearenewpilesoffallenitems.Iscanthem,andthefireplacemantel,whichisnowmissingseveralgnomes,butIdon’tspotPrinceFrancisanywhere
Icheckbehindthecouch,sinceit’sago-tohidingspotforbadlybehavedkitties.
ButInoticethecurtainsshiftacrosstheroom.Ialsonote,forthefirsttime,thatthey’renotinthebestshape.Therearepullsalongthebottom,asuresignthatPrinceFrancishasbeenusingthemasascratchingpostoraladder.Ifollowthelineofthecurtainallthewaytotherodthatstopsaboutafootfromtheceiling.
Andthereheis,perchedlikeanangry,adorablegargoyleontopoftherod,staringdownatme.
“Hello,PrinceFrancis!DidIscareyou?”
Hestaresbackatme,stillasastatue.
“Wouldyouliketocomedownandhaveatreat?”IpullthesmallbaggieIcarrywithmefrommypocket—incaseofemergencyorcutenessoverload—andshakeit.
Hisrightpawandeyetwitch,butstillnothing.
It’sastandoff.Well,aone-sidedone,anyway.
Andthebestwaytoenditistoignoretheculprit.Itakeaseatinthelounger,andaminutelaterhejumpsontothetableandpawsatthebagoftreatssittingthere.
Isetonebyhispawandgivehimascratchbehindtheearashegobblesitup.“Weneedtogetahandleonthisdestructivebehavior,PrinceFrancis.Yourmomwouldnotbeimpressedifsheknewwhatkindofshenanigansyouweregettinguptowhileshe’saway.”
Hepurrsandmakesasqueakysound,likeadogtoybeingchewed.Eventuallyheclimbsintomylap,andwespendagoodwhilesittingthere,mepettinghim,himpurring.It’sclearhe’susedtolotsofaffection,andwithhishumanaway,he’sfeelingabandoned.
It’sasymbioticexchangeofloveandcomfort.Andwhileinsomewaysit’sconditionalbecauseheknowsthere’sfoodattachedtomeandmywarmlapandmyaffection,it’snotthekindofconditionallovethathumansareguiltyof,thekindthatcanbreakaheart.Catloveisdifferent.Youknowyoubelongtothemwhentheychooseyou,nottheotherwayaround.It’saspecialkindofbond.
Andinsomeways,Icanunderstandwhycertainpeoplehaveaninclinationtowarddogsinsteadofcats.They’reforeverchildrenwhorequireloveandattention.Butwhenacatneedsyourlove,youknowyou’vebecometheirs.
IsnapaquickpictureandsendittoMilesalongwithashortmessage:
PrinceFrancisissoakingupthelove.
IwanttoshowhimthatPrinceFrancisisn’tanaughtygremlin.Thathehaslovetogiveifapersoniswillingtogivealittlethemself.
IhaveafeelingthatifIlethim,PrinceFranciswouldspendalldayinmylap,butIhaveotherfurryfriendstoattendto,soeventuallyIencouragehimtogetupsoIcanfeedhimproperlyandtakecareofthelittersituation,anotherthingIforgottoaskMilesabout.
OnceI’vefedPrinceFrancis—hehasspecialplatesofhisown—Igoinsearchofthelitterbox.Idon’tfinditanywhereonthemainfloor,soIgoupstairs.Theascentbringswithitaspikeofanxiety,alongwithold,painfulmemoriesItrynottoletfloattothesurface.Notentirelyrational,butItakeadeepbreathandremindmyselfthatthishouseisemptyapartfrommeandPrinceFrancis.AllIfindareafewknocked-overitemsinwhatappearstobethemasterbedroom.
Iheadbacktothemainfloor,stumped,untilIspotthecatdoorleadingtothebasement.OnceIopenit,IcansmellthatI’vehitthejackpot.Andnotinagoodway.IusemycardiganasabarrierbetweenmeandthehorribleodorthatgrowsprogressivelyworsethecloserIgettothebottomofthestairs
“Well,thismightexplainsomeofthedestruction,”Imutter,thengag,becauseI’mbreathinginnotjustthesmellofammonia,butalsoalotofcatdoody.PrinceFrancishastakenastand,hisirritationwithhisinadequatebathroomfacilitiesdottingthefloorinlittlepiles.
Heappearsbesidemeandplunkshisbuttdownonmyfootwithasqueak.
“It’sprettygrossdownhere,isn’tit?”Iask.
Helickshispaw.
Icringe,becauseI’mstandingonlitter.
ItakeaphotoofthesituationandsendittoMiles,irkedonceagainthathedidn’ttakecareofthisbeforeheleft.I’mnotentirelyconfidentI’llknowwheretofindtheextralitter,andIcan’tseeanythroughthetears,myeyesarewateringsobadly.
It’sneglectfultoleaveitlikethis,butI’malsoatriskofpassingoutfromthefumes,soIclimbthestairsandheadforthebackporch,gulpingdownfreshair.
I’msobusytryingtobreatheandshakethestinginginmynosethatIaccidentallysendapictureofmynostrilstoMiles.chaptersixALITTLEBITFASCINATEDMiles
I’msittingnexttoJosh,eatingbreakfastwiththeteam,whenmyphonepings.It’sinmybagbesidemyfoot,andeverytimeIgetanewmessageitsendsabuzzupmylegs.
Anotherbuzz.
“Isthatyourphone?”Joshasksandthenshovelsaforkfulofscrambledeggsintohismouth.
“Yeah.Kittyissupposedtocheckonmymother’scatthismorning.”Ireachintomybagtoseeifit’shertextingme.Ihopethathappenssoon,becausethemessagesfrommymomhavebeenrelentless,andapparentlysherequiresphotographicevidenceofPF’swell-beingbeforeshe’ssatisfied.Igetit,sortof.MyneighborswhoarewatchingWilfredwhileI’mawayhavealreadysentawholeslewofphotos,andIcan’tsayIdon’tappreciateit.
“IstillhaveahardtimebelievingthathercompanyiscalledtheKittyWhispererandhernameisalsoactuallyKitty.Istillthinkit’sagimmick,”Joshsays.
Ishrug.“Ifitis,it’saprettygoodone.”
Parker,who’ssittingacrossthetable,leansin.“Areyouguystalkingaboutthatwomanwhotrainscats?She’sgotasolidsocialmediafollowing.KittytheKittyWhisperer?”
“Yeah,that’stheone.Whatdoyouknowabouther?”Joshanswersforme.
“Shetakescareofmygreat-grandad’scat.He’sgotrealbadvision,andevenwithcataractsurgery,it’snotgettinganybetter.Buthelovesthatfreakingcat,soIhiredherafewmonthsbacktohelphimout,andnowshe’strainedBumblestotalk.”Heshovesanentirestripofbaconintohismouth,accordionstyle.
“Wait.What?Doyoumeanhemeowsandsoundslikehe’ssayingIloveyouorwhatever?”Iask.
Parkershakeshisheadandholdsupafinger,swallowingthebaconbeforehecontinues.“There’sthisdogonsocialmediawhousesallkindsofbuttonstocommunicate.Iknowthisbecausemysisterfollowsanimalaccountsandsendsmethereelsallthetime.Anyway,IguessthisKittywomanfiguredshecouldapplythesameprincipletocats,andnowBumbleshasthree.”Hegrabshisphoneandpullsupavideoofaveryroundcathittingabuttonthatsays“treat”repeatedlyinadigitalvoice.“Here’sthevideoshepostedlastweek.She’sprettycool.Kindahot,too.”
“Haveyoumether?”Idon’tknowwhythatideairksme.MaybebecauseParkerisawalkinghormone,andthefameofmakingtheNHL,coupledwiththeattentiononsocialmedia—particularlyfromwomen—isinflatinghisegoalittletooquickly.
Parkersetshisphonebackonthetableandshakeshishead.“Nah,butIwatchhervideossometimes.Haveyou?”Hisbrowquirksup.
“Yeah,yesterday.She’swatchingmymother’scatwhileI’maway.”Icringeastheimageoftacklinghertothefloorpopsintomyhead.IreallywishIcouldundothatevent.Ialsowishmybodywouldstophavinginappropriatereactionstothatmemory.It’sveryconflictingtohaveasemiovertacklinganoddbutattractivewomantothefloor.Overawatergun.
“Ohman,you’realluncomfortable.Yougotathingforher,don’tyou?”Parkergrinsandnodsknowingly,asifhe’sreadingmymind.
Iwipemydamppalmsonmypantsunderthetable.“Imetheronce,andshe’stakingcareofmymother’scat.”Asifthathasanybearingonherlevelofattractiveness.
“Yeah,butadmitit,she’sgotthatsexylibrarianvibegoingon.”
“Sexylibrarian?Really?”Joshgrabshisownphoneandpunchesatthescreenwithhisfinger.
“YouwerebrowsingherIGaccountwhenIcalledher,”Ipointout.
“Yeah,butIwasn’tpayingattentiontowhatshelookslike.”HeflipsthroughphotosuntilhereachesonewithKitty’sentirefaceintheshot,thencocksaknowingbrowatme.“Ohyeah,Parker’srightaboutthesexylibrarianthing.”
Ibrushofftheircomments.There’snowayI’madmittingIfindherattractive.OrthatherdisgruntlednesswithmewhenIwasad-bagisalsohot.“Whatshelookslikehasnobearingonherabilitytotakecareofacat.”
Parkerscoffsloudlyandmakesalewdcomment,andsuddenlyeveryoneisonmyassabouttheKittyWhisperer.
Iignoretheirjuvenilebehaviorandcheckmymessages.
Ihavetwofrommydadandavoicemail.Ihaven’ttoldhimMomisinthehospitalyet.Orthatthedoctorsthinkshehasearly-onsetdementia.Myparentsstartedafamilylaterinlife,butevenstill,she’sonlyinhermid-sixties.Theirrelationshiphasbeentrickysincetheydivorced.SomuchsothatmydadmovedbacktoBritishColumbia,wherehegrewup.Heneededtoescapethememories,andhehassiblingsoutthere.Idon’tblamehim.Theendoftheirrelationshipcameasaresultoftoomuchloss.Idon’tknowhowhe’sgoingtofeelaboutthenews,andwiththisnewjobandallmyownbaggage,Ijustdon’thavethebandwidthtotakeonhis,too.
Ileavemydad’smessagesunansweredandscrolltothenextones,whicharefromKitty.ThankGod.Becauseunderhersareonesfrommymom.
Kitty:Didyouknowaboutthislittersituation?!?
Kitty:Ididn’tmeantosendthatpictureofmynostrils.
Kitty:Iwastryingtoescapethesmellfromthepreviouspictureandsentitbyaccident.[pukingemoji]
Kitty:Doyouhaveanyideawhereyourmotherkeepsthefreshlitter?PrinceFrancisistakingastandagainsthiscurrentbathroomconditionsanditneedstobemanaged.
Ican’treadthetoneofhermessages,butIimagineshe’spissedbasedonthepunctuationattheendofthefirstmessage.Great.JustwhatIneed,anotherstrikeagainstme.
Iscrolluptothepicturethat’sbasicallyacloseupofhernoseandabitofchin,andcontinuetothepreviousimage.It’salitterbox,onethatneedstobechanged,likeaweekago,ifIhadtoguess.
Dogsalwaysdotheirbusinessoutside.Ididn’tevenconsidertheremightbealitterboxthatwouldneedtobechanged.AndnowI’veleftKittytodealwiththatdisgustingtask.Iwonderifshe’llchargememoreforthat.Probably.IwouldifIwereher.
Isendherabunchofemojis,includingthecringeyfaceoneandtheshruggingshoulders.
InthebackgroundtheguysarestilltalkingaboutKittyandherhotnesslevel.It’sanastoundinglyjuvenileconversation.
Anewgifappears—sheseemstobeafanofthese—anditannoysmeanirrationalamountthatit’sacutecattalkingonaphone.Amessagefollows:
Kitty:CanIcallyou?
Miles:sure
Aphoneconversationisprobablyeasierthantexting,andI’llbeabletogaugehowannoyedsheiswithmeandwhetherI’llneedtofindanotherkittywhispererwhenI’mbackinToronto.Twosecondslatermyphonerings.Which,forwhateverreason,Idon’texpect,eventhoughshejustaskedifshecould.Ihopupfromthetableandknockmychairoverintheprocess.Itclatterstothefloorwithabanganddrawsevenmoreattention,makingmyhastyexitimpossible.
AndbecauseParkerisyoung,andapparentlyajerk,heyells,“Whoyoutalkingto?IsthatKitty?Askherifshehasaboyfriendandifit’sserious.Andifshe’sinterestedinhothockeyplayerswithexcellentstamina.”
Irightmychairandshootaglarehisway,thenbustmyassawayfromthetable.“Hey.Hi.Hello.”Myconversationskillsandmycoordinationareclearlysufferingthismorning.
“Itsoundslikeyoumightbebusy.”Hervoiceisraspy.Sheclearsherthroatandsniffsonce.
“It’sfine.I’moutwiththeteam.”
“Theteam?”sheechoes.
“Yeah.I’madataanalystforToronto’sNHLteam.We’reoutforbreakfast.”
“Oh.Wow.That’s…youworkfortheNHL?”
“Yeah,behindthescenes,though,notaplayer.”Notthatsheneededtheclarification.I’mnotbuiltlikehockeyplayers.Wheretheyhavelegslikecentury-oldtreetrunks,minearemorelikeslightlymaturesaplings.
“Soyouworkwithnumbersandhockeyplayers?”Hervoicesoundsfaraway,orquiet.
“Inanutshell,yes.”It’sabitmoreinvolved,butonlypeoplewhodostatscanappreciatetheart.
“Thatsounds…interesting.”
Ican’ttellifshe’smockingme.Idon’tevenknowwhyIcare.She’smycatsitter,notsomeoneIshouldbetryingtoimpress.EventhoughforsomereasonthatseemstobewhatI’mdoing.“Yeah.Anyway,Idon’tthinkI’mgoingtobemuchhelpwiththelittersituation,sinceIdidn’tevenrealizeitwouldbeanissue.”
“Clearly,consideringthestateofthelitterbox.Myolfactorysensesaredecimatedthankstothat.”
Shedoesn’tlaugh,soI’mguessingthat’snotajoke.Maybeshe’sbeingoverdramaticaboutit.“Itcan’tbethatbad.”
Shehuffs;it’sanannoyedsound.“Ifitwasn’tneglectful,I’dleavethemesssoyouknowexactlyhowdisgustingitiswhenyou’reforcedtocleanitup.Haveyoueverbeentoasummermusicfestival?”
“Idon’tgetwhatthishastodowiththecatlittersituation.”Man,she’sseriouslyrampeduprightnow.
“Haveyoueverhadtouseoneofthoseportabletoiletsataconcert?”
“Sure.Yeah.”
“Thinkabouthowdisgustingtheyarebytheendoftheconcert.Especiallywithallthedrunkassholeswhopeeallovertheseatandleaveitforthenextperson.Nowmultiplythatbyaboutathousand,andyoumighthaveachanceatunderstandinghowdisgustingPrinceFrancis’sbathroomsituationis.”
“Comeon,Kitty.You’reexaggerating.”Igrimaceatmycondescendingtoneandmyfoot-in-mouthresponse.
“Youwouldsaythat.”Morehuffingonherend.“Intheinterestofmakingsurethisdoesn’thappenagain,I’dliketosetPrinceFrancisupwithanautomaticscooper.Igetapromotionaldiscount,whichI’llpassontoyou.”
“Whatdoessomethinglikethatcost?”I’daskwhatintheworldanautomaticscooperis,butshesoundsfrustratedwithmeasitas.
“Ithinkyoushouldaskwhatitwillsaveyou.Whichismequittingonyou.Thereallyhigh-qualityonesrunaboutsixorsevenhundred.”
“Dollars?That’sridiculous.Doesitcleanitselforsomething?”
“ItremoveswastesoPrinceFrancisdoesn’thavetosteparoundhisownpoop.Ifthat’stooexpensive,wecangowithabasicone,whichareaboutahundredandfiftydollarsandworkwellenough.”
“Foralitterbox?Yeesh.Thisisjustmoreproofthatdogsarebetterpets.Theirpoopbagscostalloffivebucksforarollofahundred.”
“WhyamInotsurprisedtohearthosewordscomingoutofyourmouth?IfIdidn’tcareaboutPrinceFrancisandhiswelfareIwouldquitrightnow.AndI’llneedtopickupthelittertogowithit.Andthatwillbeanotherhundredandtwenty,butit’llgiveyouatleasttwomonths’worthoflitteranditworksouttoabouttendollarsaweek.”
“Tenbucksaweekforlitter?Thatseemsinflated.I’veseenthosehugebagsatthepetstoreforthesameprice.”
“Thenon-clumpinglitterischeap.Thisisnotthat.Wouldyoubuyone-plytoiletpaperforyourbathroom?”
“He’safreakingcat.Helickshisowndamnballsandhisasshole.”
“Well,itwouldbealotnicerforPrinceFrancisifhedidn’thavetoalsolickstraylitteroutfrombetweenhistoebeans.”
Icanpracticallyseeherwithherhandonherhip,glaringangrilyatme.Whyintheworlddoesthatjackmeup?
“AfewhundreddollarstoupgradePrinceFrancis’sbathroomsituationandcurbhisdestructivetendenciesseemslikeaprettyreasonablepricetopay,don’tyouthink?”
“Man,catsarehellahighmaintenance.”
Shemakesanoisethatsoundsalotlikeagrowl.“Hopefullyoncethisissueistakencareof,hewon’tbeashardonyourmother’sdrapesorhertrinkets.”
Inodmyagreement,thenrealizeshecan’tseeme.
Parkerpokeshisheadoutintothefoyer.We’reinthehotel’sbuffetrestaurant,andI’mstandinginthelobby.“YoustilltalkingtoKittyWhisperer?”
Iputmyhandoverthereceiver.“Canyoufuckthehelloff?”
“Excuseme?I’mtryingtobehelpfulhere!KeepitupandI’llreportyouforimproperanimalcare!”Kittysoundsrightfullyindignant.
“Shit.Sorry.Don’treportme.Thatwasn’tdirectedatyou.Oneoftheplayersisgivingmethegears.Holdonasec.”Idon’tbothertocoverthereceiverthistime.“Parker,you’renotevennineteenyet.You’rebarelylegaltovote,youcan’tbuyalcoholhereoranywhereinCanadaexceptforQuebec,youstillthinkmakingfartnoiseswithyourarmpitisfunny,andyouonlyneedtoshaveyourfaceonceaweek.I’mnotgoingtoaskKittyifshe’sinterestedindatingyou,becauseI’mprettysureIalreadyknowtheanswer.”
Parkergivesmealook.“Ishavetwiceaweek.”
Kittychuckles.It’sthefirsttimeI’veheardhermakethatsound.Forsomereasonitremindsmeofadorablebirdsfromaprincessmovietwitteringinthebackground.Oddly,IthinkParkermanagedtodefusetheescalatingsituationbetweenmeandtheKittyWhisperer.
“She’slaughing.”
“Don’ttellhimthat!You’llhurthisfeelings,”Kittychastises.
“Hemakesthreemilliondollarsayearasarookieandflirtslikeafiend.He’llbefine.”
“Whyyoudoingmedirtylikethat?Askherifshe’sseenGreat-GrandadO’Toolelately.”
I’mannoyedthatParkerisouthere,makingitimpossibleformetofinishthisconversationwithKitty.
“Oh!He’sMr.O’Toole’sgreat-grandson?TellhimIjustsawhimthismorning,andhecouldn’tfindhispants.Ithinkheneedstogethiseyescheckedagain.Ormaybesomenewglasses.”
AndnowI’mannoyedthatshe’salreadyfriendlierwithParkerthansheiswithme.Granted,Ihavebeenadick.
“I’llpassthemessageon.”IwaveParkeraway.“Bytheway,youalwaystiptotherightwhenyou’reabouttotakeashotonnet.That’swhytheoppositionstealsthepuckfromyoujustbeforeyoutaketheshot.”
Hisjawdropsandherunsahandthroughhishair.“Fuck.”
“Nowletmefinishmyconversationinpeace,orIwon’ttellyouhowtofixtheproblem.”
Parkerdisappearsbackintotherestaurant.“Sorryaboutthat.”Isigh.It’snotjustdatathatIanalyze.It’sassessingtheplays,too,andfiguringoutwhatworksandwhatdoesn’t.It’smyabsolutedreamjob,butsometimestheegoandtheplayeranticscanbealottohandle.“Kitty?Youstillthere?”
“Yeah.Yes.Here.”Sheexhalessoftly.“DidyoujustgiveadvicetoanNHLplayer?”
“Sortof.MyroleistolookatthenumbersandwatchplayerssoIcanhelpthecoachbuildontheirstrengthsandunderstandtheirweaknessesasindividuals,andaspartoftheirline.Likewhoworksbesttogether.Thatsortofthing.”Irubthebackofmyneck.
“I’veneverseenahockeygamelive,butIusedtowatchitonTVwithmydadsometimes.Hewasabigfan.Ifhecouldn’twatchit,hewouldlistentothegamesontheradio.”Shemakesahummingsound.“Funnythatofallthethingsmydadloved,mymomneveractuallysatdownandwatcheditwithhim.”
Irealizeshe’stalkingaboutherdadinthepasttense,anditmakesmewanttoaskquestions.ButIdon’thavethechance.
Sheclearsherthroat,andhervoicetakesonthatsharpedgeI’vegrownaccustomedto.“Anyway.IneedtogetPrinceFrancis’slittersituationhandled,andI’lltrytokeepthecostsdown.”
“ShouldIsendyoumoneyupfrontforthat?”Idon’tevenknowhowoftenshebillsyet.Butfromtheratesonhersite,itseemslikecatsittingisalucrativejob.
“Ihaveacoupleoflitterboxesonhand,soit’snotoutofpocket.”
“Ifthatchanges,letmeknow.”Ishouldstopgripingaboutmoneysoshecanbelessannoyedwithme.
“Ofcourse.Well,IneedtohandlethislitterboxbeforePrinceFrancisdecidestoleaveanotherpoopbombonthefloor.TellParkerIsaidgoodluck!”
“Youtoo!”Isay,likeanidiot.
“Ihavecatsonmyside.Idon’tneedluck.”
Sheendsthecall,andIstandthereforamoment,tryingtofigureoutwhatexactlyitisaboutKittythatmakesmewanthertohatemeless.MaybebecauseI’vealreadymadeaterriblefirstandsecondimpressionwithher?Orbecauseourcrappyintroisanechooftherestofmylife?Whoknows?
ButapparentlyIsuckwithpeople.
Andcats.
AndKitty.chaptersevenTHATESCALATEDQUICKLYKitty
AfterfivedaysofcaringforPrinceFrancis,Icanconcludethatacleanlitterboxdoesn’tmakealickofdifferencewherehisdestructivebehaviorsareconcerned.WhichmeansIwasrightabouttherealissuebeingthelackofsnuggletimeandmissinghishuman.
Milesisbackfromhistrip,andI’mmeetinghimathismother’shousesowecangooveraplanofcareforPrinceFrancis.I’malsohopingtogetabitmoreinformationonhowlongI’llbemakingdoubledailyvisits.Constantcatcarecanbecostly,andcurrentlyI’mgivinghimmyshort-termfee,butifI’llbecheckinginonPrinceFrancisforanextendedperiod,I’lladjusttomylong-termrates.
Moneyconversationsalwaysmakemenervous.IlovewhatIdo,somuchsothatIwoulddoitforfree.Butthat’snotsavvybusinesspractice,andIcan’tearnalivingonsmilesandlove.Plus,Ihelpmymomwiththehouseholdexpenses,andI’mtryingtosquirrelmoneyawaysooneday,apparentlyinthenexttwoyears,Icanbuyaplaceofmyown.
IturndownPebbleStreetandparkinfrontofPrinceFrancis’shouse.Miles’scarisalreadyinthedriveway.Itakeadeepbreathandtampdownthesurgeofirritationthatmakesthehairsonthebackofmyneckstandonend.I’vetextedMileswithupdatesonPrinceFranciswhilehe’sbeenaway,asIgenerallydowithallmyclients,sendingdailyphotoupdates—uponhisrequest,whichsurprisedme.AtleastuntilIlearnedtheywereforhismother.Ikeepmymessagesbriefandtothepoint.EspeciallysinceI’vehadthatstupidfootballdreambasicallyeverynight.ThemostannoyingpartisthateverytimeIhaveit,theoutfitsIstartoutinbecomeincreasinglyoutlandish.LastnightIwaswearingskimpylacelingerieandahelmet,andthatwasit.Iwilladmit,DreamMerockedthatlingerie.
I’veneverbeenphysicallyattractedtosomeoneIstronglydislikebefore,andIfinditextraconflicting.Mybodydoesn’tseemtocarethathe’sadog-loving,cat-hatingjerk.Itseemstothinkallthatmattersistickingmyphysicalattractionboxes.
“Youcandothis.Youcanhandledealingwithanattractivejerk.Pretendhe’sMr.PotatoHeadifyouneedto.Remember,he’sprobablythekindofguywhotootsandblamesitonhisdog.Also,donotdrawyourwatergunwithoutwarningthistime.Andifhetacklesyouagain,it’sprobablyasignthatyoushouldstopcaringforhismother’scat,nomatterhowmuchyoulikehim.Thecat,obviously.”Myrecurringdreamcomesbackinannoyingflashes.“Ormaybeitmeanshewantstomakeoutwithyou.”Ifrownatmyreflectionintherearviewmirror.“Thiswholeopposites-attractfantasystopshere,Kitty.”
Ileavethesafetyofmycarandavoidtrippingonthecurbonthewaytothefrontdoor.TodayIknock,becauseMilesishere.Ihearashoutfrominsidethehousetoletmyselfin,soIdo.
IfindMilesinthelivingroomstandinginfrontofthefireplace,severalboxesathisfeet.He’swearingyellowrubberkitchengloves,whichseemsodd,untilhepicksupagnomeandaheadpopsupbetweenaChristmasgnomeandanEasterone.PrinceFrancishisses,thenswatsMiles’shand.Hegrabsthegnomewithtwoclawedpawsandbitesitsbutt.Ibitemyliptostiflealaugh.
“Seriouslyman,youneedtochillout.”Milesreleasesthegnome.
PrinceFrancistakestheopportunitytowraphisentirebodyaroundthelittlegnomeandrollsontohisback,doingsomebicyclekicks,whichinturnknocksthreegnomesoffthemantel.PrinceFrancisnearlyfallsofftheledgehimself,butcatcheshisbalancebeforehejoinsthegnomesonthefloor.
“Somecatisinafriskymood,”Iobserve.I’mtalkingtoPrinceFrancis,notMiles,buthemustnotrealizethat.
“EverytimeItrytoputsomethinginabox,heattacksmeortheobject.Itriedtocorralhimintooneofthebedrooms,buthe’saboutasherdableasasquirrel.It’smakingthiswholepackingshitprettydamndifficult.”Hestartstorunahandthroughhishair,butstopswhenheremembershe’swearingrubbergloves.
Packingindicatesmoving,whichmeansthesituationwithhismommightbemoreseriousthanIrealized.“Isyourmotherokay?”
“It’slookingalotlikeshe’llneedfull-timecare.Thedoctorsaresayingherdementiaisfartooadvancedforhertokeeplivingalone.”Hisshoulderscurlforward,andhestripsonegloveoffhishandandwipesitonhisjeans,thenpinchesthebridgeofhisnose.“Sorry,mymother’smentalstateisn’tyourproblem.”
AsfrustratingasdealingwithMileshasbeen,Idohaveaheart,andbasedonhisexpression,hisseemsbruisedoverallofthis.Isetasidemyfeelingsandtrytoputmyselfinhisshoes.Takingcareofhismother’scatwhileshe’sinthehospital,notknowingwhatthesituationisgoingtolooklikewhenshe’sreleased.MaybehisdisdainforPrinceFrancishasmoretodowiththesituationthanitdoestheactualcat.“Thatcan’tbeaneasythingtodealwith.”
Heflipsthegnomeoverinhishands.“Ididn’trealizethatsomeoneheragecoulddeclinethisquickly.Ithoughtmaybeshecouldhaveapersonalsupportworkerstopbyafewtimesaweek,butthedoctorsaretellingmeshe’slikelytowanderoffagain.She’sluckythepolicefoundherandsomethingmoreseriousdidn’thappen.”Hedropsthegnomeinthebox.“Anyway,Istartedlookingathomesyesterday,butthere’salottotakeintoconsideration.AndIcan’thavethisfreakingcatknockingcrapofftheshelvesallthetime.He’sboundtosteponbrokenglass,andthat’sanotherexpensiveproblemtofix.”
Myheartwasgettingmeltyuntilthatlaststatement.
Heblowsoutabreath.“IrealizethatIsoundlikead-bagwhenIsaythingslikethat.AndyoushouldprobablyconsiderraisingyourratessinceI’musingyoulikeafreakingtherapist,butIwenttothehospitalthisafternoonandtheygavemethenews,andthenIcamehereandfoundthismess.”
AndI’mbacktobeingmelty.IfIwereinthesamepredicamentasMiles,Idon’tknowthatI’dpresentthebestversionofmyselfeither.SoIsetasidemynegativefeelingsandpressmyempathybutton.“Thetherapysessionisonthehouse.Thistime,anyway.”
Hegivesmeasidelongglanceandsmirksalittle.
PrinceFrancisdoesabuttwiggleandprance,thenlauncheshimselfontothearmofthecouchandbouncestothefloor,weavingbetweenmyfeetwithapurr.
MilesgivesPrinceFrancisthestink-eye.“OhIseehowitis.Aprettyladyshowsup,andyou’reallromanceandseduction.”
Ichokebackalaughandmakeasqueakysoundinstead.Donotgetallswoonyoveranoffhandcompliment,Kitty.“Heassociatesmewithfoodandpets,andheassociatesyouwithchange,”Iexplain.“Ithasnothingtodowithromanceandeverythingtodowithfood.”
“MaybeIshouldstartbringinghimsnacks,soourmutualloathingcomesdownafewnotches.”Milessneezesintothecrookofhisarm.
Iholdoutabaggiefulloftreats.“Itcouldn’thurt.Whydon’tyougivehimsomeofthese,andIcanfindsomeofhistoystodistracthimwhileyoupack?”
Hiseyesflare,likehe’ssurprisedbytheoffer.“Areyousureyoudon’tmind?”
Hetakesthebaggie,andItuckmyhandbackintothepocketofmycardigan.“IwasplanningtohangwithPrinceFrancisanyway.”Besides,I’mnotdoingthisforanyreasonotherthanPrinceFrancis’swell-being.Atleastthat’swhatI’mtellingmyself.
PrinceFrancisjumpsuponhishindlegs,clawsdiggingintomyjeans,untilherealizesI’mnolongertheholderofthetreats.Heredirectshisaffection,rubbingupagainstMiles’slegandmeowingloudly.
Milesopensthebagandmakesaface,probablybecausethetreatsdon’tsmellallthatgreat.Althoughdogfooddoesn’tsmellanybetter.Hecrouchesandholdsoutatreatinhispalm,butleansawayfromPrinceFrancis,asifhe’sexpectinganattack.
PrinceFrancispawsatthetreatacoupleoftimesbeforehedecidesit’ssafe,swatsittothefloor,andgobblesitup.ThenhemeowsandrubshimselfonMiles’slegagain.“IfI’dknownitwasthiseasytowinhimover,Iwouldhavefedhimtreatsfromdayone.”
“Itmighthavemadeyourlifeeasier.CanIuseoneofthese?”Imotiontoanemptybox.
“Knockyourselfout.”Hemakesaface.“Notliterally,though.”
“Thatseemstobeyourstrongsuit,notmine.”ItampdownthememoryofthedreamsI’vebeenhaving,whereI’mtheonedoingthetackling,notMiles
WhileItrytokeepmymindfromwanderingtoinappropriateplaces,MilesfeedsPrinceFrancisanothertreat,andIcheckunderthefurnitureforhistoys.
IpokeafewholesinthesideoftheboxandusesometwinetocreateswingingtoysforPrinceFrancistoplaywith.IalsoaddcatnipmicethatIbroughtalongtodaytogivePrinceFrancissomethingtogetexcitedabout.
Oncethecatplaystationissetup,ItossacoupleofextratreatsinsidetoenticePrinceFrancis.Itdoesthetrick,andaminutelaterhe’slyingonhisback,chewingonthecatniptoy,meowinghappily.
“They’rekindofliketemperamental,slightlypsychopathicdogs,aren’tthey?”Milesstandswithhishandsonhiships,pokingathisfullbottomlipwithhistongue.Ireallywishhewerelessattractiveandalsolesscatintolerant.Itwouldmakebeinginhispresencelessfrustrating.
“They’renotpsychopaths.They’reindependent.”Itakeasteptowardthekitchen.“Ishouldputoutfreshfoodandchangethelitterbox.”
“Ialreadyhandledthelitter.Iwasonthefencewithhowexpensivethatcontraptionis,butit’swaymoreconvenientthanmanagingitmanually.”
“Soyoudon’tthinkI’mtryingtoripyouoffanymore?”Ineedtocurbmycattycomebacks.“Theconveniencefactorishardtobeat,anditcountsthenumberoftimesPrinceFrancisusesthelitter,soyou’llknowwhenit’stimetochangeit.”Imotiontotheshelvesandsoftenmysurly.“Thislookslikeabigjobtotackleonyourown.Doyouwantsomehelp?”
“It’sallright,Icanhandleit.”Milesbitestheinsideofhischeek,gazedartingfromtheboxinfrontofmetotheshelves.
“MostlyI’mofferingbecauseitwouldbesaferforPrinceFrancisifhe’snotatriskofsteppingonbrokenpieces.”Somuchfordroppingmysurly.
Milesrubsthebackofhisneck.“Right.Yeah.Thatmakessense.”
Igrabanemptyboxandgetstartedontheshelftotherightofthefireplace,fullofdustyknickknacks.Theawkwardsilenceismakingmeuneasy,soIfillitwithquestions.“Howwasyourtrip?Diditgowell?”Istifleasneeze.
“Blessyou.Itwasgood.Ourteamwonbothgames.IthelpsthatoneofMontreal’skeyplayersisoutwithaninjury,andthatourcenterisself-awareandIhadachancetositdownwithhimandreallygooverhisweakareas.”
“HowdidyouendupasadataanalystforanNHLteam?Ididn’tevenknowthatwasathing.”Thisisgood.MaybeI’mbetteratsmalltalkthanIthought.
“Baseballhasbeendoingitforawhile,buttheNHLisbeginningtoseethevalueinit.Sortof.I’monatrialcontract.IworkedinthefinancedepartmentfortheOntarioHockeyLeague,andaperkisfreetickets,soI’dgotoallthegames.Istartedseeingthepatternsintheplays.Well,startedisn’tquiteaccurate.WhenIplayedrechockey,Ipickeduponthesamethings,andwe’dalwayssitdownaftergamesandtalkthroughhowwecouldimprove.”Hewavesahandaroundintheair.“Anyway,longstoryshort,mybestfriendisToronto’sgeneralmanager’sassistant,andhesuggestedtheybringmeonthisseasontoseeifIcouldprovideinsight,sohereIam.IjustneedtoprovetotheteamthatI’mworthkeeping.”
Isetasmilingotterinthebox.“Wow.That’salotofpressure.”
Heliftsashoulderandletsitfall.“ButifIhelptheteamincreasetheiroverallscoringrecord,wegetbetterratings.Thatcansometimeshelpmorale,andIgettokeepdoingthis.IknewIwasn’tevergoingtobeabletoplayprofessionally,sinceI’mnotreallybuiltforthesport.”Hemotionstohislong,leanframe.“ThiswayIgettoworkinthefieldIloveandhelptheplayersreachtheirmaximumpotential.”
Icanappreciatehisenthusiasmforhisjob,becausethat’showIfeelaboutmine.Andwebothworkinatypicalroles.“Whatkindofcredentialsdoyouneedforsomethinglikethat?”
Hesneezesandexcuseshimselfbeforeresponding.“Ihaveadegreeinsportsmanagementandstatistics.Igeekoutprettyhardovernumbers.AndoccasionallyI’llgettotravelwiththeteam,likethispastweekend,whichisalsocool.Therookieplayersarealwaysexciting,becausethere’ssomuchroomforupwardtrajectory.”Hewavesaroundahand.“Anyway,I’mblatheringonaboutthis,andyou’reprobablyjustnoddingandsmilingtobenice.”Hecoughsintothecrookofhiselbow,followingitwithadoublesneeze.“ItookanantihistaminebeforeIcamehere,butIthinkallthepackingisprobablydisturbingalotofdustanddanderandmakingmyallergiesactup.”
“You’reallergictocats?”Thatcouldeasilyexplainhisopendisdainfortheindependentfour-leggedfluffballs.
“EverytimeIcomehere,I’msneezingandcoughingandmyeyesendupredandwatery.”Hemotionstohisfaceandsnifflesonce.Hiseyesarealittlered.
“Hmm.Usuallysphynxcatsarebetterforpeoplewithallergies,buteveryoneisdifferent.”
“Weneverhadcatsgrowingup.ButIhaveaGreatDane,andI’veneverhadareactiontohim.”
“Ohwow.Danesarehuge.”Ilikedogswellenough,butI’mabitmorepartialtothesmalleronesthatcan’tknockmeover.“Weonlyeverhadcatsinmyhouse.”
“Wilfredisabigdog,buthe’satotalmarshmallowandwouldliketothinkhe’salapdog.Thistakingcareofacatisafirstforme.”HemotionstoPrinceFrancis,whoishappilyrollingaroundonthefloor.“Anyway,tellmemoreabouthowyouendedupasacatwhisperer.Howdoesonerealizethat’stheircalling?”
“Itjustsortofhappened,Iguess.”Iliftashoulderandletitfall.ThisissuchadifferentsideofMiles,andIwonderifwejustgotoffonthewrongfoot.Well,IknowIsuredid.“Afriendwasgoingawayforacoupleofweeks,andheaskedifIwouldmindcheckingonhiscatwhilehewasgone.HeactuallyaskedmeifIwouldhouse-sit,andhelivedinaniceplacedowntown,closetoacafémyfriendowns.Ithoughtitwouldbekindoffun.Likeastaycation.Whiletheyweregone,Itaughttheircat,Mario,howtousethetoiletinsteadofthelitterbox.”
Hiseyebrowslift.“Youcandothat?”
“Sure.Despitepopularbelief,catsaretrainable.Withpatienceandtherightmotivation,youcanteachthemhowtodoalmostanything.Andthesepeoplelivedonthetwenty-secondfloorofahighrise,sogettingridoflitterisajob,andit’ssmellyinsmallspaces.Havingapotty-trainedcateliminatesthatproblem.”
“Doyouthinkyoucoulddothatwiththisguy?”HepointstoPrinceFrancis,whoiscurrentlydroolingalloverthecatnipmouse.
“Maybe.Hejustneedsamotivator.Icouldseeaboutstartingthatnextweekifyou’restillgoingtoneedmyhelp.”Ifhismomismovingintoanassistedlivingfacility,Imightnotbeneededformuchlonger.
“Ohyeah,Iguessweshouldtalkaboutthat.Idon’tknowhowlongit’sgoingtotaketofindtherightplaceformymom,andthey’realreadytalkingaboutmovinghertoatemporaryfacility.”Hedropsanothergnomeintothebox.
“Howdoyoumean?”MaybeI’vebeenirrationallyhardonthisguy.Hejuststartedanewjob,hismomisinthehospital,andnowhehastofindheraplacetolive.That’salotofstress.Andhe’sallergictocats.IfIwasinthesameboat,Imightnotfindthemquitesoendearingeither.
“Theyneedthebedinthehospitalward,soifIdon’thaveaplaceforher,they’llgiveheraroominafacilitythathastherightlevelofcareuntilIcan.Basically,she’satthemercyofthesystem,andsoamI.”Heplucksanothergnomefromthemantelandatumbleweedofdustydebrisfloatstothefloor.Hesneezestwiceintohiselbow.“Excuseme.Soyeah,I’llneedyourhelp.”
“Isitjustyouandyourmom?”Ican’timaginewhatitwouldhavebeenliketohavelostmydadandnothavemysisteraroundforsupport.Eventhoughshewasonlyfourteen,atleastIhadheronmyside,andIdidn’thavetotrytomanagemybrokenheartedmotheralone.
“It’sjustme,andmyparentssplitupwhenIwasthirteen.Theydon’treallyspeak,soit’suptometohandlethis.”
ThemoreIlearnaboutMiles,themorecertainIamthatI’vemisjudgedhim.“Thatmakesitevenmorechallenging,doesn’tit?Doyouthinkyourdadwouldhelpyouifheknewhowmuchworkthisallis?”
Milessneezesintothecrookofhisarmagain.“Excuseme.”Hesneezestwicemore,peelsoffarubberglove,thenpullsaperforatedpillpacketoutofhisshirtpocketandfreesatablet,swallowingitwithoutwater.“I’mnotconvinceditwouldbebettertohavehishelponthis.Notbecausehewouldn’tbewillingtoofferit,it’sjust…complicated.Whenmyparentssplititwas…tough.IendeduplivingwithmydadbecauseitwasclosertotheschoolIwantedtoattend,andtheyhadagreathockeyprogram.Butthathurtmymom,andshe’salwaysbeenbigondoingthingsherselfandnotaskingforhelp,soitaddedanotherlayerofdifficulty.Anyway,allthatistosay,it’sprobablybetterformetohandlethisratherthandredgeupoldhurts.”
He’ssoaloneinallofthis.Itreframesallourpreviousinteractionsandremindsmenottojudgeabookbyitscover.“That’salotofresponsibilitytoshoulder.”
Hegivesmeasmallsmileandclearshisthroat.“I’llgetitsortedout.Anditdoesn’thurtforyoutohavesomebackgroundsinceyou’rehelpingmanagethisguy.”HemotionstoPrinceFrancis,whoisadrooly,happymessonthefloor.
“I’mhappytohelpinwhateverwayIcan.”
“Iappreciatethat.”Hecoughsagain,andthistimeitsoundsmorelikeawheeze.Hetugsatthecollarofhisshirt,suckinginabreaththatsoundspainful.
“Areyouokay?”Itakeastepcloser,tippingmyheadbackasImoveintohispersonalspace.He’squitetall.I’mnotshort,buthe’slongandlean,andI’mprettymuchaverageintermsofheight.“Doyouhaveasthma?Doyouhaveapuffer?”
“Notasthma.”Heclearshisthroatagain,suckinginanotherwheezingbreath.“Ithink.”Wheeze.“I’mhaving.”Wheeze-wheeze.“Anallergicreaction.”Gasp.“Can’tbreathe.”
“Oh!OhmyGod.DoyouhaveanEpiPen?”Ihadafriendinhighschoolwithapeanutallergy,andwehadtostabhermorethanonce.Itwasterrifying.
Heshakeshishead.
“HowcanyouhaveanallergicreactiontosomethingthatcausesyoutonotbeabletobreatheandnothaveanEpiPen!”Ibelatedlyrealizethatnowisprobablynotthebesttimetoscoldhim.“Weneedtogetyoutothehospital.Rightnow.”Ishimmyupnexttohimandduckunderhisshoulder,wrappingmyarmaroundhiswaist.Hismusclesflexundermyfingers.
Hestumbles,andIweaveourwaytothedoor.
Whenwegetoutside,hetriestosuckinadeepbreath,butagain,itsoundslikeanelderlypersontryingtosuckathickmilkshakethroughatoo-smallstraw.AtfirstwestarttowardmySUV,butthenIthinkbetterofit.Ifhe’sreactingtoPrinceFrancis,puttinghiminacarloadedwithcatdanderandcatfurisabadidea.
“Weshouldprobablytakeyourcar.”WestopinfrontofhisblackTesla.Itipmyheadup.“I’veneverbeeninanaccidentbefore.IpromiseI’masafedriver,andIwilltakecareofyoursteelbaby,butI’dreallylikeitifyousurvivedtoday.”Especiallysinceitseemsmyoriginaldisdainforhimwasn’tquitesonecessary.“Whereareyourkeys?”
Heinhalesanotherlaboredbreathandsagsagainstme.Ishiftsohe’sleaningonhiscarandpathiship,overhispocket.Icanfeeltheoutlineofhiskeys.Idon’taskpermission,andjammyhandinthere.
IfindmyfacemashedintohissideandmyboobpressedagainsthisribsasIfeelaroundforthekeyring.Ibrieflygrazesomethingsquishyandhegrunts,butImanagetohookthekeyswithmypinkie.“Gotem!”Ishoutintohisside,thenyankmyhandfree.
“Don’t.”Gasp.“Need.”Wheeze.“Them.”Heopensthepassengerdoor.
Well,thatwouldhavebeengoodtoknowbeforeItouchedtheheadofhispenisthroughthepocketofhispants.I’mnotgoingtoaddressthepenis-elephant,though.
Ever.
Ihelphimintothepassengerseat,closethedoor,rusharoundthehood,andlaunchmyselfintothedriver’sside.I’mverygratefulthatMilesbackedin,soallIhavetodoisbuckleup,pushabutton,andputthecarindrive
Itonlytakessevenminutestogettothehospital,althoughIdidrunalotofstaleyellowstomakeithappen.Ipullintotheemergencyparkingandgethiminside.Hiswheezinghaslessenedslightlysinceweleftthehouse,whichI’mtakingasagoodsign,buthiseyesareredandpuffy,andsoarehislips.They’reusuallyquitefull,butrightnowtheylooklikethey’vebeenstungbyahiveofbees.
Idon’twanttoleavehimaloneintheemergencyroom,butthenurseassuresmethey’retakingcareofhim,andIhavetoparkthecarsoitdoesn’tendupgettingtowed.Ireturnafewminuteslater,buthe’snolongersittinginintake.Irushuptothenurse’sstation,franticalloveragain.FlashesofmemoryfrommyteenyearsflickerthroughmymindandIshovethemdown.Thisisn’tthesame.Butstill,theycome,andIcan’thelpthequestionthatneverseemstogoaway,nomatterhowmuchtimepasses.IfI’dfoundmydadsooner,wouldwehavegottenhimtothehospitalintime?Maybehewouldstillbehereandtherewouldn’tbeahugeholeinourfamilythatbelongstohim.
“Miss?CanIhelpyou?”
Ishakemyhead,pullingmyselfoutofthememoriesandbackintothepresent.“Oh.Yes.Therewasaman.MilesThorn.Ibroughthimin.Hewasinthatwheelchairandnowhe’snot.”Ipointtotheemptychair,thenwringmyhands.
Sheclicksonherkeyboardforafewsecondsthatfeelmorelikehours.“Ohyes,letmetakeyoutohim.”Sherollsbackherchair.
“Isheokay?”
“Thedoctorsarewithhimnow.”
Inoticeshedoesn’tanswerthequestiondirectly,andmypanicratchetsupanotchortwo.
Idon’treallyknowMiles,notwell,apartfromthemessageswe’veexchangedoverthepastweek.Buttheconversationtodaywasalotlesshostileonbothsides,andIwouldliketohaveanotheroneofthosewithhim.I’mbeginningtothinkhe’ssomeoneImightliketoknow.Andthepossibilitythathemaynotbeokayfreaksmeout.Logically,I’mawarethatI’minfatalistmode,andthatI’mprobablyblowingthisoutofproportion,butuntilIseehe’sokay,Idon’tthinkI’mgoingtobeabletocalmmyselfdown.
“YoudidtherightthingbybringingMilestotheemergencyroom,”thenursereassuresme.ShepullsbackacurtainandthereliesMiles,lipsswollen,faceblotchy,hookeduptomachines,aneedleinthebackofhishand.
Oneofthedoctorsinjectssomethingintothedripbag.“You’llbesleepyafterthis.We’llmonitoryouforafewhourstomakesureyou’reokaybeforewegiveyoutheall-clear.”
“Okay,”Milesrasps,hisgazedartingtome.“Hey.”
“Heyyourself.”Igivehimasmallsmile,thenturnmyattentionbacktothedoctor.“IsMilesokay?”
“We’llneedtosetupsomebloodteststodetermineexactlyhowseveretheallergyis,andwe’llprescribeanEpiPeninthemeantime,buthehadaseriousallergicreaction.Wewanttomakesureweknowtheexactcausesohecanavoidfuturecontact.”
“Wewerepackingupsomeboxesinhismother’shouse.Shehasasphynxcat.Ithoughttheywereusuallybetterforpeoplewithcatallergies,butmaybewedisturbedallthedanderinthecarpetandthat’swhathe’sreactingto?”
“It’spossible.”Thedoctornods.“Butthisisaseverereaction,sowe’lldosometeststoconfirmtheallergy.”
Oncethedoctorisconfidentthereactionisundercontrol,andMiles’sbreathingisbacktonormal,heleavestotendtootherpatients.
ThenursepatsMilesontheshoulder.“Theantihistamineisastrongone.It’llprobablyknockyouout.”Shelooksatme.“You’rewelcometostayandkeepyourboyfriendcompany,butyoumightwanttogrababookoramagazine.”
“Oh,I’mnothisgirlfriend.I’mjust…”Hismother’scatsitterdoesn’tseemliketherightthingtosayafterwhatwe’vejustgonethrough.“Afriend.”
Sheglancesbetweenusandsmiles.“Okay,well,I’llletyoutwofigurethingsout.”
Shepullsthecurtainclosedbehindher.Istandattheendofthebed.He’ssolonghisfeetpokeoutofthebottom.He’sstillwearinghissocks,whichhavelittlebonesonthemagain.
“Youdon’thavetostickaround.I’vealreadytakenupmorethanenoughofyourtimetonight.”Heclearshisthroatandsnifflesonce.
“Idon’tmindstayingifyou’dlikesomecompany.”AndIwon’tfeelverygoodaboutmyselfifIleavehimhereonhisown.“Nocharge,obviously,”Itackonwithacheekysmile.
Hislipsturnupinaslowsmile.“Myeyeballsalreadyfeellikethereareweightsattachedtothem.”Heheavyblinksacoupleoftimes.“I’llprobablypassoutonyou.”
“That’sokay.Unlessyou’dlikemetogo.MaybeI’mexacerbatingyourallergy?”I’dsayIdon’tknowwhyI’msoinsistentaboutstaying,butIdo.Iwanttomakesurehe’sokay,andtheonlywaytoaccomplishthatistohangarounduntilhe’sreleased.Iglancedownatmyoutfit.I’mwearingoneofmyKittyWhispererT-shirts,alongcardiganwithacatandballofyarnpattern,andapairofjeans.They’rerelativelyfreeofcathair,butthatdoesn’tmeananythingconsidering.
He’ssilentforafewbeatsbeforehesays,“I’dlikeitifyoustayed.”chaptereightIKINDOFLIKEYOUMiles
Ishouldprobablylethergohome.There’ssomethingendearingaboutthenervouswayshekeepsfidgetingwiththebuttonsonhercardigan,sizingupthechairbesidemybed.Ormaybeit’sthedrugs.Regardless,thewholeairwaysclosingdealisunnerving,soIwouldn’tmindsomecompanyapartfrompassingmedicalstaff.
IreachfortheplasticcupofwateronthebedsidetableandpropmyselfupenoughsoIcantakeasip,butIendupdribblingthecontentsallovermyshirt.
“Oh!Letmehelp.”
ShetakesthewaterfrommyhandasItrytodabatmymouth,whichfeels…odd.
Shepullsseveraltissuesfromtheboxonthebedsidetableandmovesmyhandawayfrommyface.“You’realittleswollenstill;itprobablymakesthingsawkward.”
“Howswollen?”
Shedabsatmymouthwiththetissues,andthenmychest.
Thecontactsendsawelcomeshotofwarmththroughmyarm.
“Um,sortoflikeyouhiredthewrongplasticsurgeonandtheywentoverboardonthecollageninjections.”
Igrimace.“Thatdoesnotsoundgoodatall.”
“Theswellinghasstartedtogodown,sosoonyou’llbebacktoyourhandsomeself.”
“YouthinkI’mhandsome?”
Shearchesabrow.“Thecomplimenthasalreadybeengiven;noneedtofishformore.”
Isettlebackagainstthepillow,myeyesalreadyfeelingheavy.“Well,Ithinkyou’repretty.”Thewordsarethickinmymouth.
“You’realsoondrugs.”
Iprymylidsbackopen.“Youwereprettybeforethedrugs.”
Shesmilesfaintlyandourgazesmeet.Hercheeksflushandhereyesshiftaway.“Thankyou.”
“Thankyou,”Irepeat.
Onceshe’sfinishedpattingmedry,shebringsthestrawbacktomylips.ThistimeImanagetogetamouthfulwithoutitdribblingdownmychin.Iletmyheadfallbackagainstthepillow.Atthispointitfeelslikeit’smadeoflead.
“Who’stakingcareofyourdog?Doyouneedtocallsomeone?”sheasks.
I’mnotsureifIimagineit,butIswearIfeelherfingersinmyhair.Openingmyeyesisgettingharder.
“Ishouldcallmyneighbors.JoeandMarktakecareofWilfredwhenI’maway.”
“Icandoitforyouifyou’dlike.”
“Justneedmyphone.”Islaparoundatmywaist,feelingforit.
“It’srighthere.”Sheholdsitupinfrontofmyface,whichunlocksit
Sheevenhelpsmebringupthecontactlist,butwhenItrytojabthescreenImiss.
“Icantakeitfromhere.Youjustrest.”
Inodonceandclosemyeyes.Icanhearhertalking,butshesoundsfaraway.Ireachout,I’mnotsurewhatfor,butfingersclosearoundmineandthenI’msinkingintodarkness.
ThenexttimeIopenmyeyesit’stothesoundofwhisperedvoices.Icrackalid.
“Theswellinghasgonedown,andhe’sbreathingnormally,”thenursesaysquietly.“We’llgivehimanEpiPenjustincase,andIcanshowyouhowtouseitaswell,soyoucanadministeritinanemergency.”
“Oh,uh—”
Iclearmythroat,andbothofthemstartle.“Oh!”Kittyflitsaroundthesideofthebed,handsflutteringintheair.“You’reawake!That’sgreat!Howareyoufeeling?”ForamomentIthinkshe’sgoingtotouchmyfaceorrunherfingersthroughmyhair,eitherofwhichwouldbeunexpected,butalsonotunwelcome.Shedropsherhandsbeforeshemakescontact,though,whichisslightlydisappointing.
“I’mokay.Whattimeisit?”
“Justafterten,”thenursesupplies,gazemovingtohisclipboardandthenbacktome.
“Ten?I’vebeenoutforhours.”Idon’tknowhowmany,butitmustbeseveral,sinceitwasarounddinnertimewhenKittyfirstarrivedatmymother’s.
“Theantihistamineswerestrong.”Kittyawkwardlypatsmyshoulder,thenclaspsherhandstogetheragain.
“Thanksforstaying.”Myvoiceishoarsewithsleep,butmythroatnolongerfeelslikeit’stryingtoclose,sothat’sgreat.It’sonethingtosleepwithsomeonebesideyouwhoisalsosleeping.It’sanotherthingtobeoutcoldondrugswhilesomeoneIdon’tknowallthatwell,whoisn’tveryfondofme,sitsbymybedsideandwatchesovermebecauseIhadanallergicreaction.Possiblytomymother’scat.
“Itwasmoreformypeaceofmindthananything,”shemutters.
Idon’tknowwhatthatmeans,andthere’sanurseintheroom,whosegazekeepsflippingbetweenus,asifhe’stryingtofigureoutthedynamic.IknowIam.
Thenursetakesmyvitalsandgivesmetheall-clear,buttellsKittythatIshouldn’tdriveforatleastanothereighttotwelvehoursandthatitwouldbebestifIwasn’tonmyown,incaseIhaveanotherattack.
“Shit.HowamIgoingtogethome?”
Afterafewseconds,Kittysays,“Icandriveyou.”
“Iliveinthecity,though.Andthenhowwillyougethome?I’llcallanUber.”
“Butthedoctorsaidyoushouldn’tbeleftalone.”Sheclaspsherhandsbehindherback.“Unlessyouhavearoommateoragirlfriendwholiveswithyou?”Hercheeksflush.
That’saninterestingreaction.“Noroommateorgirlfriend,justmydog.Crap.He’sbeenaloneallday.”
“Italkedtoyourneighbors,remember?Ormaybeyoudon’t.Buttheytookhimforawalkandbroughthimbacktotheirplace.Itoldthemyou’dcallwhenyouwerebeingreleased.”
“Right.Okay.That’sgood.”Ivaguelyrememberherofferingtocallthem.Itfeelslikedaysago,nothours.
“Ithinkit’sbestformetodriveyouhomeandstaytomakesureyoudon’thaveanotherreaction,”shesaysdecisively.
“Myneighborsarerightacrossthehall.”
“Ifyourthroatclosesandyoupassoutfromlackofoxygen,it’sgoingtobehardtocallthem,”sheargues.“AndI’dsayyoucouldstayatmyplace,butIlivewithmymomandsister.”
“AndI’msureyouhaveatleasttwocats.”Iclearmythroat;justsayingthewordmakesmywindpipesfeellikethey’reconstricting.
“Nocats,justembarrassingfamilymembers.”
“Youdon’thaveacat?”That’sasurprise.
“NotsinceIwasateenager.”Shedropsherhead,andherexpressiongrowspinched.
Ifeellikethere’sastorythere.Howcansomeonewhoadorescatsnotownone?Thatseems…preposterous.ButIleaveitalone,notwantingtoaddtotheweirdtension.“Areyousureyou’reokaytotakemehome?”
“I’msure.Besides”—shegivesmeacheekysmile—“yourcarisfuntodrive.”
“Ah,thereitis,therealreasonbehindtheoffer.”Ithrowmylegsoverthesideofthebedandlookdownatmyhospitalgown–coveredtorso.“Ineedsomeclothes.”
“They’rerighthere.”Kittypassesmethepile,whichwassittingonthesmalltablebesidethebed.
Icrosstothebathroom.AfterI’mdressedIsignthereleasepapersandnodandagreewiththedoctoraboutallergyteststhathavebeensetupforme,notbeingaloneforthenexttwelveorsohours,andnotgettingbehindthewheelofacar.
OnceI’vebeendischarged,westartfortheexit,butIrememberIwassupposedtoseemymothertonightsoIcouldprepareherforthetriptovisitaretirementvillagelaterthisweek,andshehappenstobeinthisveryhospital.Visitinghoursarelongover,butIwanttocheckinwiththenursetoseehowshe’sdoingbeforeweleave.
“Hey,Miles,you’reherelate.”Stephanie,thenightnurse,whoI’vemetonseveraloccasionssinceImostlystopinafterwork,tipsherheadtotheside.HergazeshiftstoKittyandthenbacktome.
Imotiontomyface.“Ihadabitofathing.”
Atthefurrowinherbrow,Kittypipesup.“Hehadanallergicreaction.Possiblytoacat.AtleastI’mhopingit’sthecathe’sallergictoandnotme.”Shelaughs,likeshe’ssurprisedthatthosewordscameoutofhermouth,andhercheeksturnpink.
“Idon’tthinkit’syou,”ItellherandturnmyattentionbacktoStephanie,wholooksamused.“Anyway,Ijustwantedtocheckinandseehowmymother’sdaywas.I’dplannedtovisit,butobviouslythatdidn’thappen.”
“Shehadafewlucidmoments.Sheaskedaboutyou,actually.Sherememberedyouweresupposedtostopby.”
InodandraponthecounteroncebeforeIjammyhandinmypocket.“I’msorryifthatcausedyouanyissues,mynotshowingup.”
“Nothingwecouldn’thandle.ShouldIletherknowthatyou’llbebytomorrowifsheasks?”
“That’dbegreat,thanks.”
Onthewaytothecar,IcallJoeandMarktoletthemknowI’monmywayhome.IreassurethemI’mokayandthatIcanmanageWilfredtonight.IfoldmyselfintothepassengerseatofmyTeslaandpressHomeontheGPS.“I’msorryImonopolizedyourentirenight.”
“IwouldhavewatchedrerunsofTwoandaHalfMenifI’dbeenathome,andIcanprettymuchreciteeverysinglelinedowntothelaughtrack,soyousavedmefromlip-syncingtoanoldTVshow.”Shepullsoutofthespotandheadstowardtheexit.
“Whyreruns?”
“Mymomlikestowatchit.Itwasmydad’sfavoriteshow.”
“Was?Whathappenedtoyourdad?”Thisisn’tthefirsttimeshe’sreferredtohiminpasttense.
Shekeepshereyesontheroadandhergriponthesteeringwheeltightensbriefly.“MydadpassedawaywhenIwasateenager.”
Thatfamiliarpangmakesmyheartsoreforasecond.“Ohman.I’msosorry.Wasitunexpected?”
“Hehadamassiveheartattack.Wedidn’tgethimtothehospitalfastenough,”shesayssoftly.
“Thatmusthavebeenhard.”Andexplainswhyshewassointentongettingmetothehospitalasquicklyaspossible,andstayingtheentiretime,anddrivingmehome.AnotherreminderthatI’vebeenajerktoher,andheresheis,takingcareofmeanyway.
“Itwas.Sometimesitstillis.”Sheglancesatmeforasecond.“Losingsomeoneyou’reclosetois…likehavingapieceofyoursoulgomissingthatyoucan’tevergetback.”
“That’sanastonishinglyaccuratewaytodescribeloss.”Irubatmychest,theachemakingmewantto…dosomething.Likehugher.Sootheusboth,maybe.
Shehumsheragreement.“Iimagineit’sequallydifficulttohaveaparentwithdementia.Itwouldfeellikealoss,butthepersonisstillthere,theyjustcan’taccesstheirmemoriesanymore.Itwouldbebothfrustratingandpainful.Theylooklikethesameperson,butthey’renotreallythereanymore.”
ThistimeI’mtheonewhomakesasound,andIgivevoicetotheworriesthathavebeenplaguingmesincemymomwentintothehospital.“LatelymymomhasbeentalkingtomelikeI’mstillakid.It’slikeherbrainisstuckinthepast.MaybeifI’dtriedharderwithher,itwouldn’tbethisbad.”
Kittyreachesoverandsqueezesmyhandbeforequicklywith-drawing.“Don’tdothattoyourself,Miles.Youcan’tholdtheblameforhermemoryfailingher.”
Iwonderifshe’dsaythatifsheknewtheentiretruth.“Sometimesit’shardnottoplaythewhat-ifgame,youknow?”
“Ido.”Shesmilesfaintly,butshekeepshereyesfixedontheroad.
“Anyway,ifIkeepupwiththisintrospection,youreallyaregoingtohavetoupyourratesandchargemelikeatherapist.”
Kittychuckles.“Thisiswhyotherpeople’spetsaregreat.Youcantellthemallyourwoes,andaslongasyougivethempetsandtreats,they’lllisten.Notgreatwiththeactualadvice,butcatharticnonetheless.”
“Mmm.That’sagoodpoint.”
“Tabbiesareparticularlygoodlistenersandexceptionallycuddly,”Kittysays.
“Whataboutdogs?Dotheycount?”
“Ohyes,definitely.Pugsandbulliesarethebest.Alittlesnortyanddrooly,butthesnugglesmakeitworthit.”
“IhopeIwasn’tsnortyanddroolywhenIwasallhoppeduponthoseantihistamines.”ThisconversationIlikebetter.NotmegoingdownarabbitholeofguiltIcan’tgetoutof.
Thatearnsmeachuckle,andIfindIlikethatsound,alot.“Youdon’tsnore,butyoudotalkinyoursleep.”
Ilettheheadrestdoitsjobandclosemyeyes.“IhopeIdidn’tsayanythingincriminating.”
“Itsoundslikeyouweregivingaplayerapeptalk.”Therepetitivetick,tick,ticktellsmethatshe’ssignalingtoturnorchangelanes.
Icrackalidandnotethatwe’regettingonthefreeway.Atleastitwon’tbetoobusyatthistimeofnight.“Idothatalot,dreamaboutplays.”
“Idreamabouttalkingtocats.”
Ilaughandthenyawn.
ThenexttimeIopenmyeyesit’sbecausewe’vearrived,andKittyiswakingmeup.I’mgroggyontheelevatorrideuptotheapartment.
“You’recoolwithdogs,right?”Iaskwhenwereachmyfloor.
“I’mmoreusedtomedium-sizeones,butyes,I’mcoolwithdogs.”
“Wilfredisbigbutveryfriendly.”Exceptsometimeswhenhe’sonaleashandheseesabird.Forwhateverreason,birdsgethimrampedup.Andkidsonskateboards.“He’smorelikelytolickyoutodeaththananythingelse.”
“Deathbylicking?”Hereyebrowsrise,andhergazegoestomymouthforasecondbeforeshelooksawayandherfaceflushes.
AndsuddenlyIhaveaveryluridimageinmyheadthathasabsolutelynothingtodowithmydog.
Kittychewsonherbottomlipwhileherentirefaceturnsbrightred.Ikeepmymouthshutandopenthedoor,shufflingherbehindmeasWilfredcomesboundingdownthehall.Assoonashereachesme,heshoveshisnoseintomycrotch.“Dude,nothanks.”
Hebacksupandplunkshisbuttonthefloor,tailwaggingsohardit’salmostablur.
“Wilfred,meetKitty.”
Histailthumpsonthegroundandhelooksfrommetoherandbackagain,likehe’swaitingforpermissiontosayaproperhello.
Sheholdsoutahandandstepsupbesideme.Wilfredgivesheracursorysniff,thennudgesherhand,lookingforpets.“Heissosweet.”
“Untilhetriestositinyourlaporstealyourdinneroffyourplate,”Isay.
Shescratchesbehindhisear,buthergazemovestome.“Youshouldprobablyliedown.”
“IshouldfeedWilfredfirst.”
“I’lltakecareofWilfred.You’reslowblinkingandusingthewalltopropyourselfup.Ifyoupassout,Imightbeabletosoftenyourfall,butI’dpreferifwedon’taddsprainedbodyparts,yoursormine,tothelistofthingsthathavegonewrongtoday.”
“That’saverygoodpoint.I’llshowyouthespareroom?”
“Sure.Thatsoundsgood.”
WilfredtrotsalongbesidemeasIguideKittydownthehall.Thespareroomgetsusedoccasionallywhenfriendscometotownormydadvisits.He’susuallyhereonceinthesummerandduringtheholidays.NowthatI’mworkingfortheNHL,theremightbeopportunitiesformetogoouthiswaymoreoften,evenifthevisitsarebrief.
“I’mjustdownthere.”Ipointtothedoorattheendofthehall,thentheoneacrossfromus.“Andthebathroomisjustthere.I’llleaveyouatoothbrush.Butyoudon’thavetostay.Ifyou’drathergrabanUber,Iwouldtotallyunderstandandreimburseyou.Idon’twantthistobeawkwardforyou.”
“I’llfeelbetterknowingthatifanythinghappens,I’mheretohelp.Unlessyou’dpreferIgohome.”Shechewsherbottomlipnervously.
I’mguessingthisneedtomakesureI’mokayhassomethingtodowithwhathappenedtoherdad.“Itrustyou,Kitty.”
“Okay.That’sgood.”Shegivesmeashysmile.
“Wilfredsleepsinmyroom,soyoudon’thavetoworryabouthimbuggingyou.”He’sleaningagainstmyleg,tailwagging,whiningquietly.Hehasadogbedinmyroom,buthalfthetimeIwakeupwithhisheadonthepillowbesideme.Ishouldn’tlethimgetawaywithitasmuchasIdo,butwhenhegivesmehispuppy-dogeyes,it’shardtosayno.Also,Idon’thaveagirlfriend,sotherereallyisn’tareasontokickhimoutofbed,apartfromhishavingbadbreath,anyway.
“I’msurehealwayswantstobewhereyouare.Anddogscansensewhenthere’ssomethingupwiththeirowners.Catsarethesame.”Hersmilewavers,andshelooksdownatherhandsandtwiststheringonhermiddlefinger,thennodstowardtheotherendofthehall.“Anyway,enoughofmynattering,offtobedforyou.”
“’Night,Kitty.”
“’Night,Miles.”
TheexhaustionsweepsovermeagainasIstepintomybedroom.Imanagetogetmydressshirtandmypantsoff,butIdon’tbotherbrushingmyteethbeforeIclimbintobed,oddlyreassuredthatKittyisdownthehall.chapternineALLTHEEMBARRASSINGMOMENTSMiles
Iwakeuptoawetnoseagainstmycheekandterriblebreath.Myeyespopopen,andWilfred’sconcernedfacecomesintofocus.“Hey,buddy.Isittimeforbreakfastalready?”Iscratchbehindhisearandrolloverontomyback,glancingattheclockonthenightstand.
Myalarmissettogooffintwominutes.
It’stypicalformetowakeupacoupleofminutesbeforemyalarm,mostlybecauseWilfredfunctionslikeadogalarm.Histailthumpsonthefloor,clearlyexcitedthatit’smorningandhisbowlwillbefullassoonasIgetmyassoutofbed.
Iclosemyeyesagain,positiveIcouldfallbacktosleepandstaythatwayforseveralmorehours.ButhiswhimperandanothernosenudgeremindmethatifIstaywhereIam,I’mgoingtogetafacebath.Withatonguethat’slikelylickedasetofballsrecently.Seemslikemaybecatsanddogsaren’tallthatdifferentafterall.
Ithrowmycoversoffandtrudgetothebathroom.AnaggingfeelingthatI’mforgettingsomethingimportantticklesthebackofmymind,butI’mstillgroggyandonlyhalfawake.Wilfredfollowsalongandplunkshimselfdowninthemiddleofthebathroom,tailwagging,pantinghappilyashewatchesmeanglemysemidownandrelievemyself.IcheckmyreflectioninthemirrorasIwashmyhands.
Theallergicreaction.Myfaceisbacktonormal,nomorepuffylipsorhives.I’dliketofindoutsoonerratherthanlaterwhatexactlyI’mallergictosoIcanavoidasubsequentreaction.IfthisiswhathappenseverytimeItrytofillabox,cleaningoutmymother’shouseisgoingtobeaserioushazardtomyhealth.
Ileavemyworriesinthebathroomandheaddownthehall,Wilfred’snailsclippingalongonthefloorashetrotsafterme.WhenIreachthekitchenI’msurprised—butprobablyshouldn’tbe,asmemoriesoflastnightfilterthrough—tofindKittysittingatmykitchentablewithacoffeecupinherhandandyesterday’spaperinfrontofher
“Hey.”Irunahandthroughmyhair.
Shestartlesandcoffeenearlysloshesovertherimofhercup.Sherecovers,though,andhergazeliftsfromthepapertome,standinginthemiddleoftheopen-conceptlivingroom.Hereyesflareandmoveoverme,cheeksburstingwithcolor.“Oh!Hi!”Hervoiceishighpitched,andhergazedartstotheside,thenbouncesbacktomywaist,andawayagain.Herfacegrowsredderbythemillisecond.
WhichiswhenIrealizeI’monlywearingboxerbriefsandawhiteT-shirt,andI’mstillsportingmymorningsemi.
Idropahandinfrontofmycrotch.“Shit.Sorry.Iforgotyouwerehere.I’llberightback!”Ispinaroundandrushdownthehalltomybedroom.
Wilfredbarksonceandfollowsmehalfwaydownthehallbeforestopping,probablyconfused.
Imakesurehe’snotonmyheelsbeforeIslammydoorshutandberatemyselfforbeinganidiotandnotputtingonpantsbeforeIleftmybedroom.Butinmydefense,mybrainisslowandsluggish,probablyfromallthedrugstheygavemelastnight.
WhenIreturntothekitchen,Kittyisnolongersittingatthetable.ForasecondIthinkshe’sleft,ormaybeshe’shidinginthespareroom.ButIfindherontheothersideofthekitchen,nexttoWilfred’sbowl,whereshe’spouringkibbleintothedish.Hewaitsimpatiently,tailwaggingsovigorouslythathisentirebuttisswayingbackandforth.Shemurmurstohim,wordsIdon’tcatchbecausehervoiceistoolow.
Hewaitsuntilshegiveshimthego-aheadbeforeheshoveshisfaceinthebowl,tailexpressinghisdelight.Shegiveshimaquickpatonthebackbeforesheturnsaround.“Oh!”Hergazedartsfrommyfacedowntomywaistandbackupagainbeforeshiftingtotheside.“Hey.Hi.Imadecoffee.Ihopethat’sokay.”
I’mthankfulwe’regoingtoignorethesemiflashing.“Ohyeah,I’mgladyoumadeyourselfathome.Didyousleepokay?Thanksagainforlastnight.Iknowitprobablywasn’thowyouexpectedyoureveningtogo.”Neitherofusseemstobeabletoholdeyecontactformorethanamillisecond.
Thisfeelsalotliketheawkwardaftermathofaone-nightstand,butwithoutthesex.
AndsuddenlyanimageofKitty,naked,inmybed,wearingherleopard-framedglasses,popsintomyhead.Whichisaludicrousfantasy,consideringallI’vemanagedtobeforhersofarisagiantpaininthebutt.Iblinktwiceandtrytofocusonotherthings.LiketheenthusiasticsoundofWilfredsnort-eatinghisfood.
AknockatmydoorpreventsKittyfromresponding.
Iglanceattheclockonthestove.It’sjustafterseven.“I’llberightback.”
Sometimesmyneighbordownthehallborrowscreamorsugar.Ithrowopenthedoorandfindnotmyneighbor,butJosh,readytousethesparekeytolethimselfin.
“Hey,man,whyaren’tyoudressed?Wegottabeattherinkinanhour,andIwanttostopatthebakeryfirst.Ihaveahankeringforacinnamonroll.”Hebrushespastme,andIdon’thaveachancetowarnhimthatwe’renotalonebeforehereachesthelivingroomandcomestoanabrupthalt.“Oh.Hey.Hithere.Whydidn’tyoutellmeyouhadcompany?”HeglancesfromKittytome,oneeyebrowraised.
She’sstilldressedinyesterday’soutfit,butit’ssignificantlymorerumpled.Whichmeanssheprobablyhadtosleepinit.Ishouldhavegivenherashirtorsomething.Thenitwouldsmelllikeherperfume.
Iinwardlycringeathowcreepythatsoundsinmyhead.AndIrealize,belatedly,howthismustlooktohim.
“Ihadanallergicreaction,”Iexplain.
Hiseyebrowstrytotoucheachotheroverthebridgeofhisnose.
“IdroveMilestothehospital.Andthenhome.Andthedoctorssaidheshouldn’tbealone,soIstayedtomakesurehewouldn’tblowuplikeaballoonagain.I’mKitty.”Shestepsaroundthecounterandwipesherhandonherpantsbeforeextendingit.
Joshtakeshermuchsmaller,delicatehandinhis.Forreasonsthatmystifyme,itmakesmewanttopunchhimintheface.
“Hi,Kitty.It’snicetomeetyou.”Hegivesherhiscustomarysmirk.“I’mJosh.MilesandIworktogether.I’veheardalotaboutyou.”
AndnowIhavedifferent,lessterritorialreasonsforwantingtopunchhim
“Oh?”Hergazeslidesmyway,hertonedrippingsarcasm.“Allgoodthings,I’msure.”
Josheithermissesthesarcasmordecidestoignoreit.“Onlythebest.You’rekindofinternetfamous,aren’tyou?”
Shegigglesandwavesahandaroundintheair.“I’mnotfamous.”
“You’vegotaprettyhugefollowingonsocialmediaandsomerealdedicatedfans.”
Blesshersweet,innocentheart,Kitty’seyeslightup,asthoughshe’sfoundakindredspiritinJosh.“Areyouacatlover?”
Beforehecansaysomethinghighlyinappropriate,Iinterrupt.Unlikeme,Joshisaladies’man,andforwhateverreason,thatsmirkhehasshouldbepatentedasapantyremover.AndIdonotwanthimtryingtoremoveKitty’spanties.Ever.Orflirtingwithher.That’sarealizationI’mnotsurewhatIshoulddowith.
“Hey,uh,notthatthisisn’tawelcomesurprise.”Ihopehecatchesthehintofderision.“Butwhatareyoudoinghere?”
Hegivesmealook.“Wegottabeattherinkin—”Heglancesattheclockonthestove.“Fifty-fourminutes.”
That’sright.Hesaidthatwhenhefirstarrived.“Shit.”IglanceatKitty,standingafewfeetaway,lookingbeautifuldespiteherrumpledclothes.
“Icantakethetrainhome,”shesays.“IwantedtomakesurethatyouwerefeelingokaybeforeIleft,andyoudefinitelyare.”Hergazedipstomywaist,andhercheeksflushforwhatseemslikethemillionthtimethismorning.
Stupidbody,beingajerkandembarrassingusboth.
“Whydon’tyoutakemycar?”IblurtwithoutthinkingaboutwhatI’mofferingandwhoI’mofferingitinfrontof.
Josh’sheadwhipsaround.Idon’tmakeeyecontact,though,orevenglanceinhisdirection.Instead,IstaycompletelyfocusedonKitty.
She,however,doesglanceinJosh’sdirection.“Oh,uh,that’snotnecessary.It’sbeenawhilesinceI’vetakenthetrain.It’llbeanadventure.”
“I’mheadingyourwaytoseemymotherlaterthisafternoon.AndI’mtotallyusedtothetrain.Atthistimeofdayit’lltakeawhile,andthenyou’llstillhavetogetfromthestationbacktoyourcar.Andyou’vebeenmorethangenerouswithyourtime.”Igrabthekeysfromthecounterandholdthemouttoher.Thisistheperfectwaytogetmyselfoffhershitlist,showmyappreciation,andgetherawayfromJosh.“Seriously.Iinsist.You’reagreatdriver.Itrustyouwithmybaby.”
Heruncertainexpressionsaysitall
Istepcloserandtakeherhandinmine,flipitpalmup,anddropthekeysintothecenter,thenfoldherfingersaroundthem.Ishouldletherhandgoandstoptryingtoforcemycaronher.Butthere’snewenergyintheair.Allourpreviousbickeringandnegativetensionhasbeenwrappedinherkindness.Mypreviousfrustrationwithmysituationhasshifted.Thecontactiscompletelyinnocentandshouldnotinanywayinvokethedesiretoleaninandkissher,andyetIfindmyeyesdartingtoherlips.Whichshelicks.
“Okay?”Shesoundsmoreconfusedthananything.
“Ioweyouforlastnight.”Iliftmygazeandgetlostinherforest-greeneyesforseveralseconds.AtleastuntilJoshclearshisthroat.
Ireluctantlydropherhandandglancehisway.Itappearsasthoughhe’stryingtotelepathicallycommunicatehisthoughtsthroughhiseyebrows.
“I’llgrabmypurseandbeonmyway.Unlessyouneedanythingelse?”Kittycrossestheroomandpicksupheroversizedbagwithacatfaceonit.
“Nope!Allgood.I’lltouchbaselater.”Ican’ttellifI’mmakingthingsbetterorworse.
“Sure.”Sheslipsherfeetintohercat-printflats.“Iwantedtodiscussmepotentiallystayingthenightatyourmother’splace.IthinkpartofthereasonPrinceFrancishasbeensodestructiveisbecausehe’snotusedtobeingalonesomuch.Itmighthelptohavesomeoneinthehousewithhimatnight,andsincethat’snotsafeforyou,I’dbewillingtogiveitashot.Maybewecantalkthatthroughlater.”
“Yeah,absolutely.”IrushaheaddownthehallaheadofhersoIcanunlockthedoorforher.“Thanksagainforallyourhelp.Witheverything.Especiallythewholegettingmetothehospital.Dyinginmymother’shouseinapileofoldtrinketsisnotthewayIwanttogo.”Waytogo,Miles.Ruinaperfectlygoodthank-youbytalkingaboutyourpotentialdeath.
“I’mreallygladIwasthere.”Sheadjustsherpurseandgivesmeasmall,uncertainsmile.“Timingreallyiseverything.”
“Itis.Whoknowswhatwouldhavehappenedifyouhadn’tarrivedwhenyoudid.”Ineedtostopthinkingaboutthewhat-ifs.It’sfreakingmeout.“Andthanksagainforspendingthenight.”
Thesoundofacatmeowingoutasongcomesfromherpurse.Shedigsherphoneoutofherpurseandbringsittoherear.“Hello?”Shemakesarangeoffacialexpressionsasthevoicecomingthroughthephonerisesinvolume.“Oh,that’snotgoodatall.Haveyoutriedthesalmontreats?Thosearehisfavorite.”Shemakesakissfaceforamomentandthentapsherlip.Ialmostleanin,untilIrealizethisisherthinkingface.
“Hmm.Okay.Icanbethereinlessthananhour.Justuseyourcalmvoiceandtrytorelax.We’llgethimout.”Shereassureswhoevershe’stalkingtotwicemorebeforesheendsthecall.
“Iseverythingokay?”Clearlyit’snot,basedonthesideoftheconversationIheard,butIstillfeelcompelledtoaskforwhateverreason.
“Bumblesisstuckinthewall.”
“Thewall?”Iecho.“Howdoesacatgetstuckinawall?”
“I’mnotsure.ButMr.O’Toolehascataractsandhearingaids,soit’sverypossibleBumblesisn’tstuckinawallatall,andhe’sjustmanagedtoclimbintooneofthecupboardsagainandcan’tgethimselfout.”Shereadjustsherglassesagain.
“That’snotgood.”
“NotforBumbles,no.I’mgoingtoheadtherenow.Andthankyouagainforlettingmetakeyourcar.IpromiseI’lldrivewiththeutmostcaution.”ShetakesasteptowardmeandforreasonsIdon’tunderstand,Ithinkitmeansshe’scominginforahug.SoIopenmyarms.
Hereyesflare.Andinthatmoment,Irealizeshewasn’tcominginforahug,shewasjusttryingtogetaroundmebecauseI’mstandinginfrontofthedoor.ButI’mcommittedtoseeingthisthrough,evenwhenshemakesasurprised,squeakysound.
AsIwrapmyarmsaroundher,Imanagetoslammyelbowintothewall.Isuckbackthegroan,becauseIdon’twanttolooklikeIcan’thandlealittlepain,butman,hittingyourfunnybonehurtslikehell.Foracoupleofseconds,she’sfrozen,buteventuallyherarmscomearoundmywaist,andshepatsmeontheback.Hernosebumpsmypecbeforesheturnsherhead.Iwonderifshecanfeelorhearhowfastmyheartisbeating.IglancedownthehallandspotJoshpeekingaroundthecorner.Again,hiseyebrowsshootup.
Kittygivesmeabriefsqueezeandasshestepsback,hereyesareextrawide,andhercheeksareonceagainpink.“I’mgladyourfaceisbacktonormaltoday.Yourlipswerealreadykissable;youreallydidn’tneedthemtobeanyfullerthantheyareinthefirstplace.”Herownlipsgothin,anditlookslikeshe’sbitingthemtogether.“Ihavetogo!Haveagoodday!Staysafeandkeepbreathing!”
Iholdthedoorforherwhileshestepsintothehall.“Haveagoodday,Kitty!Thanksagain!”Sheglancesoverhershoulderandwaves,thendisappearsaroundthecorner,wheretheelevatorsare.
Joshisstandinginthelivingroom,oneofhismanicuredeyebrowspopping.Literally,it’sbouncingupanddownlikeacarwithhydraulics.Ihavenoideahowhedoesit.
“Dude.Youhavesomeexplainingtodo,butafteryougetdressed,becauseIwantacinnamonroll.”
“IneedtotakeWilfredouttousethebathroombeforeweleave,”Itellhim.
“Icantakehimwhileyougetready.”Joshgrabstheleashfromthehookonthewall.“Comeon,buddy,let’sgopeeonafirehydrant.”
Wilfredhustlesover,tonguelollingandtailwagging.
“Okay.Thanks.I’llberightback.”Itakeatwo-minuteshower,throwonafreshsuit,andmeetJoshinthehalltenminuteslater.Igrabmymessengerbagfromthecounter,giveWilfredapatonthehead,assurehimI’llbehomeatareasonabletimetonight,andthatMarkandJoewillbebysoontotakehimandHermanfortheirdailytriptothedogpark,thenIleavemyapartmentwithJosh.
Assoonaswe’reinJosh’ssportscar,hestartsfiringquestionsatme.“AreyoudoingthedirtywiththeKittyWhisperer?”
Igivehimalook.“No.”
“Shesleptatyourhouselastnight,andyou’retellingmenothinghappened?”
“Ihadanallergicreaction.Abadone.Iwasn’tinanyconditiontodoanythingbutbethankfulIcanbreathe.”
“Okay,backthisupandstartfromthebeginning.”Hemakesarewindmotionwithhisfinger.
SoItellhimthewholestory.
Hechuckles.“Well,there’saspecialbrandofironyrightthere.”
Ifrown.I’mstillspaceyfromtheantihistamines,Ithink.“Whatareyoutalkingabout?”
“You’rebasicallyallergictoyourgirlfriend.”
“She’snotmygirlfriend.”
“Shestayedthenightatyourhouse.”
“Inmyspareroom.BecauseIalmostdied.”
“Soyou’dbecoolwithitifIaskheroutonadate,then?”
“Overmydeadfuckingbody.”
Joshsmiles.“That’swhatIthought.”chaptertenALITTLEHAUNTED?Kitty
TurnsoutIwasrightaboutBumbles.Hewasstuckinthecupboard,ratherthanthewall.Hechewedthroughabagoffoodandateagoodportionofit,thendroppedadeuceinabasketofpotatoesnowdestinedforthegarbage.
WithBumblesmanaged,IdrivetoMiles’smother’splacetoswitchoutourcars—Idon’tknowwhyIdon’tjustrefertoherasTabithainmyheadsinceI’veseenhernameonhermail.MaybebecauseI’venevermether?PrinceFrancisisdispleasedwithmyshortvisit,butIpromiseI’llbebacklatertohangout.MynextstopishomesoIcanshowerandchangeintofreshclothes.
WhileI’mintheshowerIplayoverthepartinghugwithMiles.Itwasclumsy,mostlybecauseIdidn’texpectit.It’spossibleitwasagratitudehug,orareflexiveone.Regardless,Ienjoyedit.EverythingwaseasierwhenIbelievedhewasahotcat-hatingjerk.Nowourinteractionsaresteepedinawkwardness.
BythetimeI’mdoneintheshowerit’snoon.Momisdressedforworkatthebakery.Twoplatessitonthecounter,oneempty,onewithaBLTsandwich.Shepushesittowardme.“That’sforyou.”
“Thanks,Mom.”Ikissheronthecheekandpickuponeofthetriangles,takingabite.AllI’vehadtodaysofariscoffee.“Whendoesyourshiftstart?”
Shecheckstheclockonthestove.“Notuntiltwo,butI’monlythereuntilsix,soit’sashortone.”
Iswallowmybiteofsandwich.“I’msittingovernightforaclient,soit’sonlyyouandHattiefordinner.Speakingof,whereisHattie?”
“Shewenttothelibraryforastudygroupthismorning,andshehasanightclass,soshewon’tbehomefordinnereither.”
“Oh,that’sright.Icouldpopbyandhavedinnerwithyousoyou’renotalone,ifyouwant,”Ioffer.
“Youdon’tneedtodothat.Marieinvitedmeovertonight,soIthinkI’llaccept,sinceI’mgoingtobetheonlyonehere.”Shedrumsonthecounter.
Itrytohidemyshock,butIthinkitcomesthroughinmypitch.“That’sagreatidea!HowisMariethesedays?”Mariehasasonaroundmysister’sage.LastIheardhewasonscholarshipatauniversityoutofprovince.
“She’sgood.Tryingtokeepbusynowthatthehouseisempty.She’stakingaflower-arrangingcoursebecauseshe’sconvincedthereareweddingbellsinherson’sfuture.”
“He’sonlyHattie’sage.”
Momsmilesandshrugs.“Ithinkit’sprobablymoreabouttryingsomethingnewthananythingelse.SheaskedmeifIwantedtojoinher,andIthinkIwill.It’sonlyonenightaweek.It’llbefun.Besides,youandHattiearejustsobusythesedays.”
“I’mgladyou’llhavecompany.”It’sgoodthatMomismakingplanswithfriendsinsteadofspendingthenightinfrontoftheTVwatchingoldshows.
Momleavesforwork,andIpackanovernightbag.IstopatKat’stomanagesomepaperwork.Itisn’tmyfavoritepartofthejob,butatleastIcanhangoutwithKatforabitandfillherinontheexcitementofthelastfewdays.ShesitsintheofficewithmewhileIfilloutinvoices,andanew,adorablekittennamedSmushclimbsalloverher.He’saPersianwithacongenitalbirthdefectthatmakeshisfaceasymmetrical.Hehasthesweetestdisposition
“Thatmusthavebeenscary.”Kat’seyesarewideasIexplainmyunexpectedtriptotheemergencyroom.“Anaphylacticreactionsarenojoke.”
“Itwasaharrowingfifteenminutes,that’sforsure.AndnowI’mnervousabouthimcomingtothehouse.It’sweird,though,becausehe’sbeencomingtherefornearlytwoweeks,andit’sthefirsttimehe’shadanykindofreaction.Buthe’sgoingfortests,sohopefullyhe’llgetsomeanswerssoon,andIdon’thavetobeanxiousaboutitanymore.”
Katarchesabrow.“Soundslikeyou’vechangedyourtuneaboutthecat-hatingjerk.”
“Ithinkmaybewegotoffonthewrongfoot.”Ishrug.SinceI’vegottentoknowhimabitbetter,myimpressionisshifting.“NowtellmeaboutyourdatewithBrad.Ineedallthedetails.”Wehaven’tbeenabletomakeourschedulesalignrecently,sothisisthefirstchancewe’vehadtoreallysitdownandchatsincetheywentout.
Katfillsmeinonherdate,whichendedwithatoe-curlingkissandarequestforaseconddate.AfterI’mfinishedwithinvoices,wespendhalfanhourtakingvideoswithSmushandincludeafewofthekittenproductsforoursponsors,andthenI’mofftolovesomekitties.
LaterintheeveningImakeanotherstoptoseePrinceFrancis.ThesecondIslidethekeyinthelock,hemeowsfromtheothersideofthedoor.Icarefullypushitopen,andherushesontothefrontporch,weavesbetweenmyankles,thenpromptlythrowshimselfdownatmyfeetandstretchesout,littlepawscurlingashekneadstheair.
“How’smyfavoritenakedkitty?Wereyouagoodboytoday?”
Herollstohisfeetandscalesmyleg.Ipickhimup,andheimmediatelyrubshisfaceagainstmine,licksmycheekacoupleoftimes,andthenburrowsthroughmyhair,hiswhiskersticklingthebackofmyneck.Hestretcheshimselfaroundmyshouldersandhangsaroundthebackofmynecklikealivingstole.
Thelivingroomisinitsusualchaoticstatewithboxesoverturned,andtheremainingmantelgnomeslitterthefloor.
HiseartwitchesagainstmycheekasIsigh.“Oh,PrinceFrancis,whatamIgoingtodowithyou?”
Henudgesmewithhiswetnoseandlickstheedgeofmyjaw.Thenhetriestobitemyearlobebeforehestartspurring.Ironically,ordepressingly,dependingonhowonelooksatit,thisisthemostactionI’vegotteninalongtime.Apartfromtheunexpectedhugandtheaccidentalkey-retrievalpeengraze.IwishmyinteractionswithMileswereslightlylowerontheembarrassmentscale.
“We’rehavingasleepovertonight.Doesthatsoundgoodtoyou?”Irubhiswhiskerycheek.
Hemeowsandstartspurring,asthoughheunderstands.
IfeedPrinceFrancis,huntdownthevacuum,andsuckupthecatniptoythat’snowashreddedmess,beforeItacklethefallengnomes.
I’vejustfinishedcleaningupwhenIgetamessagefromMiles,indicatinghe’sstoppingbyinafewminutes.
Myheartratekicksupafewnotches,andofcourse,becausemybraindoeswhatitwants,animageofhimfromthismorningpopsintomyhead.Hishairwasasexymess,eyesstillheavywithsleep,lipsbacktotheirnormal,full,lusciouscondition.Hislong,leanlimbswerewrappedinarumpledwhiteT-shirtthathuggedhischestandshowedoffthehintofasix-pack.Ormaybeafour-pack,butI’veneverseenhimshirtless,soI’mtotallyguessing.
Buttherealshowstopperhappenedtobehidinginthepouchofhisboxershorts.He’dbeenrockingsomeseriousmorningwood.Andthelightblueboxershortscoveredinahockeypuckprintdidn’tdomuchtomasktheproblem.
Nowthathisjerkstatushasbeenshelved,andI’mnolongerirritatedbymyattractiontohim,I’mfindingitachallengenottothinkaboutwhathemightlooklikeminustheboxersandtheshirt.Thankstomyoveractiveimagination,I’mnervousaboutseeingMilesthisevening.I’malsoconcernedabouthisallergies.Soworried,infact,thatImeethimoutsideonthefrontporch.
He’swearingapairofblackdresspants,freeofanimalhair,andalightbluebutton-down—whichhappenstobethesamecolorashisboxersthismorning.Iquicklytrytocorralmyexcitedimagination,buthistieishockeythemedtoo,sotheimagepopsbackuplikeanuntamablegopher.
He’snotwearingasuitjacket,butasmygazeliftstohisfaceIfeelmyeyebrowsrise.Abluesurgicalmask,thekinddoctorswear,isloopedaroundhisearsandhangsunderhischinlikeafabricbeard.
“Hey.”Heraisesahandashewalksupthestepstothefrontporch.
“Hi.Howwasyourday?”Imakeageneralmotiontohisface.
Thiswasaloteasierwhenhisjerkinessinterferedwithhisattractiveness.NowwhenIlookathim,allIseeisthehotguyItookcareoflastnightwho’sgoingthroughatoughtime.
“Notbad.Justabittired.You’dneverknowIalmosthadabrushwithdeathyesterday.”
“It’sabitsurreal,Iimagine.”
“Yeah,kinda.”Hepullshishandfromhispocketandstartstorubhischin,butthemaskisintheway.“Ididsomeonlineresearch,andonesuggestionwastowearamasksoI’mnotbreathinginthedander.Ifthat’stheproblem,anyway.Butamaskisabarrierbetweenmeandwhateveriscausingtheallergy.Theinternetgurusalsosuggestedgoggles,buttheonlykindIhaveaccesstoareswimmingones,andIdrawthelineatwearingthoseoutsideoftheocean.”Heholdsupapairofbluesurgicalgloves.“ButIalsohavethese.”
“Itlookslikeyouraidedthenurse’sstationatahospital.”Ifhewaswearingapairofscrubshe’dlooklikeadoctor.
“Ihaven’tbeenthereyettoday,butthatwouldhavebeenalotcheaper.”Herollsupontheballsofhisfeet,thendropsbacktohisheels.
“Doyouwanttocomein,or…”Iletithang,unsurehowtoproceedandnervoushe’sgoingtohaveanotherallergicreaction.Onebrushwithdeathintwenty-fourhoursismorethanenough.
“I’vebeeninsidemymother’shousealotoverthepastcoupleofweeks,andyesterdaywastheonlytimeIhadareactionlikethat.I’msortofhopingit’saone-timething.”Thewayhisvoiceliftsattheendmakesitsoundlikeaquestion.
“DoyouhaveyourEpiPenwithyou?”
“Yup.”Hepullsitoutofhisshirtpocket.
Inodandblowoutabreath.“ThisfeelsalotlikeI’msendingyouintoaburningbuilding.”
“I’msureeverythingwillbefine.”Herunshishandsoverhisthighsandpullsthemaskuptocoverhisnoseandhisluscious,fulllips.It’salmostareliefthatIdon’thavetolookatthemanymore.
Istepbackandallowhimtoopenthedoor.
Idon’tknowwhatIexpecttohappen.MaybeforhimtoblowupandturnbluelikethegirlinCharlieandtheChocolateFactorywhensheeatsthegumthattasteslikeafour-coursemealwithblueberrysomethingorotherattheend.
Buthecrossesthethresholdanddoesn’timmediatelystartgaspingforair.Heleaveshisshoeson,ahabitI’vegottenintoaswell,thankstoPrinceFrancisandhistwitchypaws.
Whenhereachesthelivingroomhestops,toesaninchawayfromthecarpetedfloor.Hiseyebrowsliftandhisheadturnsmyway.“Wasthisplacecleanwhenyougothere?”
“Itidiedup,”Iadmit.
Nowhiseyebrowspulltogether.“Youdidn’thavetodothat.”
“Iwashereearly,anditonlytookafewminutestoputeverythingaway.”Ortossitinthegarbage.
Henodsonce,likethatmakessense.“YoumentionedstayingovernighttomonitorPrinceFrancis.Doyouthinkyoustillneedtodothat?”
“Itdependsonhowmuchlongerhe’sonhisown.Yousaidyouhadanappointmentatahome?”Ikeepwaitingforhimtomakeacommentthat’sgoingtothrowhimbackintojerkterritory,butsofarsogood.
Henodsandglancesatthesmartwatchdecoratinghiswrist.“Iwantedtostopbyhereandcheckinwithyoufirst.”
“Areyoutakingyourmotherwithyou?”Idon’tknowwhyI’msoinclinedtoaskpersonalquestions,butIguessit’sbetterthanbringingupwhathappenedthismorning.
“I’mnotsurehowshe’sgoingtoreact,soIfigureditwasbetterformetocheckitoutbeforeItakeheronatour.”Headjustshismaskandtucksahandinhispocket.“I’llshowyouthespareroombeforeIgo,soyoucangetsettledin.KindaweirdthatI’mdoingthistwodaysinarow,althoughIdon’tremembermuchaboutlastnight,somaybeyoufoundthespareroomonyourown?”
“Youshowedme.Youwereagracious,albeitgroggy,host,”Iassurehim.
“That’sgoodtoknow.”Heleadsmeuptheshortstaircasetothesecondfloor.Therearefivedoorsuphere.Oneisabathroom;anotherisalinenclosetwithfreshsheetsandtowels.“That’smymother’sbedroom.ItbasicallylooksthesameasitdidwhenIwasakid.”Milesmotionstothebedwithanoldquiltthatremindsmeoftheearlytwothousands.
Hemovestothedooracrossthehall.Thehingescreakashepushesitopen.“Idon’tthinkthisroomhasbeenupdatedsinceIwasateenager.”Heflicksonthelight.
“Thiswasyourbedroom?”Isoakupthespace,tryingtoimagineateenageversionofthemanstandinginfrontofmelyingonthatdoublebed.
“Itwas.Aftermyparentsseparated,Istayedhereeveryotherweekendthroughmyteenyears.Idon’tthinkanyoneelsehaseversleptinhere.”
Thecomforterishockey-playerinspired.Thepillowshavethesamepattern.Acrosstheroomisadresserwithadigitalclock,butnothingelse.
Inthecornerisasmalldeskandanoldcomputermonitor,alsocircatheearlytwothousands.Apartfromaposterwithamotivationalphraseabovethedesk,thewallsarebare.Itdoesn’tlooklikemuchhaschangedinthelastdecade.
IwonderwhatyoungMileswaslike.Washestudious?Didhehaveearly-morninghockeypracticeonweekends?Iglanceatthebedagainandbecausemymindisbeingajerk,IpicturetheversionofMilesIknowlyingonitinonlyhisboxers.
WhenIspeak,Isoundlikeasqueakytoy.“Thisisgreat.Thanks.”
Herubsthebackofhisneck.“I’mnotsurewhenthesheetswerechangedlast,sowecangrabafreshsetfromthelinenclosetifyou’dlike.”
Withthenon-PGqualityofmycurrentthoughts,Idon’tthinkit’sagoodideatobenearabedwithMiles.“That’sokay.Icanmanage.Whattimedidyousayyourmeetingatthehomeis?”
Heglancesathiswatch.“Crap.Inlessthanhalfanhour.IgottarunifI’mgoingtogetthereontime.I’llmessagelater,though.”
“Letmeknowhowitgoes.”
“Soundsgood.”Heturnshisheadandraiseshisarm,coughingonceintohiselbow,buthisfaceisstillcoveredbythemask.
“Ohno!Isithappeningagain?Youneedtogetoutofhere!”Twoallergicreactionsback-to-backwouldbebad.Igrabhimbythefreearmanddraghimdownthehall.ApparentlyI’mthebiggestklutzinthehistoryoftheuniversebecauseIlosemyfootingonthestairs.
Ontheupside,insteadofpullingMilesdownalongwithme,hemanagestosnagmearoundthewaistwithhisfreearm.Welandinaheaponourbutts,mebetweenhislonglegs.
“I’msosorry!”Itrytoscrambletomyfeet,buthisarmisstillwrappedaroundmywaist.
“I’mfine,Kitty.I’mnothavinganotherreaction.Ijustinhaledahairorsomething,anditmademecough.”Foramoment,hisarmtightensaroundme,andIswearIfeelhisnoseinmyhair,butthenthatcouldbebecauseoftheawkwardpositionwe’rein.
“Oh.Wow.Iturneverythingintoamedicalcrisis,don’tI?”Ifmyvoicecouldturncolors,itwouldberedwithembarrassment.
MilesreleasesmeandIpushtomyfeet,movingdownacoupleofstepssohehasroomtostand.“Well,tobefair,yesterdaywasfreakyforbothofus,soyourconcernisunderstandable.Arepeatwouldnotbewelcome.”
Hefollowsmetothefoyer,andIstepoutsideontothefrontporchwithhim.
Heunhooksthemedicalmaskfromaroundhisearsandtucksitintohispocket.Histonguerunsalonghisbottomlip,commandingmyattention.“Thanksagainforeverything,Kitty.Andespeciallyforstayingthenight.Hereandatmyplace.Irealizeweprobablygotoffonthewrongfoot,andIkeptstickingmineinmymouth.There’sagoodchanceI’llstillkeepdoingthat,thefoot-in-mouththing,butit’snotintentional.”
I’mstillstaringathislips,ponderingtheirkissability,soittakesmeseveralextrasecondstorespond.“Icouldhavebeenmoreempathetictobeginwith.Noteveryoneisanaturalcatlover.AndI’mhappyIcouldhelplastnightandtonight.”
“Me,too.ImeanI’mhappytoo,aboutyouhelping.”
Wesmileateachotherforafewseconds.
“Goodluckatthehome.Ihopeit’stherightfitforyourmom.”Idon’tknowwhattodowithmyhands,soIwrapthemaroundme,likeI’mgivingmyselfahug.
“Me,too.”Hepullshiskeysoutofhispocketandflipsthemaroundhisfinger.“I’dsayhavefunwithPrinceFrancis,butconsideringhowmuchdamagehecauses,Idon’tknowthattonightisgoingtobeallthatawesomeforyou.”
“I’msurethatwhenherealizesthere’salaptooccupy,he’llbefine.”Ipointtomycrotchandrealizetoolatethatit’sinappropriate.TalkingtoMileswaseasierbeforemyhormonestookoverandmademestupid.
Hestutter-stepstothewalkwayanddoesatwo-stepthingonthewaytohiscar,stillflippinghiskeysbetweenhisfingers.Iwaituntilhe’spullingoutofthedrivewaybeforeIgoinside.
Idecidethattheeveningwouldbestbespentoncattraining.SoIpulloutmyprogrammablebuttonsandgettoworksettingthemup.Thefirstbuttonistheeasiestonetoinspiretraining:Treat.Isettlecross-leggedonthefloorandshakemybagoftreats.PrinceFrancistrotsoverandheadbuttsthebagoftreats,whichItuckawayinmypocket
Ipressthebutton,anditsays“Treat”inmyvoice.ItgetshisattentionthewayIwantitto,andhesniffsthebutton,lookingfrommetoitandbackagain.
ForthenexthourIsitwithPrinceFrancisandteachhimtopressthebuttonifhewantsatreat.Hegetsthehangofitbytheend.
Afterward,Imakeusbothdinner,andthenwesettleintowatchamovie.Miles’smotherhasgreatsatelliteTVandaccesstoloadsofmovies,soIputonTheSecretLifeofPets,andPrinceFrancismakeshimselfcomfortableinmylap.
Afterthemovie,IchangethesheetsonMiles’schildhoodbedandgrabmypillowfromthecar.I’vejustchangedintomyjammieswhenmyphonebuzzeswithamessagefromMiles.
Miles:Howisthedemonchild?
Igrinandsendhimagifofasphynxcatlookingsinister,thenanotherofacatlookingangelic.
Kitty:Hewasonhisbestbehavior.
IfollowitwithavideoofPrinceFrancispressingtheTreatbutton,thenlookingupatmeexpectantly.
Igetaslewofshockedfacegifsinresponseandthenmyphonerings.
“Youtaughthimhowtoaskfortreats?CanIgetmydogtodothat?”Milesasksbywayofgreeting.
“Ohyeah,Wilfredcandefinitelylearn.Youjustneedpatienceandtime.”
“You’reamazing,Kitty.”
“He’sfoodmotivated,andItookadvantageofthat.I’lladdmorebuttons,butthisisagoodstartingpoint.”Iglanceatmyreflectioninthemirror.Mynipplesarepeakedagainstthefabricofmynightshirt,andnotbecauseI’mcold.I’mgladthisisaphoneconversationandMilescan’tseemyface,ortherestofme.“Howwasthetourofthehome?”
“It’saniceplace.I’mgoingtobringmymotherbacktoseeitinacoupleofdays.”
“That’swonderfulnews!”
“Yeah,theyhaveagreatstaffandvaryinglevelsofcare,whichisexactlywhatmymomneeds.Anyway,IjustwantedtocheckonyouandPrinceFrancis.Tomorrownighttheteamhasahomegame,butI’llbeabletopopbythenextdayifthatworksforyou.Canyoutextmeinthemorning,though,toletmeknowhowitgoes?”
“Icanabsolutelydothat.”
“Great.Thanksagain,Kitty.Youreallyarealifesaver.”
“It’sreallynoproblem.Haveagoodnight,Miles.”
“You,too,Kitty.”
Iendthecall,turnoffthelight,andclimbintobed.Ihaven’tdoneanovernightcat-sitinalongtime,andit’sawelcomechangeinroutine.IttakesallofthirtysecondsbeforePrinceFrancishopsupontothebed.Hemakeshimselfathomeonthepillownexttome,onepawcoveringthebackofmyhand.
IdriftofftosleepwithasmileonmyfaceandvisionsofMilesinhisboxershortsplayingbehindmyeyelids.
Extremelyloudyowlingstartlesmeawake.Iboltuprightinbed,confusedasItakeinmysurroundings,becauseI’mnotinmyownbedroom,andIdon’townacat.Foramoment,I’mthrustintothepast,tothedaymyfatherpassedaway.Smokeyhadbeenyowlingthesameway,thesoundforlornandmelancholic.
IttakesmeagoodthirtysecondstogetmybearingsandrememberwhereIam,andthatthecatisn’tSmokey,butPrinceFrancis.
Ithrowthecoversoffandpadacrossthefloor,ashiverrunsdownmyspinewhenIhitacreakyspot.Iflickonthehalllightandwaitformyeyestoadjust.
IspotPrinceFrancis,sittinginfrontofthecloseddoorleadingtooneoftherooms.
“What’sgoingon,buddy?”Hedoesn’tlookmyway,justkeepsupwiththeloud,melancholyyowls.Hestretchesout,hisnailsslidingdownthewood,makingamutednails-on-chalkboardsound.Icallhisnameacouplemoretimes,buthecontinuestoignoreme.
Ipaddownthehall,consideringmyoptions.Idon’twanttogosnoopingaround,buttheremustbeareasonPrinceFrancisisinfull-oncaterwaulingmode.Maybethere’samouseinthere,oranotherrodent.
BeforeIopenthedoor,IscoopPrinceFrancisupandtuckhimunderonearmsohecan’tgorunningintherebeforeI’vehadachancetomakesureit’ssafe.He’slikeasquirmybaby,butI’mnottakingchances,sinceMiles’smomisasemi-hoarder,andovertheyearsI’velearnedthatsomepeoplehaveroomsfullofboxesthattheykeephiddenfromtherestoftheworld.
Iturntheknobandthedoorcreaksopenslowly,exactlyasitwouldifwewereinahorrormovie.Iflickonthelightandamrelievedwhenthere’snomaskedmanwieldingaknife.It’snotahoarderlair;it’sanotherbedroom.IsetawrigglingPrinceFrancisonthefloor,andhezoomsacrosstheroom,jumpsuponthebed,launcheshimselfontothedresserandthenbackontothefloor,yowlingwhileItakeinthespace.
It’sachild’sbedroom.Notaninfant,butayoungboymaybe.There’satwinbedinonecornerdecoratedwithadarkcomforterwithaSpider-Mantheme.Thewholeroomlookslikeanhomagetosuperheroes.Milessaidhewasanonlychild,soIhavenoideawhattomakeofthisroom.
PrinceFrancisstopszoomingandplunkshisbuttinfrontofthewall.Andhestartsbackupwiththemelancholymeowing,butthistimeit’sdirectedatnothing.AndwhenItrytopickhimup,hehissesandfollowswithanadmonishingswat.
Enticinghimwithtreatsdoesn’twork.Ataloss,Ileavehimwhereheis,certainhe’llstopeventually.HalfanhourlaterPrinceFrancisisstillyellingatthewall,andI’mconvincedthehouseishaunted.chapterelevenTHEPIECESOFWHOWEAREMiles
Icheckmyphoneformessagesonmywaytothebathroom.Inthepast,I’dwaituntilmycoffeewasbrewingbeforeItouchedmyphone,butnowthatPrinceFrancisandKittyarepartofmylife,Ilookforwardtotheregularupdates.
KittyoftensendsgifsandpicturesofherandPrinceFrancis.Thismorning’spicturewastakeninmychildhoodbed,KittysmilingsleepilyatthecameraandPrinceFranciscurledaroundthetopofherhead.Underneathisthecaption:likemynewhat?
Butunderthatcaptionareseveralothermessages,sentaboutanhourago.
Kitty:Question:isyourmother’shousehaunted?
Kitty:AnotherQuestion:isthereachildlivingherethatIdon’tknowabout?
Kitty:Questionthree:isitpossiblethattherearethingshidinginthiscloset?
UnderthelastquestionisapictureoftheclosetinmyyoungerbrotherToby’sroom.
Kitty:Suchassmallcrittersand/orpossiblyaportaltoanotherdimensionthroughwhichtheundeadcanmaketheirwayintoourrealm?
Idragahanddownmyface.IprobablyshouldhavefilledKittyinonthewholestorywhenitcomestomyfamily,buttalkingaboutmyyoungerbrotherisn’tparticularlypleasant.Also,Idon’tthinkmymother’shouseishaunted,butIhaven’tlivedthereinalotofyears,soIsupposeanythingispossible.I’veneverreallyputmuchstockintotheideaoftheundeadcomingbacktocreeppeopleout.ButIdon’tdiscountthepossibilityofalienlifeforms,soIsupposeIcan’texactlydiscountundeadones,either.
IdecideIneedashowerandafewminutesofmentalpreparationbeforeItacklethequestionsfromKitty.
FifteenminuteslaterI’mstandinginmykitchenasIhitCallonhercontact.Sheanswersonthesecondring.
“Hey,holdon,I’mdealingwithsomebadbehavior.”Thephonethumpsonwhatmustbeahardsurface.“Onemoretime,ChumbleBuns,andyou’regettingthespraybottle.I’mserious.Nomoreclimbingthecurtains.Yourmomwouldbevery,verydisappointedinyouifshecouldseeyounow.”
Ihearsomemorerustlingaroundandthen,“Itoldyou,andyoudidn’tlisten.”
It’sfollowedbyahissandloudmeow,thenfeetpatteringonthefloor.AmomentlaterKittyheavy-breathesinmyear.“DoyoumindifIcallyoubacklater?IneedtomakesureChumbleBunsisn’tabouttoknockeverylastthingoffthekitchencounterinafitofcatrage.”
“Sure.I’mtakingmymothertoseethehomelater.Icouldcallafter?Icanevenstopby.”Thisisprobablyabetterconversationinperson,anyway.“CanIaskwhathappenedlastnight,though?Evenifit’stheabridgedversion?”
“Yestostoppingbylater.Justshootmeamessagewhenyou’reonyourway.AndPrinceFranciswasbasicallyscreaminghisheadoffwantingtogetintothatroomwiththecloseddoor.SoIlethimin,andthenheyelledatthewallforacoupleofhours.Ididn’tknowwhattomakeofitandwaskindofworriedthattherewasamissingchildsomewherebecauseitlookslikeakid’sroom?”Thatlastsentenceisphrasedasaquestion.
“Likeitbelongstoayoungboy?”
“Yeah,butfromliketwodecadesago.”
Iblowoutabreath.“I’llexplainlater.”
“Okay.Igottago!”Andwiththatsheendsthecall.
ThetoastIwasinthemiddleofmakingwhenIcalledKittynolongerseemsappealing.Islatheritwithbutter,though,awarethatthismorningisteampractice,andthenteambrunch,followedbymyallergistappointmentandthenanearlygame.IfIdon’tputsomethinginmystomach,it’llbehardtofocusonmyjob.
Asitis,it’sgoingtobetoughnottoletmymindwander.
Idon’tliketalkingaboutmyyoungerbrother.
It’salltiedupinthereasonmyfamilyfellapart.AndIoftenfeellikeallthatlosscontributedtomymom’sfragilementalstate.
Istandatthecounter,countingmybreaths,willingthememoriestostayonlockdown.Oncemyemotionsarebackundercontrol,IgetreadyforworkonautopilotandpickupJoshonthewaytothearena.
“Hey,man,how’syourgirlfriend?When’sshesleepingoveragain?”Joshneedlesmethesecondhe’sinmycar.
Iwaituntilhe’sbuckledinbeforeIpullawayfromthecurb.
“Whatisthis,middleschool?Getoffmyjock.”I’mclearlymoodyasfuckthismorning.
IcanfeelJosh’sfrownwithoutevenlookinghisway.
“Whopissedinyourcornflakes?”
“Noone.”I’msnippyandshort.Andonedge.
“Whyareyoulying?I’vebeenyourbestfriendsinceseventhgrade.Youcan’tbullshitme.”
Isigh.“Kittystayedatmymother’splacelastnightsoshecouldkeepaneyeonPrinceFrancisinhopesthathewouldbecomealessdestructiveasshole,andshefoundToby’sroom.”
“Okay.”Hewaitsformetocontinue.
“Itdoesn’tsoundlikeit’schangedatallsincemyparentssplit.”Igripthewheelandtrynottogrindmyteeth.Idon’tneedanappointmenttothedentisttoroundoutthisshit-tasticsituation.IbrakefortheredlightandglanceatJosh.
Hiseyebrowsalwaystellastory.Oneisarchedupunderhishair,theotherisflatacrossthetopofhislefteye.“Doyoumeanit’sstilldecoratedforaneight-year-old?”
“Yeah.Seemsthatway.”
“You’vebeenthereplentyoftimes.Howdidn’tyouknowthis?”
“Mymomalwayskeptthedoorclosed,andIneverhadtheimpulsetolook,”Iadmit.AndmaybeIwasburyingmyheadinthesandabouthowmuchmymothercontinuedtostrugglewithwhathappened.
It’sJosh’sturntosigh.“Man,that’s…rough.Areyouokay?Doyouneedtogrababeerorsomethingafterthegametoday?Wecouldhavedrinks,lotsofthem.Getgoodandshitfacedifyouwant.”Joshwasaroundfortheaftermathofthesplit,butnotwhathappenedleadinguptoit.Still,heknowshowharditallwasformebackthen.Andstillseemstobe,despiteitbeingnearlytwentyyearsago.
“Ican’t.I’mtakingmymothertothehomesoshecancheckitout.AndthenIneedtoexplainittoKitty,sinceapparentlyPrinceFranciswasbeingaloudassholelastnight,standingoutsideToby’sdoorandmakingallkindsofnoise.Anyway,I’lltakearaincheckonthedrinks.Let’schangethesubject.Ineedtofocusonsomethingelse.”Itaponthesteeringwheel,wishingIcoulderasethethoughtsinmyheadandthehistoryattachedtothem.
“Okay,I’lldropitfornow,butweneedaguys’nightsoon.”
Inodmyagreementandswitchconversationgears.“I’vebeenanalyzingParker’sperformancethelastcoupleofgames,andIthinkI’vefiguredoutapatterninhisplays.”IfeellikeIshouldhavemadetheseconnectionssooner,butwitheverythingelsethat’sbeenhappening,myfocushasbeensplit,whichisn’tgreatatthebeginningoftheseasonwhenthefirstgamescansetthetonefortheseason.
Joshrollswithit.“Okay.Layitoutforme.”
“Sixty-sevenpercentofthetimehepassestotherightwinginsteadoftheleftwingplayers.ItseemslikeMontrealfiguredthatout,sotheykeptputtingtheirstrongestplayersontherightduringthelastgame.”
Joshissilentforamomentbeforehemutters,“Damn.You’reright.Whydidn’tweseethatlastgame?”
Becausemyheadisallovertheplace,andIdidn’tputittogetheruntilIwatchedthereplaysandmadenotesonParker,butIkeepthatparttomyself.“Therewerealotofchippyplaydistractions.ButwhenParkerreliesontheleftwingforpassing,he’sfiftypercentmorelikelytomakeashotonnet.Especiallyifhe’sonthesamelineasMason.IfwecanmakeParkerawareofthepattern,wecanstarttouseittotheteam’sadvantage.”
“Okay,thisisgoodstuff,Miles.WecantalktoCoachDavisaboutthisandmakeaplantotackleitwithParker.”
Parkerisyoung,andvery,verygoodontheice.Buthe’salsoaGenZkid,andhisentirelifehe’sbeentoldhe’samazingbyhisparents.It’sliketheyshoweredhiminfuckingconfettieverytimehewipedhisass.He’salwayslookingforpraise,andconstructivecriticismneedstobelayeredcarefullywithakidlikehim;otherwise,wecanshoothisgametoshit.
WemeetwithCoachDavisbeforepracticetoreviewtheanalyticsfromthelastgameandpullupthevideofootage,fast-forwardingtothegoalParkerscored.WhichhappenstobewhenhepassedtoMasonontheleft.
“IfwecangetParkertomakeafewadjustments,it’llgoalongwayinhelpingthisteamgetofftoasolidstartthisseason.”
CoachDavisclapsmeontheshoulder.“Thisisgoodstuff,Thorn.”
“Thanks.”Ibitebackthegrin,happytohaveawinamidthechaosthatiscurrentlymylife.WouldithavebeenbetterifI’dmadetheconnectionbeforelastgame?Absolutely,butit’sastepintherightdirectionandprovingmyselfanassettotheteam.
DavispullsParkerasideandgiveshimsomepointers,anditworks,whichelevatesthepositiveenergyontheice.It’sagoodheadspacefortheplayerstobeinwhenthey’reheadingintoagamethisevening.
Afterteambrunch,Ihavemyallergistappointment.
I’mnervous,especiallysinceit’ssandwichedinthemiddleofmyworkday,butifI’mstoppingatmymom’slater,I’dliketoknowhowbadthisallergyissoIcanplanaccordingly.
“Yousureyouwanttogoonyourown?”Joshasks.“Idon’tmindtaggingalong,incaseyouneedaridetothehospitalagain.OrdoyouwanttocallNurseKitty?”
Ishoothimalook.“You’regoingtorazzmeforeveroverthat,aren’tyou?”
“Ican’tbelieveshesleptatyourhouseandnothinghappened.”
“Ialreadytoldyou,Iwasn’tinanyconditiontotrytomakeamove.”Also,ourmutuallackofappreciationforeachotheronlyshiftedafterthehospitalfiasco.“Igottaroll.I’llbebackintimeforthegame.”
Hegoesbacktowatchingareplayoftheteam’slastgameagainstBoston,andIheadtomyallergistappointment.I’mabitanxiouswhentheydothescratchtestwithcatdander.Ialmostexpectmyarmtoswelltotwiceitssize.
Whileit’sclearIhaveacatallergy,it’snotthekindthatshouldcausemythroattocloseandpartsofmybodytoswell.IleavetheofficewithanitchyarmandtheknowledgethatIcanbeinmymother’shousewithoutasphyxiating.Unfortunately,Istillneedadditionalteststofindoutwhatcausedtheextremereaction.
ParkerplayslikeadreaminthegameagainstBoston,whichmeansIgetmorepositivefeedbackfromCoach.It’stheboostIneedbeforeIheadtothehospitaltopickupmymother.
Mymomhasbeenmovedfromaregularhospitalroomintooneoftheiron-siteshort-termcarewings.It’samiddlegroundbetweenahospitalandahome.Herinsurancecoversit,andwhileit’snotquitelikeanapartment,it’salsonotassterileasahospitalroom,either.
Mymomissittinginfrontofthewindow,staringoutattheparkinglot.She’sdressedinapairofjeansandasweater,herhairpulledbackinalowponytail.Sheusedtobraiditalotwhenwewereyoung,butI’mlearningthatwiththisdiseasethingsthatwereoncerotebecomedifficult,andsometimesimpossible.Shelooksnormaltoday,andIcrossmyfingersthatallthegoodofthisdaycontinueswithourvisittothehome.“Hey,Mom.How’sitgoing?”
Hereyeslightup,andforasecondIthinkmaybeit’salucidday.“Toby!I’msogladyou’rehere.”
DisappointmentisacrushingweightIdon’texpectanddon’tknowhowtohandle.IplasteronwhatIhopeisasemi-genuinesmile.“It’sMiles,Mom.”
“Miles?Oh.Yes.”Herexpressionshifts,confusionpullingherbrowstogetherasshelookspastme.“Whydon’tyoueverbringyourbrotheralong?Doesn’thewanttovisit,too?HowmuchlongeramIgoingtohavetostayhere?Isthatwhyhewon’tvisit?BecauseI’mhere?”
Iavoidthequestionsaboutmybrother,becausetheytendtocausememoreheadachesandhermorestress.Instead,IfocusonthestuffIcananswer.“We’regoingtolookatanapartmenttonight,sohopefullyyou’lllikeitthere.”
“Anapartment?ButIhaveahouse.”
Idon’tunderstandhowshecanknowshehasahousebuthalfthetimethinksI’mmybrother.Iexplain,likeIdoeverytimeIseeher,thatthehouseisalottotakecareof,andthattheapartmentwillhaveprogramsandactivitiesandpeopletohelpmanage.
“ButIlikemygarden.AndsodoesPrinceFrancis.Howismyboy?Imisshim.WillIbeabletobringhimwithme?”Shefiddleswiththeheartnecklaceshewearsallthetime.ItwasaMother’sDaygiftfrommydadwhenourfamilywasstillintact.
“He’sgood,Mom.IhaveafriendnamedKittywho’shelpingmetakecareofPrinceFrancis,”Iremindher.SometimessherememberswhoKittyis,andsometimesshedoesn’t.Todayit’sapparentlythelatter.
“Afriend?Issheyourgirlfriend?Whydon’tyoubringherby,andwecanhavedinnertogether?”Shethreadsherarmthroughmine.“DoesMileshaveagirlfriendyet?Hewasabitofalatebloomer.”
Iremindmyselfit’snotmymother’sfaultthatherbrainisfailingherandsheforgetsourconversationfromaminuteago.Insteadofcorrectingher,Irollwithit.It’seasierforbothofusthisway,evenifitmakesmefeellikeshit.“Milesdoesn’thaveagirlfriend.”
Mymothertsks.“He’salreadythirty.Whatintheworldishewaitingfor?”
“Probablytherightgirltocomealong.”
Oncewe’resignedoutofthehospital,IhelpmymotherintomycarandmaketheshorttriptoRegencyVillage,theretirementcomplexwithvaryinglevelsofcare.It’slikeasmall,self-containedtownwithbungalowrowhousesforindependentliving.Therearealsofourlow-riseapartmentbuildingswithincreasinglevelsofcare,includingfull-timenursing.Mymother’scurrentsituationrequiresdailymonitoringandasupportworker.
We’regreetedbyakindwomanwholookstobeinherearlyforties.Shegivesusatourofthefacilities,andthenwe’reshownanapartmentliketheonemymotherwillhaveifwedecidethisistherightfit.
“There’sonlyonebedroom.Wherewillyousleep,Toby?”Mymotherlooksupatme,herexpressionreflectingherconcern.
She’sonlyinhermid-sixties.Howcouldthisbehappening?ThemoretimeIspendwithher,theguiltierIfeelfornotseeingthissooner.
“Ihavemyownplaceinthecity,Mom.”
“Oh.Hmm.Doyouworkinthecity?”sheasksfortheumpteenthtime.
“Yeah.I’madataanalystfortheNHL.”
“Oh.That’sgood.Ialwaysknewyou’ddogreatthings.”Shepatsmyhandandwandersaroundtheapartment.Sheopensthefridgedoorandfrowns.“Ineedtogogroceryshopping.There’snothingtoeat.Iwantedtomakeyouasandwich.”
AnysmallremaininghopeIhadthatmaybeshecouldhandlelivingonherowndisappears.Andsodoesthehopethatsheisn’tgoingtoneedasmuchsupportasthehospitalstaffwarned.“You’renotathome,Mom.We’reherelookingatanapartment.”EverydayfeelslikeGroundhogDay.Ican’timaginewhatthismustbelikeforher.Itwouldbeterrifyingtolosewhoyouaremostofthetime.Tonotknowwhereyouareorwhy.
Thereceptionistgivesmeasympatheticsmile.“Wouldyoulikeaminute?”
“Please.”Thisishardenoughwithoutanaudience,andtheemotionsareclawingatme,makingitevenmorechallenging.
Mymomwringsherhands.“Whycan’tIjustgobacktomyhouse?Idon’tunderstandwhywe’relookingatapartmentswhenIhaveaplacetolivealready.”
Igowithblunthonesty,whichisprobablytheworstthingIcandounderthecircumstances,butmyfrustrationwinsoutovermyempathy.“Becauseyouwerewanderingaroundthestreetinyourpajamas,andyoudidn’tknowwhereyouwere.”
Shefrownsandcrossesherarmsoverherchest.“Whatahorriblethingtomakeup,Toby.Iwouldneverleavethehouseinmypajamas!”
“Youhaveearly-onsetdementia,Mom.I’mnotToby.He’sbeendeadfortwentyyears.I’mMiles,yourotherson.Mostofthetimeyoudon’tknowwhoIam,andyouprobablywon’trememberthisconversationtomorrow.Orevenanhourfromnow.”Thetruthdoesn’tfeelgoodasitrollsoffmytongue;itfeelscruelandhurtfulandlikethelastthingIshouldsay,butit’salreadyoutandtoolatetotakeitback.
“You’retryingtoconfuseme!Whyareyouputtingmeinahome?WhatdidIdotodeservethis?”Shepushesbymeandheadsforthedoor,andIfollow,wishingI’dthoughtthisthroughbetter.Wishingthatmydaddidn’tliveontheothersideofthecountryandmybrotherwasheretohelpmewiththis.
Mymomissoagitatedthatshestartsyelling,andthenursesintervene.Theycallthehospitalandgetpermissiontogiveherasedativetocalmherdown.It’smyfaultshe’sreactinglikethis,becauseIcouldn’tholdmyfrustrationin,andIpushedtoomuchtruthonher.
Oneofthenursesgivesmyshoulderasqueeze.“It’snotherfault,andit’snotyourseither.Iknowit’shard,butthisisthebestandsafestplaceforyourmother.”
Idon’tknowthatIagreeaboutitnotbeingmyfault,butshe’srightaboutmymomneedingtobesomewheresafe.“I’llcomebacktomorrowandsignthepaperwork.”
BythetimeIdropmymotheroffatthehospitalI’mexhausted,butIstillneedtoheadbacktoherhouseandseehowKittyismakingout.Andexplainwhattheheckisgoingonwiththeroomshefound.Idon’tknowwhyIhaven’tbeenupfrontwithherinthefirstplace,otherthanIfeelkindoflikeajerkfornotseeingthesignsuntilitwastoolate.
Partofmewishesthatmydadhadhandledthingsdifferently.ThathehadtriedhardertohelpherafterTobydied.Thathehadn’tmovedsofarawayandleftmetodealwiththisonmyown.
Icallhimontheshortdrivefromthehospitaltomymom’shouse.“Hey,Miles,Isawthegamethisafternoon.Thatwasagreatwin.”
“Thanks.Parker’sreallygettinghisfeetunderhimthisseason.”Istartwiththeeasystuff,althoughthewinthisafternoonfeelslikeithappenedamillionyearsago.
“Thatyourdoing?Inoticedhe’schangedthingsupsincethelastgameagainstOttawa.”MydadwastheonewhoalwaystookTobyandmetohockeygames
“Mm.Ijustassessthedataandgivethosefindingstothecoach;managementandtheplayersdotherest.”
“Ithinkyouprobablyhadmoretodowithitthanthat,butit’sgoodyou’resettlinginwiththeteam.Withyouontheirside,theyshouldhaveabannerseason.”
“We’llsee.”Idrumonthewheel,notsurehowtosaywhatreallyneedstobesaid.
“How’sTabitha?Arethingsbetter?”
Icouldlie,butthereisn’tmuchofapoint.“Itookhertoseeanapartmenttonight,anditwastoughonher.”
“Howisitonyou?”Hisvoiceislacedwithconcern.
“She’shavingtroublestayinginthepresent.She’sgoingtoneedcare,morethanIrealized,”Iadmit.
“Howmuchcare?Isshegoingtoneedfinancialhelp?Areyou?”
“Herinsuranceshouldcoverit,”Iassurehim.“MostofthetimeshethinksI’mToby.”
He’squietforafewmomentsbeforehesays.“I’msorry,Miles.Ididn’trealizeitwasthisbad.Icouldtakesometimeoff,comevisit,andhelpwhileyou’regettinghersettled.”
Iconsiderthat:mydadcomingouthere,potentiallystayingwithme,helpingclearoutthehousehehasn’tsteppedfootinsincetheygotdivorcedwhenIwasateen.Asmuchasitwouldbenicetohavesupport,I’mnotsureit’sbetterforanyofus.“I’vegotithandled,Dad.”
“Areyousure?You’vegotalotonyourplatewiththisnewjobandnowyourmomneedingallthissupport.It’sokaytoaskforsomehelpifyouneedit.”
“Honestly,it’sokay.”Idon’tknowifthat’strue,butbasedonherreactiontothehome,Ican’tseeherdealingwellwithseeingmydad.“Onceshe’sintheassistedlivingfacility,it’llbefine.It’sjustgettingherthere.AndIhaveanetworkhere,soyoudon’tneedtoworryaboutme.Igottago,though.I’mcheckinginwiththecatsitter.”
“You’reagoodson.It’stimesliketheseIwishIlivedcloser.I’msorryyou’redealingwiththisonyourown.”
“It’sallright,Dad.I’llbeonthewestcoastsoonenough.Thanksforlistening.”
“Anytime,Miles.Whateveryouneed,I’mhereforyou.”
Iendthecallwithapromisetotalklaterintheweekwithanupdate.Woulditbegoodtohavemydadtoleanon?Maybe.Buthe’sspentalotofyearsseparatinghimselffromthepast,andforhimit’sbetterifitstaysthatway.And,moreselfishly,it’sprobablybetterforme,becauseIdon’tknowthatmymomcanhandlemoreofthepasthauntingher.chaptertwelveCOMFORTINCONNECTIONMiles
It’salreadywellaftereightbythetimeIarriveatmymother’splace,andIstillhaven’thaddinner.Ishouldhavestoppedtograbtakeoutonthewayover.AndaskedKittyifshewantedanything,althoughIassumeshe’salreadyeatenbythishour.
IknockonthedoorbeforeIletmyselfin,soIdon’tscarethecrapoutofher.Especiallysinceshe’sworriedaboutghosts.
“Hello!”Icallout.“It’sMiles!”
“I’minthelivingroom!”Kittyreplies.
IroundthecornerandfindKittyinmymom’slounger,PrinceFranciscurledupinherlap.I’menviousofthelittlegremlin.“IhopeIcomebackasacatoralapdoginmynextlife.”
“It’sthelife,isn’tit?Beingeternallycute,snoozingwhenyoufeellikeit,neverhavingtomakeyourownmeals.”ShescratchesbehindPrinceFrancis’sear,andhetipshischinupandheadbuttsherhand,tellingherhe’snotdonewithpets.“Howwasthehome?Didyourmotherlikeit?”
Ishrug,uncertainifIwanttogetintothiswithherornot.“Eh,shedoesn’treallyunderstandwhyshecan’tcomebackhere.”
Herexpressionshiftsfromhopefultosympathetic.“Ohno.I’msosorry,Miles.Doesthatmeanitdidn’tgowell?”
“It’sgoingtotakehersometimetogetusedtotheidea,butonceshe’sinthereandlivingtheretirementlife,I’msureshe’llbeokay.”MaybeifIkeeptellingmyselfthat,I’llwillittobetrue.
“Icanimagineit’sbeenalotforher,beinginthehospital,notreallyunderstandingwheresheisorhowlongshe’llbethere.”Kitty’sempathyissoothing,butitalsoreinforcesalltheworriesI’mstillnotsurewhattodowith.
“Yeah.Thiswholethingisalottogetmyheadaround,soIcanonlyfathomwhatit’slikeforher.”Idon’tknowwhenKittygotsoeasytotalkto,butthisisalotnicerthantheearlierbickeringmatches.
“Changeisscary.”
“Itis,isn’tit?Anyway.”Iwaveahandaroundintheair,notwantingtodragKitty’smoodintothedumpsalongwithmine.“Youhadsomeissueslastnight.Iprobablyshouldhavefilledyouinbeforenow,but,uh—Ihonestlydidn’trealizethatroomhadn’tchangedsincemyparents’divorce.”WhichsoundsdoublyhorriblesinceKittylostherdadandstuckbyhermomalltheseyears.Hell,shestillliveswithhersoshecanhelpwiththehouse.
“IthoughttheroomI’msleepinginusedtobeyours.”ShescratchesPrinceFrancisunderthechin.
“Itis.Itwas.Theotherroombelongedtomybrother.”
“Oh.Ithoughtyousaidyouwereanonlychild.”SheabsentlyscratchesbetweenPrinceFrancis’sears.“Doeshelivefarawayorsomething?”
Ishakemyheadandrubthebackofmyneck,tooover-whelmedwitheverythingtosoftentherevelation.“HediedwhenIwaseleven.”
“Ohmygosh.I’msosorry.”ShestopspettingPrinceFrancisandcarefullyliftshimfromherlap,settinghimonthelounger.It’sthenthatInoticethecatiswearingatinysweatshirt.“Ididn’trealize,”shesayssoftly
“Iprobablyshouldhavetoldyousooner.Idon’treallyliketotalkaboutit.Basically,whenthathappened,myfamilyfellapart.”
Shegivesmeasoft,sadsmile.“Igetit.Orsympathize,atleast,aboutnotwantingtotalkaboutit.Butmaybewecouldlookattheroomandmakesurethereisn’tanythinglivingintherethatshouldn’tbe?”Sheclaspsherhands.“Ididn’twanttogosnoopingaroundwhileyouweren’there.”
“Ishouldhavegiventhego-aheadtolookaround.”
“Eh,Isortofwantedbackup,incasetherereallyisaportaltoanotherdimensionbehindtheclosetdoor.”Shegivesmeahesitantsmile,andIreturnitwithoneofmyown.
“Let’shavealook.”Iinclinemyheadtowardthestairs.
Shefollowsmedownthehalltomybrother’sbedroom.MypalmsdampenasIapproachthecloseddoor,andIremindmyselfthatit’sjustaroom.Asamathandlogicperson,I’veneverputalotofstockintheideaofhauntedhouses.There’salwaysanexplanation.Sotherereallyisn’tareasonfortheheartpalpitations,orthesuddenrollinmystomach,apartfromthememoriesIcan’tletgoof.
Iturntheknobandpushthedooropen.Theblindsareclosed,theroomdark.Ireacharoundthecornerforthelightswitch,thenskimdown,becauseit’sbeenyearssinceI’vebeeninthisroom,andtheswitchisalotlowernowthatI’magoodfoottaller.
IexhaleinawhooshasItakeinthespace.“Maybethewholeroomisaportaltoanotherdimension,”Imutter.“Nothinghaschanged.Itlooksthesameasitdidthedayhedied.”
Irunahandthroughmyhairandgripthebackofmyneck.Alltheshould-havesandwhat-ifsaresurfacing.Ishouldhaveknownaboutthis.Ishouldhavebeenthereformymominsteadoflettingherpushusallaway.
Kitty’spalmsettlesbetweenmyshoulderblades.“Areyouokay?”
“Idon’tknowwhatIexpected,butitwasn’tthis.”IclearmythroatbeforeIcontinue.“It’slikeatimecapsule.Asnapshotofourliferightbeforeitchangedforever.”
“I’mheretolistenifyouwant,orifyouneedaminuteonyourown,justletmeknow.”
Shedropsherhand,andIreachbehindmeandfindthesleeveofhershirt.“Ifyouaren’tjustbeingniceandyoumeanthat,Iwantyoutostay.”
“I’mnotjustbeingnice.Tellmewhatyouneed,Miles.”Shesqueezesmyforearmgently.
“MymomalwayskeptthisdoorclosedwheneverIvisited,andInevercheckedhisroombeforenow,”Iadmit.“Itbringsupalotofpainfulmemories.”
“Iimagineitdoes.Howoldwasyourbrotherwhenhepassed?”
“Hewaseight.”
“Washesick?”Hervoiceissoftandwarm,likeablanketIwanttobewrappedin.
Ishakemyhead.“No.Hegothitbyacar.”
Shegaspsandherfingerswraparoundmine,squeezingoncebeforeshereleasesmyhand.“Oh,Miles.That’sawful.”
Inodslowly,notwantingtostepbackintimewiththememoriesI’vetriedsohardtoshoveinaboxandbury,butthelidpopsoffandthepastsurfacesallthesame.“He’djustgottenabrand-newbike.Iwasplayingvideogamesinthelivingroom,andheaskedifIcouldgooutsidewithhimbecausehewasn’tallowedtoridewithoutsupervision.Mymomwasinthebackyardinthegarden,pickingtomatoes.ThosearethesmalldetailsIremember.Ifoundthetomatoeslater,scatteredalloverthepatio.Shemusthavedroppedthemwhensheheard…”Ishakemyhead,wantingtostopthewords,butneedingtogetthemoutmore.“She’daskedmetokeepaneyeonToby.Mydadwasoutplayinggolfwithaclient.ItoldTobyIjustneededtobeatthislevel,andthenI’dcomeoutandwatchhim.Imusthavetakentoolong.”Icrossovertothedresser,whereastackofbookssits.Athinlayerofdustcoatsthetop,enoughtotellmethatmymommustcleanhisroomfairlyregularly.
“Hishelmetwasn’tonproperly,anditwasclosetodinnertime.Oneofourneighborsorderedpizza,andthedrivertookthecornertoofast.Tobydidn’tsuffer,atleast.”
“Thatmusthavebeensohorribleforyou.”Kitty’svoicetrembleswiththesameemotionsthatswirlinmygut.It’sanoddcomfort,knowingyourpainissharedwithsomeone.
“Ifeltresponsible.Stilldo,Iguess.Beatingthatlevelwassuchatrivialthing.SometimesIwishIwouldhavepressedPause.ThenTobywouldstillbehere.Andmaybeourfamilywouldn’thavefallenapart,andmymomwouldn’tbesolostinthepast.”
Kitty’shandsettlesonmyshoulder.“Youwereakid,Miles.It’snotyourfault.Butthewhat-ifsarethehardesttoletgoof.”
Iclearmythroatagain.Idon’tknowhowtorespondtothat,becauseinalotofwaysIfeellikeadifferentchoicemayhavechangedeverything.“Seeingthis…maybeshewantedtostayinthepast,whereshestillhadafamily.”
“Wherethegoodmemorieswere?”Kittyasks.
“Yeah.Itsortofseemslikethatcouldbepossible.Iwishshewouldhaveletmehelpmore.IwishI’dknownshewasstrugglinglikethis.”
“Sometimeswekeepourpaintoourselvesbecauseit’stoohardtoshare,”Kittysayssoftly.
I’veshiedawayfromtherealityofourfamily’sloss,becausethere’ssomuchguilttiedtoit.“That’sremarkablytrue.”
PrinceFrancisweavesbetweenourfeetandheadsstraightfortheclosetdoor.Heplunkshisnakedbuttonthecarpetandmeowsloudly,thenlooksoverhisshoulderatusandmeowsagain,unawareoftheconversationhe’sinterrupting.
“Doyouwantmetoopentheclosetdoor?”Kittyasks.
“Probablyagoodidea.”ItalsopreventsmefromusingKittyasatherapist.
Kittycrossestheroomandslowlyopensthedoor.Theinsidelookslikeanyotherclosetthatbelongedtoaneight-year-oldboy.There’saNerfgunonthefloor,clothesonhangers,anoutfittossedinalaundrybasket.
PrinceFrancisdisappearsinsideandreturnslessthanthirtysecondslaterwithatoymouseinhismouth.Hetrotsoutoftheroomanddownthehall,towardthelivingroom.
“Wellatleastwecanconfirmthatthereisnoportaltoanotherdimensioninthecloset,”Kittysays,thengrimaces.“Sorry,Ishouldn’tbemakingjokes.”
“Thelevityisappreciated.”
“Well,thatmysteryissolved,Iguess.IfeelkindofsillythatIimmediatelyjumpedtothewholeghost-portaltoanotherdimensionscenario,buttobefair,I’vebeenreadingsomeweirdparanormalbookslately.”Kittypushesherglassesuphernoseandopenshermouthtosaysomethingelse.
Whichistheexactmomentmystomachrumbleslikethere’sabeastlivinginsideit.
Hereyesgowide.“Wasthatyourstomach?”
“EitherthatorI’veswallowedademi-gorgon.”
“Haveyoueatendinneryet?Ormaybeyoujusthaveanextremelyhighmetabolism?Mysisterisastringbean,andsheeatseverytwohoursandcanconsumemorefoodthanmostgrownmenwithoutputtingonanounce.Iclearlydidn’tgetthesamegenes.”Shepatshercurvyhip.
“Ihappentolikeyourgenes,andIdon’tmeantheonesmadeoutofdenim.”Iwouldliketosummonaportalormaybeletthedemi-gorgoninmystomachbanishmetoanotherrealmuntilKittysmiles.
Kittynarrowshereyes.“Areyoumakingajoke,oristhatacompliment?”
“Canitbeboth,butwithastrongleantowardacomplimentsincethejokepartiskindofcheesy?”Iquirkabrowandgiveherachagrinedsmile.
Shebitesherlipforasecond,hergrinwidening.“Speakingofcheesy,Imadebaconmacandcheesefordinner.Therearelotsofleftoversifyouorthedemi-gorgonlivinginyourstomachisinterested.”
Mystomachrumblesagain,butquieterthistime.“Mystomachlikesthesoundofthat.”
“Comeon,then.Let’sfeedyourbeast.”
IfollowKittytothekitchen.Shepullsahugecasseroledishoutofthefridgeandscoopsagenerousamountontoaplate,thenputsitinthemicrowavetoreheatit.It’sabitstrangetowatchhermovearoundthekitchenwitheaseandsurety,butshe’sspentalotmoretimeherethanIhaverecently,soitmakessense.
Ihuntaroundinthecabinetsforaglass.Ifindthemnexttothefridge.ThesameplasticonesmybrotherandIusedwhenwewerelittlearestillonthelowestshelf.Theadultglassescamefromagaragesale,whengasstationscarriedOlympicsglasswareintheeightiesandeverytimeyoufilledyourtankyougotanewone.Ipulltwofromthecupboardandcheckthefridge,buttheonlythingintherethat’sdrinkableiscoffeecreamandorangejuice.Juiceandmacandcheesedon’tgowelltogether,soIpourmyselfaglassofwaterinsteadanddothesameforKitty.“TheonlymealsI’veeatenhereoverthepastdecadehavebeenaroundtheholidays.”
“Beingherewithallthememoriesyouleftbehindcan’tbeeasy,especiallywithyourmominthehospital.”Themicrowavedings,andsheremovestheplate.Sheholdsitouttome.“NormallyIstickmyfingerinthemiddletoseeifit’shotallthewaythrough,butIdon’tthinkyouwantmefingeringyourfood.”
Icough-chokeonmywater.Idon’tthinkshemeansitthewaymybrainhasinterpretedit.
Kitty’seyesgowideandsheslapsapalmoverhermouth.“Ohmygosh.Thatcameoutsowrong.”
Isettheglassonthetableandsmackmychestacoupleoftimestogetthewateroutofmywindpipe.Whenthecoughingsubsides,Icrossthekitchen,whereKittyisstillstandingwiththeplateinonehandandtheotherinfrontofhermouth.“I’msureyourhandsareclean,butIcanfingermyownfood.”
Herhandfallstohersideandshegivesmealook,butit’sclearshe’sfightingasmile.“Imeantthatyoudidn’twantmyfingersinyourfood.”
“Iknow,butIlikethatwe’rebothchannelingourinnerteenageboys.”Istickmyfingerinthecenterofthemacandcheesecasserole.“Itneedsacouplemoreminutes.”IsuckthecheeseofftheendofmyfingerandKitty’scheeksflushadeepershadeofpink.Ilikethisbanterbetterthanthetherapysession.
Sheusesaforktostirthefoodbeforeshecoversitagainandputsitbackinthemicrowave.
Kittyleansagainstthecounter.“Yousaidyourparentsaredivorced?Wheredoesyourdadlive?”
“He’sonthewestcoast.HemovedouttherewhenIwenttocollegeinthecity.Therewasn’tmuchofareasonforhimtostay,andhehassiblingsoutthatway.”Ituckmyhandsinmypockets.
“Weren’tyouareasontostay?”sheaskssoftly,thenshakesherhead.“Sorry.I’mprying,andit’srude.”
“No.It’sokay.”Ashardasthesememoriesaretotalkabout,buryingthemdoesn’tseemtobeaneffectivestrategyformovingforward.“Mydadwouldleaveearlyforworktocommutetothecity,somymomgotmeofftoschool.ButafterTobydied,sherarelygotoutofbed,shestoppedcooking,anditwasuptometohandleallthehouseholdstuffmydadcouldn’tmanagewithhishours.”Ifallbackintothepast,intothemonthsandyearsthatfollowedmybrother’sdeath.“Itwascleartoallofusthatmymomwasn’tdealingwell.Mydaddideverythinghecould—therapy,familytherapy,adjustinghishoursatwork.Iremembertherebeingmedication,andherbeingflatforalongwhile…numb,Iguess?Thenthingsshifted.Weweren’tallowedtogoinToby’sbedroom,andsherefusedtocleanitout.Afterawhile,shestartedsleepinginhisroom.Ithinkthat’swhenthingswithmyparentsreallystartedtoerode.”
“Thatmusthavebeenhardforyourdad.Grievingthelossofhissonandwatchinghiswifefallapart,”Kittysayssoftly.
“Itwas,harderthanIrealizedatthetimemaybe.IthinkIsawhimcryoncewhenTobydied,andthenhejustsortofshutoff?Putonastrongfrontformymom’ssake,becauseshewasstruggling.Ican’treallyimaginewhatitwaslikeforthem,losingachild.”Irubmychin.“Butmymom,shewasn’tmovingforward.Mydadreallytried,butthenthefightsstarted.Andtheygotworseuntiltheyfinallyseparated.Shewastheonewhoaskedforadivorce.Somydadendedupmovingtothecitywherehisjobwas,andIwentwithhim.Itwasmessyandhard,andIvisitedhereeveryotherweekend.IthinkmymomwashurtthatIchosetolivewithDad,butIhadhockeyallthetimeandascheduleshecouldn’tmanage.”
Iswallowdowntheguilt.“Itwasn’tthatIdidn’twanttobethereforher.Shejustwouldn’tletushelpher.Sortofshutusout.AndIcouldn’tstayinthathousewithallthememoriesofwhathappened,andthefighting.Iwenttohighschoolinthecity,andyouknowwhatit’slikebeingateenager,friendsovereverything.Ialwayshadsportsontheweekend,sothosevisitsgotfewerandfurtherbetween.Ifeelshittyaboutitnow,becausesheessentiallylosteverything.IwishIcouldhaveseenoutsidemyselfmorebackthen.”
“Youwereyoung,andthelosswasyourstoo.Youcanfeelempathy,butitsoundslikemovinginwithyourdadwasprobablythebestthingforyourmentalhealth.”
“Yeah,butIstillwishitwouldhavegonedifferently.”
Themicrowavebeepsagain.Thistimetheplateissteaming,andKittyneedstouseovenmittstotakeitout.Ioffertodoit,butshewavesmeawayandtellsmeshe’sgotit.Shesetsitonthetable,thendropsintothechairtotheleftofme.“Whenwelookatthepastthroughanadultlens,it’seasytobeatourselvesupoverthethingswecouldhaveormaybeshouldhavedonedifferently.Butatthirteenyoudidn’thavethelifeexperiencetobeabletomakethosekindsofinformedchoices,andyouwereakidwholosthisbrother.”
Somanytimes,IcamehomefromschoolandfoundhercryinginToby’sbedroom.Itmademefeelpowerless,andinsomewaysirrelevant.Iunderstoodthepainoftheloss,butIneededamother,andshecouldn’tbethat.Notthen.“Itfeltlikeitwasmyfaultthathewasgone.”
Kittyreachesacrossthetableandsqueezesmyforearm.“Oh,Miles.Thiswasatragedyandnotyourstoown.”
“Iwassupposedtobewatchinghim,though.”
“That’sabigresponsibilityforachild,andhewasimpatient,askidssometimesare.Youarenottoblameforwhathappened.Thepersonwhohithimwas.Likeyousaidbefore,it’seasytogetcaughtupinthewhat-ifs,andyourmother’sgriefovershadowedherabilitytobeagoodparent,butthat’snotyourfaulteither.”
Inodonce,butthatmemoryisadeepwoundIdon’tknowhowtoheal.“Iseeherstrugglethroughdifferenteyesnow.AndwhenIthinkbacktomycomingtovisitwhileIwasincollege…andhersometimescallingmeToby…IfeellikeImissedalotofsigns,thatIwastoowrappedupinmyselftoseewhatwashappeningtoher.”
Kitty’ssmileisfullofsadnessandempathy.“Thebestandtheworstthingabouthindsightisthatit’salwaystwenty-twenty.”
“Thatisabsolutelythetruth.”Idigmyforkintothemacandcheese,finallytakingabite.
It’sdeliciousandcomfortingandexactlywhatIneed.
“Ican’tpretendtoknowwhatit’sliketoloseasiblingthewayyoudid,orthewayyoualsolostyourmother,butIdoknowwhatit’sliketoloseaparent.Movingforwardcanbetough.Sometimeswegetstuckintheloopanddon’tknowhowtogetoutofit,”Kittysays.
“It’shardnottomakeitmine,youknow?”Itakeanotherbite.
“Ido.IoftenwonderwhatwouldhavehappenedifI’dfoundmydadsooner.”
“Youfoundhim?”Mystomachsinks,andmyheartseemstoskipacoupleofbeats.
“He’dbeenupintheatticbyhimself.HewassupposedtobringtheChristmastreedown.Iassumedhe’dfoundoldalbumsorsomethingandgotcaughtupinwhateverelsewasupthere.Hedidthatprettymucheveryyear,wouldgouptogetthetreeandendupfindingatreasure.Itwasmynighttomakedinner,andIwassofocusedonwhatIwasdoingthatIdidn’trealizehowlonghe’dbeengone.BythetimeIwenttocheckonhim,itwastoolatetosavehim.”Shefoldsapapertowelintosmallerandsmallersquares.“Allthistosay,whileIcan’trelatecompletely,Icanempathize.”
Ireachoverandcoverherhandwithmine.“I’msorryforwhathappenedtoyourfamily.”
“AndI’msorryforwhathappenedtoyours.”
Oureyesmeetandlock,andIfeelthisconnectionweshareinmorethanjustthephysicalcontact.Underhersunshinearesomedarkclouds,andit’sareminderthatweallhavestruggles.
Aboltoflightningfollowedbyaboomofthundermakesthehouseshake,andPrinceFranciscomesboundingintotheroom.HelauncheshimselfontothekitchentableandscampersovertoKitty,thenpromptlytriestocrawlinsidehershirt.
ShepullsherhandoutfromundermineandgivesPrinceFrancisareassuringpet.“It’sokay,buddy,justalittlethunder.”
Anotherboltoflightningshootsacrossthesky,lightingupthenight,andrainpatterstheroof.
Wecontinuetotalk,sharingstories,talkingaboutwhatitwasliketogrowupwithoutaparent,whilethestormragesonoutside.I’mexhaustedfromthedayandenjoyingKitty’scompanyandthecomfortshebrings,soIcallmyneighborstoseeiftheycankeepWilfredforasleepover.Ifeelbad,butWilfredandtheirdog,Herman,arebesties,andthey’remorethanhappytodogsit,allowingmetostaythenightwithKitty.Sheofferstosetuphercotinthelivingroom,butItellherit’sfine—I’llsleepinmymother’sbedroom,andshecanstayinmine.
Wehaveanawkwardmomentinthehallwhenwe’rebothheadingforourrespectiverooms,neitherofussurewhattodo.ButeventuallyKittystepsupandgivesmeahug.“I’mgladthestormgaveusanopportunitytogettoknoweachotherbetter.”
Iwrapmyarmsaroundher.“Me,too.”
Ofallthecurveballslifehasthrownatmelately,I’mgratefulfortherayofsunshinenamedKitty.chapterthirteenSUCHABOOBKitty
Iwakeuptoawetnosenudgingmycheekandthesoundofpurring.Myeyesflipopen,andI’mface-to-facewithPrinceFrancis.Helickstheendofmynose,histerriblekittybreathmakingmeturnmyhead.Hegivesmeaheadbuttandmeowsinmyear.
“Isitbreakfasttime?”Iscratchbehindhisear,andhebasicallythrowshisentirebodyagainstmyface.
“Somekittyisfriskythismorning.”Irolloutofbedandslidemyfeetintomyslippers.It’sbarelysix,butPrinceFrancisisprovingtobeanearlyriser.Andeternallyhungry.
Iopenafreshcanoffood,servePrinceFrancishisstinkybreakfast,andsetapotofcoffeetobrew.MystomachgrowlsasIcheckthefridge.WhileIdidn’tstockthefridgelikeI’mmovingin,Ibroughtthemakingsofasolidbreakfast.Ipullouteggs,alongwithcheeseslices,ham,andEnglishmuffins.Iloveagoodeggsandwichinthemorning,butIalwaysmakeitwithscrambledeggsinsteadofovereasy,becauseIdon’tlovethetasteorthemouthfeelofrunnyeggyolks.
WhileIcrackeggsintoabowlandtransferthemoneatatimeintoameasuringcup,PrinceFrancis,alreadyfinishedwithhisbreakfast,meowsatme.
“Don’tworry,I’llgiveyouabitonceit’scooked.”Ipickupthesecondeggashejumpsontothecounter,justoutofreachofmyelbow.
“CanIhaveonetoo?”
ThedeepmalevoicescaresthelivingdaylightsoutofmeandIshriek,droppingtheeggonthefloorintheprocess.
PrinceFrancishissesandlauncheshimselfatMiles,whoisstandinginthedoorway,wearingapairofplaidpajamapantsthatareaboutsixinchestooshort.He’salsoshirtless.Gloriouslyshirtless.
Hehasasmatteringofdarkhaironhischestand,asIsuspected,healsohasdefinedabs.They’renotaschiseledastheonesoftenonthecoversofmyromancenovels.Italwaysmakesmesadtothinkthatthoseverywell-definedmenmightmissoutondeliciousthingslikecarbsandcakeinordertolookthatway,butI’malsocuriousastohowmuchPhotoshopisusedtocreateallthecontours.
Mileshasniceabs,thekindIimagineareachievedbyexercise.Maybeplayinghockey?
IrealizeI’moglinghimwhilehestruggleswithPrinceFrancis,whohasmanagedtolandonhisshoulderandbitehisearandisnowscalingdownthefrontofhimlikeabarklesstree.Miles’schestandshouldersarenowcoveredwithangryscratchmarks,andafewonhisshoulderarewellingwithblood.
“Ohno!I’msosorry!”Itearareamofpapertowelsandquicklyrunthemunderwater,butPrinceFrancisisheadingforthebrokenegg.ThelastthingIwantisasickkitty.
IthrustahandfulofdrypapertowelsatMiles.“Canyoucovertheegg,andI’llhandlePrinceFrancis?”
“Yeah.Forsure.”MilestakesthepapertowelsandwaitsuntilI’vepickedupanannoyedPrinceFrancisbeforehequicklyswipesthemoverthebrokeneggandfollowswiththewetpapertowelstogettherestofthemess.
Whilehedumpstheminthegarbage,Iwashmyhands,thengrabnewpapertowelsandwetthose,too.IturntofaceMiles.
“Ididn’tmeantoscareyou.”Hisvoiceisgruffandraspy.
It’salsosexy.
Partsofmybodythathaven’tbeengettingalotofattentionrecentlyreacttothesoundofhissleepyvoiceandthesightofhisbarechest.
Imovetostandinfrontofhim.“Areyouokay?DoweneedtogetyourEpiPenincase?”
“Mycatallergyisn’tthatsevere,”heassuresme.
“Still.Weneedtodisinfectthose,sincePrinceFranciswalksaroundinthesameboxhepoopsin.”Idabattheplacesonhisshoulderthatarebleedingwithdamppapertowel.Thereareseveralspotsonhischest.
HeexhalesinawhooshwhenIaccidentallyskimhisnipple.Hiswarmhandwrapsaroundmywrist,andhebasicallyyells,despiteonlybeinginchesfrommyface,“Uh,Ineedto…uh…I’llberightback!”
Hespinsaroundandrushesoutofthekitchen.
“Makesureyoudisinfectthose!”Icallafterhim.Great,andnowI’vesucceededinmakingthingsunnecessarilyuncomfortablewithouteventrying.
PrinceFrancisrubsagainstmyleg.Anditisn’tuntilIlookdownthatIrealizeI’mwearingapairofleopardprintsleeppantsandapalepinktankwithleopardprintlacedetailsalongtheedgeofthebodice.Andmynippleswerejustsalutinghisnipples.
“Whydoyouhavetomakeeverythingsoawkward?”I’mnotsureifI’mangryatmynipplesormyselfformakingbreakfastinmypajamas.
Ileavethemakingsofbreakfastonthecounterandheadupstairs,armsbarredacrossmychestsoIdon’tembarrassmyselforMilesmorethanIalreadyhave.
I’mrelievedtofindthehallempty,soIrunbacktomytemporarybedroomandchangeintorealpeopleclothes,includingabra.IreturntothekitchenbeforeMiles.Idecidemybestplanistocontinuemakingbreakfastandpretendnothinghappened.
Unfortunately,assoonasheappearsagainmymouthworksbeforemybrain.“I’msosorryIwasn’twearingabraandmynippleswereeyeingyournipples.”Idropmyheadandsigh.“WhydidIhavetoleadwiththat?I’msoembarrassed.”
Milesleansagainstthedoorjamb,onehandinhispocket.He’swearingdresspants,abutton-down,andahockey-themedtie.Hishairisneatlystyled,andhelooksfarmoreediblethanmycheesyeggs.Healsoappearstobefightingasmile.“Nipplesaren’tallthatconcernedaboutwhoseesthem;it’sjusttheirownerswhoare,anditwascoldinhere.”
Icrackaneyelid.“It’smortifying.”
Milespointstohischest.“Thisguytackledyoutotheflooroverawatergun.”
“Thatwasprettybad.”
“Itwasn’tmyfinestmoment.I’mstillsorryaboutthat.”Hecomescloser,warmeyesmovingovermyface.
Thewayhelooksatmesendsathrillthroughmeandmakesmynipplespeak.Again.Thankfully,thistimethey’recoveredbylayersofpadding.Man,Imustreallybeinneedofsomephysicalreleaseifhimlookingatmehasthiskindofimpact.
“CanIhelpyouwithanything?”
I’mgratefulforthesubjectchange.“YoucouldtoasttheEnglishmuffins?”
“Surething.”Milespopstwointothetoasterandgrabscoffeemugsfromthecupboard.“NormallyIpourmyselfabowlofcerealandfeelprettyaccomplished.Ihopeyou’renotgoingtoallthistroubleforme.”
“Ohno,Ialwaysmakebreakfast.It’smyfavoritemeal.IwouldeatbreakfastfordinnerprettymucheverydayoftheweekifIcould.”Ipourtheeggsintothefryingpan.“Omeletsaremynumberonebecauseyoucanchangeitupbyaddingdifferentthings.Andofcourse,wafflesaredelicious.”
“Mystomachapprovesofallofthis.”Milesgrabsplatesfromthecupboard.
WhentheEnglishmuffinsareready,IpasshimasliceofcheeseforeachmuffinandfoldapieceofhambetweentheeggbeforeIslidethoseonaswell.
Wetakeourbreakfasttothetable,andbecausePrinceFrancisisclearlyafanofeggs,ham,andcheese,hekeepstryingtojoinus,interruptingeveryattemptatconversation.EventuallyIgrabthewatergunfromthelivingroomandsetitbesidemyplateasawarning
Heplunkshisbuttdownonthefloorandglaresupatme,obviouslynotimpressedbymylackofsharing.
Icutoffachunkofcheesyeggandhamanddropitonthefloornexttomyfoot.Hegobblesitupandrubshimselfonmyleg,purringandhappyagain,meowinghisgratitude.
“Sofickle.”Mileschucklesandswallowshisbiteofeggsandwich.“He’sbasicallylikeadog,isn’the?”
“Why,becausehe’sbeggingforfood?”
HemotionstoPrinceFrancis.“It’sexactlywhatmydogdoeswheneverIhavesomethinghewants,whichisallthetime.”
“Wilfredisadorable,”Itellhim.Andhuge.He’sthesizeofasmallhorse,buthehasthetemperamentofabunny.
“He’sagiantsuck.Andhereallylovesbacon.Morethananythingelse.ExceptmaybethecookiesfromWoofItBakery.HebecomesadroolfestwhenIbringthosehome.”
“Isthatlikeadogcafé?”
“Yup,it’sdowntheblockfrommyplace.Theyhaveadogparkrightnextdoor,andtheyservedogtreatsandcoffeeanddrinksforowners.It’shisfavoriteplacetogo,”Milestellsme.
“Yousaidyourneighborsaretakingcareofhimrightnow?”
“Yeah,MarkandJoe.TheyhaveateacuppoodlenamedHerman,andthosetwoarethebestoffriends.WheneverItakeWilfredforawalk,IusuallytakeHermantoo.They’reliketwolittleoldmenhangingout.”HepullsouthisphoneandshowsmeWilfred’ssocialmediaaccount.WilfredtheDaneandhisbestfriendtheteacuppoodlehavecountlesspicturestogether.“He’sgotmorefollowersthanIdobyasignificantmargin.”
“Maybeifyoupostedmoreshirtlessphotosyou’dhaveabiggerfollowing,”Isay,thentakeahugebiteoutofmyeggsandwichsoIcan’tsayanythingelseembarrassing.
“Eh,I’mnotreallybuiltforshirtlessphotos.”Milesrunshishanddownthefrontofhisshirt.
“Sayswho?”Iarchabrow.I’dhappilylookathisshirtlesschestalldaylong.
“I’mkindofwiry.”
“Whoareyoucomparingyourselfto?Andtherearelotsofwomenwhoarefansofleanmen.Personally,I’mnotallthatkeenonguyswholookliketheycouldbetheHulk’slessgreenbrother.”
“Ohno?You’remoreafanofthespaghettiarms?”
“Youdon’thavespaghettiarms.AndI’veseenyoushirtlessnow,soIknowexactlyhownicetheylook.”Ireachacrossandgivehisbicepsapoke.“Maybespendingallthattimearoundguyswhoworkoutforalivinghasskewedyourviewofwhat’snormal.”
“Mosthockeyplayersaretanks.”Miles’slipstwisttotheside,andhedropshiseyes,hischeeksflushing.Ilikethatcomplimentshavethesameeffectonhimastheydoonme.
“Atankisnecessarywhenyou’reheadedforroughterrain,butIprefersleek.”
“That’sgoodtoknow.”Milesgrins.
AndIrealizeI’vespentthelastfewminutestellinghimthatIfindhimattractive.
“Anyway.”Iwaveahandaroundintheair,asifthatwillerasethisconversation.“Withthenextlittlewhilebeingabithecticforyouwithmovingyourmom,Iwonderedifyouwantedmetoswitchyoutomymonthlyplaninstead?IknowIsentyoumyscheduleoffeesinthebeginning,butthatwasforshort-termcare,andmaybethat’schangedabit?Ifyouwant,IcanputPrinceFrancisonaregularrotation,andit’llbeabitmorecosteffectiveforyouandyourmom.”
Ittakeshimamomenttoswitchtopicgears.“Thatwouldbegreat.I’mnotsurewhethershe’llbeabletobringhimwithheratall.ButI’dliketogethermovedandsettledbeforeItacklethatproblem.AndthenI’llhavetofigureoutwhatwe’regoingtodowiththisplace.”
“It’salotofbigdecisions.Letmeknowifthere’sanythingelseIcandotohelp.”Itseemslikethisplacedoesn’tholdthesamekindoffondmemoriesforMilesthatmyfamilyhomedoes.Whichismaybepartofthereasonleavingitbehindisn’tsomethingI’vewantedtoentertainmuch.
Hesmileswarmly.“You’realreadydoingmorethanenough,andmakingmebreakfastdefinitelyisn’tpartofthePrinceFranciscarepackage.”
“Consideritabonusservice.”IwinkandthenwishIcouldtakethatpartback.MyflirtseemstobeturneduptofullblastaroundMiles
“Iwaswonderingif—”Miles’sphonedings,andheglancesatthescreen.“Ohcrap.Ididn’trealizewhattimeitwas.”Hejamsthelastofhiseggsandwichintohismouthandpushesbackhischair.
“Youneedtogettowork?”
Henodsandraisesahandinfrontofhisface,hiswordsslightlygarbledsincehe’sspeakingwithamouthfulloffood.“Ihaveameetinginanhour.”
Ileavethelasttwobitesofmysandwichandfollowhimtothefrontdoor.Hissuitjackethangsonthenewelpost.Heshrugsintoit,thenslipshisfeetintohisshoesandgrabshismessengerbag,slingingitoverhisshoulder.
“Thanksagain,Kitty.Iuh…Iappreciateyou.MaybeIcanreturnallthefeedingfavorsbytakingyououtfordinneroneofthesedays.”Hesneezesonce,andthenagain.“Seemslikemyantihistaminesmightbewearingoff.I’lltouchbaselater.”
“Sure,soundsgood.”
“Great.Haveagoodday!”
Andwiththathe’soff.
PrinceFranciscomestrottingintothefrontfoyer.Herubshimselfonmyleg.
“Doyouthinkwhenhementioneddinnerhewasaskingmeonadateorjusttryingtothankme?”Eithercouldbepossible.OrmaybeI’mreadingintothings.
PrinceFrancismeowsandflopsoveronhisside,battingatsomethingunderthenarrowtabletomyright.Whateveritis,hecan’tseemtoreachit,andhekeepsmeowing,hiscriesgrowinglouder.Idroptomykneesandcloseoneeye,tryingtoseewhatitisthathashimsoriled.It’sastuffedmousetoy.PossiblytheonethatwasinMiles’sbrother’sroom.
AssoonasIknockitoutfromunderthetablePrinceFrancistakesitinhismouth,meowingexcitedlyashetrotsofftothelivingroom,presumablytoplay.
WithMilesgoneandPrinceFrancisfedandcaredfor,it’stimetostarttherestofmyday.chapterfourteenTHEUNSTUCKKitty
Imakemymorningrounds,thenstopatKat’stoworkoninvoicesandcreatesomecontentpostsforKat’sCatCafé,somethingIwassupposedtodoafewdaysago,butmyschedulehasmadethatachallenge.
“Howarethings?You’rebusierthanusualthesedays,”Katsaysaswesetupanewtoyforthecatstoplaywith.
“I’msorryIcouldn’tstopbyearlierintheweek.I’llmakeupforitontheweekend.”
Tuxrushesoverandimmediatelystartsplayingwiththetoy,purringhappilyandthenrollingonhisbackandkickingathisface,asexcitedcatsdo.KattakesphotoswhileItakevideofootage.
“It’sokay.Ijustmissyourfacearoundhere,that’sall.”
“Wereallyneedtoplanagirls’nightcatch-up.”Ikeepsayingthisandthensomethingalwaysseemstocomeup.“Whatabouttomorrownight?”
Katbitesthecornerofherlip.“Ihaveadate.”
“Oh!Isthisdatenumbertwo?”
Hereyeslightup.“Nope.Thisisthree.”
“Really?WhatdidImiss?”
“Wewentforcoffeeyesterday.Tomorrowwe’regoingfordinner.”
“That’sawesome.Ineedtohearaboutthis.AndwereallyneedtoplansomethingsoIcangetafullrundownofFridaynight.”IfeelbadthatIhaven’tbeenaroundasmuchasIshould.Katisoneofmyclosestfriends,andthatImissedtheseconddateexcitementmeansI’mslackingonfriendduty.IskiplunchinordertogetarecapofdatetwowithBrad,andwemakeatentativeplantohavelunchontheweekend.
Ileavetomanagemyafternoonclientsandpickupafewthingsfordinneronthewayhome.Ifindmymominthelivingroom,leafingthroughanoldphotoalbum.Sheusuallyonlydoesthiswhenit’sapproachingabirthday.“Hey,Mom,everythingokay?”
Hereyesareglassywhensheliftshergaze,asifshe’sonthevergeoftears.Shesetsthealbumonthecoffeetableandstrugglestogetthefootrestdownonthelounger.It’sbeengivinghermoretroublelately,whichmakesmenervous.Idon’tknowhowshe’llhandleitifmydad’soldloungerstopsworking.Ican’tseeherbeingokaywithgettingridofit.
“Ohyes,everything’sfine.”Thefootrestfinallygoesdownwithagrindingmetallicsquealandaclunk.“IwasgivingtheshelvesadustandIpulledanalbumdownandwell…”Shemotionstothestackonthefloor.“Youknowhowthatgoes.”
“Icouldgiveyouahandwiththatafterdinner,”Isuggest.
“Icanfinishituptomorrowsinceit’smydayoff.Letmehelpputthegroceriesaway.”
Shefollowsmetothekitchen,andweunloadthebagstogether.
“You’vebeengonealotlately,”shemusesasshetransferstheorangestothefruitbowl.
“I’vebeenhelpingoutanewclientwithhiscat,”Iexplain.
“Whichclientisthis?Igetthemconfusedsinceyouhavesomany.”Shesetsthecannedtomatoesonthecounter,alongwiththetomatopaste.Tonightwe’rehavinglasagnasoupfordinner.
IfillmymotherinonPrinceFrancis,whoI’vementionedbefore,andshehumsandnods,butI’mnotsureshe’spayingattention.
“Hismotherisgoingintoahomesoon,andhe’snotsureifshe’llbeabletotakethecatwithher.I’mhopingshecan,orelseMileswillhavetofindanewhomeforPrinceFrancis.”Igrabtwoonionsandthecuttingboard,thenmovearoundthekitchen,pullingoutingredientsforthesoupwhilewechat.
“Whatkindofcatisitagain?Hopefullynotonethatwillbehardtofindahomefor,”Momasksabsently.
“Asphynx.They’reusuallyinhighdemand,soIdoubtfindinghimanewhumanwillbetoodifficult,buthecanbedestructive.”
“You’llfixthat,though.”
“I’mworkingonit.”
“Smokeywassuchawell-trainedcat.Irememberwhenyoursisterwasababy,andhewouldlieunderhercribandthencomegetmeinthemorningwhenshewasreadytobefed.”Momsmileswistfully.“Imissthosedayssometimes.”
“Yeah,metoo.Hewasagreatcat.”IswallowdownthesadnessthatcomeswiththinkingaboutSmokey.AllthegreatmemoriesIhadofhimasachildaretaintedbyasingleeventthatchangedourentirefamily.Normally,thesecondhestartedpullingonthescreen,Iwouldlethimin.Exceptthatonetime
Still,Iwanderdownmemorylane.“HeusedtofollowDadaroundlikeashadowafterdinner,waitingforhimtositinhisreclinersohecouldtakeupresidenceinhislap.”
“Hewasyourdad’scat,that’sforsure,”Mommuses.
She’sright,hewas,andafewmonthsafterhepassed,Smokeyranaway.OnedayIlethimoutforhismorningfrolicinthebackyard,andhenevercamehome.IfeelasthoughI’mexperiencingthesadnessIassociatedwiththesememoriesthroughawindow,aprotectivebarrierfromthepain.
Hattiemessagestosayshe’sgoingtobehomelaterandnottowaitonherfordinner.
“Areyouheretonight?MaybewecanplayagameofFarkleafterwewatchJeopardy.”Momasks.
Ihatetosaynotomymom,butIneedtogetthesituationwithPrinceFrancisundercontrol.“I’mgoingbacktomyclient’shouseforthenight.I’mtryingtoextinguishsomebadbehaviors,andPrinceFrancisisn’tusedtobeingaloneallthetime.Butmaybetomorrownight?”
“Thatwouldbelovely,dear.Ithinkit’swonderfulthatyou’resodedicatedtoyourjob.”
“Ireallydoloveit.”ButasIsithere,eatingdinneratthetablesetforthree,mydad’sspotempty,thoughfulloftheweightofhismemory,IrealizethatstayingatMiles’smother’shousehasfeltlikeaminivacation.Andthat’ssayingsomethingconsideringtheemotionalghoststhatlivethere.
ImullthatoverwhileIhelpcleanupthedinnerdishes.HowMiles’shouseisfullofmemorieshe’stryingtoescape,whileI’mtryingtoholdontomine.It’salmostlikeI’veputmylifeonpauseeverytimeIwalkthroughthedoorandstaythatteenagegirl.Anytimemymomsuggestsredecorating,I’vebeentheonetosayIloveitthewayitis.ButmaybeIjustlovethememories.Evenifthemostpervasiveoneisablackcloudhanging.LikeToby’sbedroom,minehasn’tchangedmuchsinceIwassixteen.Iseetheparallels:hisisashrinetoalifenoneofhisfamilyliveanymore.AndmineisashrinetothedaysbeforeIlostmydad.
I’mpackinganovernightbagwhenthere’saknockonmybedroomdoor.“Comein!”IcalloutasIstuffinapairofpajamas.
Hattiepopsherheadin.“There’sapileofphotoalbumsonthelivingroomfloor.Pleasetellmeyoudidn’thavetositwithMomandlistentoastorythatwentwitheverysinglephoto.”
“Uhno.Iredirectedustothekitchentomakedinnerbeforethatcouldhappen.”
Sheclosesthedoorbehindheranddropsintomycomputerchair.“Ohphew.Ithoughtyou’dgottensuckedinandIwasn’theretosaveyou,andthenIwouldhavefeltbad.Areyougoingsomewhere?”
Idon’tmindgoingthrougholdphotoalbums.Infact,it’smorelikelytobemepullingthemofftheshelves,butIleavethatthoughtaloneandexplainthatI’mstayinganothernightataclient’shouse.
“Isthistheclientwiththehottieowner?”
“Thehottieson,yes.”
“Ishestayingover,too?”
“No,he’snot.”AtleastnotthatI’maware.Myheartleapsaroundinmychestatthepossibility,though.Sosilly.I’mclearlyholdingontohisoffhandcommentaboutdinnertootightly
“I’mgoingfordrinkswithsomefriendsfromschooltonight.Youcancomewithifyouwant.”Hattiegrabsoneofmycatstressballsandtossesitfromonehandtotheother.
“IneedtodosometrainingwithPrinceFrancistonight,butthanksfortheinvitation.”Iaddanoutfitfortomorrowtomybag,andmyminihandheldsteamer.
Hattiespinsaroundonceinmychair.“CanIsaysomething?”
“Sure?”Idragouttheword,uncertainofhertone.
“Iknowyouloveyourjob,Kitty,butsometimesIwonderifmaybeyouloveittoomuch.”
IstopwhatI’mdoingandgivehermyfullattention.“Howdoyoumean?”
Shetapsonthearmofthechair.“You’reblowingmeofftohangoutwithacat.”
“I’mbeingpaidtotakecareofsomeone’spet.”There’sadifference.Also,Iseemtohaveacrushonthesonoftheowner.
“WhichIunderstand,butyoucan’thaveonequickdrinkwithmeandsomefriends?Dosomethingsocial?Gooutandseeotherhumanbeingsclosetoyourownageandnotsomeone’sgrandmotherwhobasicallywantsyourhelp,sotheyhavesomeonetotalktoforacoupleofhours?”SheraisesahandwhenIstarttoprotest.“I’mnotsayingyoushouldn’ttakeyourjobseriously,orthatthereisn’tmeritinyoubeingafriendlyfaceforelderlycatowners,butsometimesIthink,particularlyinsituationssuchasthese,yourjobiskindofaconvenientexcusenottocomeout.”
“I’mnotthebiggestfanofcrowds.”I’mmakinganotherexcuse,andI’mnotsurewhy.Ifeelsafestonline,beingtheKittyWhispererwithfollowerswhoposthearteyes.Inreallife,thereareconversations,andwhileIlovewhatIdo,noteveryonethinkscatsittingisarealjob.SowhensomeonedismissesmeorthinkswhatIdois“cute,”I’mcompelledtodefendmycareer.Andthatoftenleadstofeelinginsecure.ThelasttimeIwentoutwithHattiewastosomehouseparty.IendedupinagroupofpeopleIdidn’tknow,andwhenItoldthemwhatIdidforaliving,theythoughtitwasajoke.Theyweren’tmysister’sactualfriends,butitstillwasn’tmyfavoritenight,andIwouldliketoavoidarepeat.
“It’sasmallgroupatapub.You’vemetmostofthembefore.I’mnotsayingyouhavetocometonight,butyou’reallowedtohaveasociallife.Iknowgroupscanmakeyounervous,butsometimesit’sgoodtostepoutsideofourcomfortzone,don’tyouthink?”
Ibitetheinsideofmycheek.TodayI’dalreadybeenthinkingabouthowmylifeisonpause.Maybeshe’sright.MaybethisisagoodwaytohitthePlaybutton.AndifI’vealreadymetthesepeople,it’snottoofaroutsidemycomfortzone.“Okay.I’llcomeforadrink.”
“Yay!Ipromiseyouwon’tregretit!”Shepushesoutofthechairandwrapsherarmsaroundme.“Let’spickanoutfit!”
Irunmyhandsovermyhips.“What’swrongwithwhatI’mwearing?”
Hattiegivesmealook.“Thisisfineforoldpeoplewithvisionproblems.Notsomuchforthepub.”
HalfanhourlaterI’msandwichedbetweenmysisterandoneofherclassmates.EveryoneisfamiliarexcepttheguyI’msittingnextto,Hattie’sclassmatenamedBryce.Hishairhasaperfectswoopthatremindsmeofboybandsandskijumps.It’salsoveryblond,andsoarehiseyebrows.HelookssortoflikeacrossbetweenaDisneycharacterandacartoonsuperhero.He’salsovery,verychatty.
Andbraggy.Andheburpsalot.IhaveafeelingheateeitherCaesarsaladorgarlicbreadfordinner,becauseeverysooftenagarlicandbeer–scentedburpwaftsmyway.It’sachallengenottogrimaceeverytimeithappens.Instead,Iplasteronasmileandtrytofollowtheconversation,butitisn’teasywithallthehotgarlicwind.
“Areyoustillincollege,too?I’veneverseenyouoncampus.I’minthefinalyearofmyPhD.”
“Ohwow.That’salotofeducation.Anddedication.Whatareyoustudying?”Iask.Thisisgood.IfIcankeephimtalking,thenIdon’thavetoanswerquestions.WhenI’mwitholdpeopleorcats,Idon’thavetoworryaboutmakinganassoutofmyself.
“I’mtakingalienstudies.”
Iblinkafewtimes,waitingforapunchline,butoneapparentlyisn’tcoming.Iwonderifmyexpressionisthesameasotherpeople’swhenItellthemIcatsitandtrainthem.“Oh,that’sreally…interesting.Whatkindofjobwouldyougetwiththat?WouldyouworkforNASA?”
“Ohno.NASAisonlylookingforrocketscientistsandpeoplewithengineeringdegrees.Oratleastthat’swhatallmyrocketscientistfriendsaresaying.”Hewavesahandaroundintheair.“IfellinlovewithalienswhenIwatchedE.T.asakid.Haveyouseenthatmovie?Theonefromtheeighties?”
“Ohwow.Yeah.I’veseenit.He’sobsessedwithReese’sPieces,isn’the?TheE.T.character?”Thisisanexceptionallyoddconversation.
“Ohyeah,totallyobsessed.”Brycenodsexuberantlyandburpsagain.
“Ifyou’renotincollege,whatdoyoudo?”heasks.
“I’maprofessionalcatsitter.”
Heblinksonce,twice,athirdtime,andthenthrowshisheadbackandguffaws.Itdrawstheattentionofthesurroundingtables,whichinturnmakesmyfacefeelhot.WhenIdon’tjoinin,hisexpressionsobersandhiseyesroundwithshock.“You’reserious?”
ThiscomingfromaguywhowentintoalienstudiesbecauseofaReese’sPieces–lovingHollywood-createdextraterrestrial.“Yup.Iownmyownbusiness.”
Hefrowns.“Youcanmakealivingoffofthat?”
Thisisn’tanuncommonreactiontomyjob,butitisfrustrating.“There’sawomanwhomakessixfiguresfromfartinginjars.Whycan’tcatsittingbelucrativeenoughtopaythebills?”
“Catsarekindofassholes,though.Like,dogsittingIget.Theyneedtobeletoutandtakenforwalks.Catsarejustdoorstopsthatcrapinabox,”Brycesays.
“They’rejustasaffectionateasdogs,andtheyneedjustasmuchloveandcare,”Iargue.
Myphonebuzzesinmypocket,whichisareliefbecauseI’mgettingheated.Morethanjustinmyface.Icheckthemessage,halfhopingit’sanemergency.It’snoturgent,butitisMiles.ListeningtoBrycecrapallovermyjobisn’tmyideaofagoodtime.ButifMileswerehere…Onawhimmadeoutofpanicandkneejerkreactions,Iinvitehimtothepub.Itisn’tuntilafterIhittheSendbuttonthatIrealizeitprobablyisn’tthebestideatoinvitetheguyIhaveacrushontoapubwithmysisterandherfriends.
“Everythingokay?”Bryceasks,seeminglyoblivioustohowmuchhe’soffendedme.
“Yup.Everything’sfine.”
Iproceedtopanic-chugtherestofmydrinkandorderanotherwhileBrycetellsmeaboutthetimehewasabductedbyanalien.It’sbetterthanhiminsultingmyjob,butnotbymuch.
“Iwasonlyeightyearsoldwhenithappened.Itwasthemiddleofthenight,andIhadafeeling,youknow?IlookedoutmywindowandtherewasaUFOinthesky.Iopenedmywindowtogetabetterlook,andthenahugespotlightshonedownonthesideofmyhouseandboom.”Hesnapshisfingers.“Iwasbeameduptothemothership.”
“Wow.Thatmusthavebeensurreal.”Ineedtoaskmysisterwherethehellshemetthisguy,andwhyshestuckmebesidehim.Unfortunately,askingherrightnowwouldberude,asshe’scurrentlyflirtingwithaguywholooksalotlikeChrisEvans’syoungerbrother.
“Iwaspreparedfortheworst,”hesayssolemnly.
“Likebeinganallyprobed?”Ijoke,sortof.
“That’sactuallyamyth.Aliensdon’tdothat.”Hestretcheshisarmacrossthebackoftheseatandleansinclose,asifhe’sabouttotellmeasecret.
WhichistheexactmomentIspotMileswalkingthroughthebar.He’swearingasuitandhisglasses,andhelookssogood.Likeasexy,nerdy,suit-wearingsmartguywhocrunchesnumberslikegymjunkiescrunchtheirabs.Iraisemyhandintheairandwaveitaroundtocatchhisattention.Foramomenthisfacelightsupwhenheseesme.Itmakesmystomachsomersault.Andthenhisgazeshiftstomyright,whereBryceisclosetalkinginmyear.IconsiderhowitmustlooktoMiles.HereIam,invitinghimtothepubwhilesomerandomweirdochatsmeup.Aboutaliens.
“Canyouexcusemeforasecond?Myfriendjustarrived.”
“Huh?”Bryceasks.
“Ineedtogetout.”
“Oh.Right.Okay.”Bryceseemsconfused.
SodoesMiles.
ButBryceslidesover,andIhopoutofthebooth,movingacrosstheroomtowhereMilesstands,lookinguncertainandmaybelikehe’stryingtoshootlasersatBrycewithhiseyeballs.Irushovertohim,andbecauseI’mstillinpanicmodeandthinkingwithonlymyhormonesandnoneofmybraincells,Idosomethingabsurdlymortifying.
“I’msogladyou’rehere,andI’msosorryforwhatI’mabouttodo.Pleasegowithit.Thatguysittingbesidemeiscertifiable,andIneedhimtogetaclue.”Igrabthelapelsofhissuitjacketandpushuponmytoes.ThenImashmylipsagainsthis.chapterfifteenWELL,THATWASUNEXPECTEDMiles
TosayI’mconfusedwouldbeanunderstatement.Kitty’slipsarecurrentlypressedagainstmine.Andthatdudeshewassittingbeside,wholookslikeoneofthecartoonelvesfromthatClaymationChristmasmoviewiththeabominablesnowman,isglaringdaggersatme.There’salsoawomanstaringatuswithhermouthagape.
IstopfocusingonthegawkersandfocusinsteadonKitty,whoselipsarestillonmine.They’resoftandwarm.
I’mnotsurewhat’sgoingon,butI’mnotonetolookagifthorseinthemouth,either.Iwrapmyarmaroundherwaistandpullheragainstme.Shemakesanoiseofsurpriseandpartsherlips.Itaketheopportunityforwhatitisandbrushmytongueagainsthers.Hermouthtastesfruityandsweet.
Kittymakesanoiseofsurpriseandreleasesoneofmylapels.Herhandcurvesaroundthebackofmyneck,andshetipsherhead,hertonguetanglingwithmine.Whatstartsasaninnocentkissquicklyescalatesintoaverypublicbattleofthetongues.EventuallyIhavetostopbecauseI’matriskofgettingahard-onifIkeepitup.Itwouldn’tbesobadifwehadsomeprivacy,butwe’reinthemiddleofapubwithasubstantialaudience.
IpullbackfarenoughsothatIcanseeherface.Hereyesarestillclosed,andherlipsareparted.
“Hi.”Thewordcomesoutabouttwooctaveslowerthanusual.
HereyespopopenandhermouthformsanO.Sheblinksatmeafewtimesbeforeshesays,“Ijustattackedyouwithmylips.I’msosorry.”
“Um.I’mnot?”Irubthebackofmyneck.Therearelittleindentsfromwherehernailspressedintotheskin.
“You’renotsorryIattackedyouwithmylips?”Sheseemsperplexed.God,she’sadorable.Andgorgeous.Andshehasgreatlips.
Ishakemyhead.“Notevenalittlesorry.You’rewelcometoattackmewithyourlipswheneveryoufeellikeit.”Whereveryoufeellikeattackingmewiththem.
“Exceptmaybewhenmymouthisfulloffood.Thatwouldnotbegreat.”Shesqueezeshereyesshutandgrimaces.“Whycan’tIeverjuststopwhenI’mahead?”
“OneofthethingsIlikemostaboutyouisthewayyoudon’tstopwhenyou’reahead.”Iinclinemyheadmarginallytowardthetable.“What’swiththeboybandmember?”
“He’safriendofmysister’s.I’mstillsorryaboutthelipattack.Thisreallywasn’thowIenvisionedourfirstkiss.”Sheslapsherhandoverhermouth.“IwishIcouldpluckthatlastsentenceoutofyourearsandshoveitbackintomywordhole.”
Ismiledownather.“IfI’mgoingtobetotallyhonest,thatwasn’thowIenvisionedourfirstkissgoingeither,butIstillverymuchenjoyeditandlookforwardtoapotentialrepeat.Hopefullysoon.”
Sherapid-blinksafewtimes.“You’vethoughtaboutkissingme?”
“Manytimes,”Iadmit.
“Metoo.IevenhaddreamsaboutitbackwhenIthoughtyouwereacathater.Thatwasfrustrating,bytheway,thewholefindingyouattractivewhilealsobeingannoyedbyyou.”
“Icanimagine.”Inodstoically,theninclinemyheadtowardthetable.“MaybeIneedtothanktheboybanddudeforbeingsoclueless.”
“Iwouldn’tgothatfar.”Shethumbsoverhershoulder.“Doyouwanttositdownandhaveadrink?Icanintroduceyoutomysisterandherfriends.”
“That’dbegreat.”Iletherleadmetothetable.
Boybanddude,whosenameisBryce,grudginglygivesuphisseatsoIcansitnexttoKitty.Sheintroducesmeasherfriendandblushessixteendifferentshadesofredwhenhersistersaysshe’sheardallaboutmeandthatshe’shappytofinallymeetme.BasedonHattie’ssmirkandKitty’spink-tingedcheeks,I’mthinkingwhatevershe’sheardhasbeengoodthings.Thewholelayingakissonmeisalsoatipoff.
Hattie’sfriendsareinteresting,andIfeelasmidgebadforBrycetheboybandwannabe,sinceit’sclearhe’sinterestedinKittyandIcameinandstolehisthunderwithouteventrying.
WestayforonedrinkbeforeKittystartscoveringhermouthtohideheryawns.Shepaysforbothofourdrinks,despitemytellingherit’snotnecessary.
KittyhugsHattie,whomustwhispersomethinginherearthatshefindsembarrassing,becauseherfaceturnsbrightredagain.Weleavethepubtogether.“Areyoustayingintowntonight,ordoyouhavetogobacktothecity?”
“Theteamhaspracticeearlytomorrow,soIhavetoheadhometonight.”
Sheadjuststhestrapofherpurseandnodsafewtimes.“Thatmakessense.Ididn’teventhinktoaskwhatyouweredoingintowninthefirstplace.”
“Ihadtosignpaperworkformymother.We’llbeabletomoveherintothehomethisweekend.Andthey’veagreedtoletmebringPrinceFrancisbyforavisit,whichisgreatbecauseshe’sbeenaskingabouthimalot.”
“Ibetshemisseshim.”
“Whensheremembersshehasacat,yes.”
Kitty’sexpressionturnssad.“IsthereanythingIcandotohelp?”
“You’vedonemorethanenough.I’llbebythehousetomorrowsometimesoIcandosomepacking.”Ishoveahandinmypocketandfigurenowisasgoodatimeasanytoaskherout.“Iwaswonderingifyou’dliketogofordinner,maybenextweekend?Withme?”Idon’tknowwhyIaddthelastpart.Obviously,I’mnotgoingtoaskhertogooutwithsomeoneelse.
“Youmeanasathank-you?”Kitty’sbottomlipslidesthroughherteeth.
“Imean,itcouldbeathank-you,butI’mmoreinclinedtoclassifythisasadate.I’vebeenmeaningtoaskyou,butIdidn’twantyoutosayyesoutofobligation.However,sincethelipattackhappened,Ifeelabitmoreconfidentthatyoumightsayyesbecauseyouwanttoandnotbecauseyoudon’twanttohurtmyfeelings.”
Kittysmilesandducksherhead.“Iwoulddefinitelyliketogoonadatewithyou.”
“Okay.Well,that’sgreat.”It’sstartedtorainalittle.Tinydropslandonmyglasses,obscuringpartsofKitty’sface.“Iguesswecanplanthattomorrow.I’llmessagewhenI’llbeatthehouse?”
“Perfect.I’mgoingtherenow,soPrinceFrancishasaheadtocurlhisbodyaroundtonight.”
“IcanhonestlysayI’mjealousofPrinceFrancis.”
Wesmileandstareateachother’smouthsforseveralsecondsbeforewebothtakeastepcloser.HerhandslidesovermychestandaroundthebackofmyneckwhileIwrapanarmaroundherwaist.WebothtipourheadstotheleftandsheliftsherchinwhileIdropmine.
Whenourlipsconnectitfeelslikeawholetruckfulloffireworkshavejustgoneoff.Inmypants.
I’mnotsurehowlongwekissfor,buttherainpicksuptothepointthatwe’rebothgoingtobesoakedtotheboneifwekeepitupmuchlonger.I’dsuggestwecontinueineitherofourcars,butIworrythatIwon’thavetheabilitytoputapininitbeforeitescalatestoapotentialindecentexposurecharge.
“I’msortofgladIattackedyouwithmylipstonight.”
“Metoo.AndI’mhopefulthatfromnowonit’sgoingtobearegularoccurrence.”Iopenhercardoorandusherherin,thenwaveatherthroughthewindowbeforeIrushtomyownvehicle.Theurgetofollowherbacktomymother’shouseisstrong,butIremindmyselfthatitwouldbealotbettertowaituntilI’vehadtheopportunitytotakeheronadate,andhopefullyendupbackatmyplace,ratherthaninmychildhoodbedroom.chaptersixteenLITTLEPIECESKitty
Thenextweekisfilledwithemergencies,whichmeansIdon’tseeMilesorKat.EverytimeIthinkI’mabouttogetintimewitheitherofthem,I’mcalledawaytoanothercatastrophe.ItalsomeansalltheeffortI’veputintouppingmymakeupgamehasbeenacompletewaste.
It’smid-afternoononThursday,andMiles’smotherismovingintothehomethisweekend.Mileshasbeenherethepastfewdayspackingupthings.Iwassupposedtostopbylastnight,butMr.O’ToolecalledveryupsetbecauseBumbleshadgottenstuckinthewallagain.IwascertainhewasjusttrappedinthefoodcupboardandthatitwouldonlytaketenminutesandI’dbeonmywaytoMiles’smother’splace,butwhenIarrived,Iwasshockedtodiscoverthistimehereallyhadgottenstuckinthewall.Howhegotthereremainsamystery,butwecutaholeinthedrywalltogethimout.
Itwasoneofmanyemergencysituationsoverthepastfewdays.Iattributeittothefullmoon.Theyalwaysmakecatsandtheirhumansalittlesquirrely.
TodayIarriveatMiles’smother’shousereadytospendqualitytimewithPrinceFrancis.Nowthatheseemstohavecalmeddown,I’vebeenrotatingnights,spendingoneathomeandonewithPrinceFrancis.He’sstoppedknockingthingsoffshelvesanddressers,soI’mconsideringitawin.OnceMiles’smotherissettledinthehome,I’mcrossingmyfingersthey’llallowhimtolivewithher.
IexpectPrinceFrancistogreetmeassoonasIwalkthroughthedoor,buthedoesn’t.Iassumehe’seithermadatmefornotstayingoverlastnight,orhe’sinnapmode.
Ileavemypurseonthetableatthefrontentranceandtoeoffmyshoes,nolongerworriedaboutbrokentrinketssincemosthavebeenpackedordisposedofatthispoint.I’monmywaytothekitchentograbhistreatswhenIhearafemalevoice.
“PrinceFrancis!Comeoutfromunderthebed!”
Ihaltandlisten,myheartsuddenlyinmythroat.Miles’scarisn’tinthedriveway,andI’msurehewouldhaveletmeknowifsomeonewassupposedtostopby.
“Comeout,PrinceFrancis!Ihavetreatsforyou!”
Maybeit’saneighbor?Iconsiderleavingandcomingbacklater,butwhatifit’snot?Ifollowthevoiceupthestairs.Idon’twanttoscareanyone,butifthere’sacatnapperinthehouse,Ialsodon’twanttoalertthemtomypresence.Ipickupaceramicfigurineonmywaydownthehallandcringeatthesqueakinthefloorboards.
Thefirstdooronthesecondflooriswideopen.Toby’sroom.Ipeekinandfindawomancrouchedonallfours,withhercheekpressedtothefloor.Herbackistome.Herlonghairispulledupinaponytailandthreadedthroughwithgray.ShemakesatuttingsoundandpleadswithPrinceFrancis.“Youknowyou’renotallowedinToby’sroomwhenhe’satschool.Comeonout,PrinceFrancis,andI’llgiveyouabigtreat.Ihavecansoftunainthecupboard.Ifyou’reagoodboy,I’llshareitwithyou.”
Myheartskipsanotherbeat;thismustbeMiles’smother.IhavenoideahowshemanagedtogethereifMilesisn’twithher.
Iclearmythroatandknockonthedoor,addressingherformally.“Excuseme,Ms.Thorn?”
Shestartlesandpushesupontoherknees,twistingtofaceme.Herbrowspulltogetherinafurrow.IcanseepiecesofMilesinherface.Theyhavethesameeyesandnose,andthesamelanky,leanbuild.“Hello.AreyouToby’stutor?Heisn’thomefromschoolyet.”
Igiveherasmallsmile,unsurehowtoproceed.“I’mafriendofMiles.I’vebeentakingcareofPrinceFranciswhileyou’vebeenaway.”
Thatearnsmeanotherlooksofconfusion.“AfriendofMiles?”
“MynameisKittyHart.I’maprofessionalcatsitter.”Ifigurefactsarethebestwaytogo.IfshestillthinksTobyisalive,Mileswouldonlybeelevenandnotlikelytohavewomenfriendsintheirmidtwenties.
“KittyHart?Professionalcatsitter?”Shetipsherhead.HermouthopensinanO,andherhandsflutteraroundintheair.“Oh!Oh!KittyHart!Iknowyou!IfollowyouonInstagramandTikTok!Iloveyourposts!”Shepushesupoffthefloorandwipesherhandsonherhips.Shetakesoneofmyhandsinbothofhersandpumpsitvigorously.“Itoldmysonaboutyou.Ihadtogoawayforawhile.”Hereyebrowstrytotoucheachother.“Idon’tknowwhy.”Herexpressionshiftsagain,eyessuddenlymurkyanddistant.“Myyoungestboyshouldbehomefromschoolsoon.Ishouldmakehimasnack.”
Iswallowdownapangofsadnessasshepatsmeontheshoulderandheadsforthedoor.“Comealong,sweetheart,I’llmakeyouasnack,too.KittyHartinmyhouse.Whataday.”
Ifollowhertothekitchen,leavingPrinceFrancisinToby’sbedroom.He’llcomedownwhenhehearsthetreatbagbeingopened.ImakeastopatthefrontdoorandgrabmyphonefrommypursesoIcanmessageMiles.Ihaveafeelinghismothershowinguphereisn’tasurprisetoonlyme.
Shestopswhenshereachesthelivingroom.“Ohmygoodness!Myknickknacks!Didsomeonestealthem?”
“PrinceFranciswasknockingthemofftheshelves,soweboxedthemup,”Iexplain.
IquicklyfireoffamessagetoMilestolethimknowthathismotherishere,atherhouse,andthatI’mtryingtofindoutinformationbutI’mnotsurehowsuccessfulI’llbe,andthatheshouldprobablycallthecarefacilityandletthemknow.
Hemessagesbackrightawaytotellmehejustgotacallfromthenightnurseandthathe’srelievedthatshe’swithmeandnotwanderingthestreets.Heasksmetokeephertalkingandsaysthathe’llbehereassoonashecan.
Miles’smother—Tabitha—standsinfrontoftheopenfridgepeeringatthecontents.“Ican’trememberwhatI’mlookingfor.”
“Youweregoingtomakeasnack,”Iremindher.
“Ohyes.Asnackisagoodidea.Wecanhaveteaandcookies.”
“Thatsoundsperfect.”IopenthecupboardwherePrinceFrancis’streatsarestoredandshakethecontainer.Hecomestrottingintothekitchenafewsecondslater,meowingloudly.
“Oh!There’smyboy!Imissedyou,PrinceFrancis!”TabithacrouchesandIpassherthetreatssoshecanfeedhim.Herubshimselfonherlegsandpurrs.
“Hemissedyoutoo,verymuch.”
“IfeellikeI’vebeenawayforalongtime,butI’mnotsurewhy.”Shegivesmeasmallsmile.“Thathappensalot.Iforgetthings.”
“Doyouknowhowyougotheretoday?”Iask.
ShepursesherlipsandrubsunderPrinceFrancis’schin.“Imusthavewalked?”Sheblinksafewtimes,asifshe’ssearchinghermemory.“Icamefromthehospital,maybe?”
BasedonwhatMileshastoldme,thewingwhereshe’sstayingisabitlesssecurethantherestofthehospital.“Doyourememberwhyyouwerethere?”
SheshakesherheadandpicksPrinceFrancisup,holdinghimlikeababy.“Doyouknow?”
“Whydon’tyousitdownandcuddlewithPrinceFrancis.IcanexplainwhatIknowandseeifithelpsjogyourmemoryatall.”HearingaboutMiles’smotherisalotdifferentfromwitnessingitfirsthand.
Shenodsandsinksintooneofthechairsatthekitchentable.Iputthekettleonanddropteabagsintomugs,thensetthemilkandsugaronthetableandtakeaseatacrossfromher.“Yourememberbeinginthehospital?”I’mnotsurehowquicklyhermemoriessurfaceandfade,andIhavenoexperiencewithdementia.I’veworkedwithotherclientswhohaveparentswhosufferthesameaffliction,butI’venevermetortalkedtosomeonewhosememoryhasstartedtofailtheminthewayitseemsTabitha’shas.
“Yes.ButIdon’tfeelsick.”
Ismilegently.“You’renotsickphysically.WhenMilescalledmetoaskifIcouldhelphimlookafterPrinceFrancis,itwasbecauseyou’dleftthehouseinthemiddleofthenightandendedupdowntown,unsurehowyougotthereorwhyyouwerethere.You’dforgotten.”
Shenodsslowly.“Iforgetthings.”PrinceFrancissettlesinherlap,andshestrokesalonghisback,gazedriftingacrosstheroom.“SometimesI’mnotsureifI’mlivinginthepastorthepresent.Thishousedoesthattome.”
Myheartclenches,andIswallowpastthelumpinmythroat.“Youhavealotofmemorieshere.”
Shehumsheragreement.“Notallofthemgood,though.”Shedropsherhead.“Ilostmyyoungestsonwhenhewasjustaboy.”
Itmustbeheartbreakingtoliveinsideamindthattricksyouconstantly,makingyoubelievethethingsyou’velostarestillthereoneminute,andthentakingthemawayagainthenext.“Miles’syoungerbrother,Toby.Milestoldmeyoulosthimwhenhewasonlyeight.”
“Itwassuchatragedy.Icouldn’tgetovertheloss.AndthenIlostMilesandhisfatherbecauseIcouldn’tletgoofToby.”Sheliftshershakingfingerstoherlips.
“Thatmusthavebrokenyourheart.”Losingmyfather,andfeelingtheweightofresponsibility,wascrushing,buttoloseachildandthenhaveyourfamilyfallapart,too,thatwouldbesoulshattering.Maybemindbreaking.
“Itwasmyfault.Ishouldn’thaveleftMilesinchargeofToby.He’djustgottenabrand-newtwo-wheeler.Ishouldhaveleftthegardensaloneandgoneoutwithhimforhalfanhour,butIwastoocaughtupinpickingthetomatoesbeforethesquirrelsgottothem.Tobycameoutsideandaskedifhecouldridehisbike,andItoldhimtoaskMilestowatchhim.Mileswasplayinghisvideogame—hehadhalfanhourafterschooltoplay,andhewassogoodaboutstickingtothattimeline.Butitwasanewgame,andhockey,whichhe’sveryfondof.”Shesmilesfaintly,butitdissolvesintosadnessonceagain.“Iguesshetooktoolongtofinishhislevel,andTobywentoutsidewithouthimandwelosthim.”
HearingthestoryfromTabithashedsadifferentlightonit.AndIcanseethatMilesisn’ttheonlyonewhofeelsculpability.“I’msosorry.Whataterribletragedyforyouandyourfamily.”
“TobyandMilesweresoclose,eventhoughMileswasafewyearsolder.Theystilldideverythingtogether.Andthenhewasjustgone.Iwasn’tagoodmotherforMilesafterthat,andIthinkheblamedhimselfforwhathappenedtoToby,eventhoughitwasmyfault.”
Thepiecesofthepuzzlefallintoplace,andIappreciateevenmorehowdifficultthismustbeforMiles.Tobebackinthishousewherehisfamilyfellapart.Toseehismother’smindfailingher,tohaveherslippinginandoutofthepresentandbackintothepastfromonemomenttothenext,withnounderstandingofwhattriggersitorhowandwhenitgotsobad.
Iwanttooffercomfort,togivehersomepeace.Iempathizewithheronsomanylevels.AndforTabitha,shenotonlylostherson,butherentirefamily.Andnowsheonlyrememberstheminshortblipsoftime.Itseemsasthoughtherehasn’tbeenclosureforanyoneinthisfamily.They’vebeensuspendedintheirgrief,holdingontoit,lettingitgrow.Andtheweedsofsorrowhavespreadoutandblanketedthem.Coveredoverthegoodmemories,leavingbehindonlychokingvinesofpain.
I’mbeginningtowonderifI’veunwittinglydonethesame.
Icoverherhandwithmineandsqueeze.ButbeforeIcansayanythingelse,thefrontdooropens.“Kitty?Mom?”Milescallsout.
“We’reinthekitchen,”Ireply.
Tabitha’sheadlifts,andtheclarityIsawinhereyesamomentagoisnolongerthere.Instead,it’sreplacedwithafog,asifthosevinesofmemorieshavechokedoutrealityagainandreplaceditwiththepast.“Oh!Toby’shomefromschool!I’msogladyougettomeethim.”ShesmilesasMilesappearsinthedoorway.
Helooksfrazzled,andhisusuallyneatlystyledhairisindisarray,asifhisfingershavebeeninit.Orhegotcaughtinafreaktornadothatwasonlybigenoughtotouslehishair.
Hisgazebouncesbetweenhismother,me,andthecupsofteaonthetable.“Hey,how’sitgoing?”
“It’ssogoodthatyou’rehome.AndjustintimetomeetMiles’sfriend.HernameisKitty.Isyourbrotherwithyou,ordoeshehaveafter-schoolactivitiestoday?”
Miles’ssmilefaltersfractionally,andhisthroatbobswithaheavyswallow.Hisvoiceisunsteadywhenhesays,“I’mMiles,Mom.”
“Oh.Yes.Ofcourse.Youalwayslooksomuchalike.”Herbrowfurrows.“Where’sToby?”
“He’snothere.”
“Didhegotoafriend’shouse?”
Milesbitestheinsideofhislip,maybedebatingwhetherheshouldbehonest.“Yeah,hedid.”
“Oh,okay.Idon’trememberhimtellingmethatbeforehewenttoschool.”ShestrokesPrinceFrancis,herlipspursed.
Eventually,Milesconvincesherthattheyneedtogoforadrive.Icantellhe’sstrugglingwiththelies,butthatthetruthcouldupsether.
“Icancomealongifyou’dlike,”IofferquietlyasTabithagetsreadytoleave.
Hehesitatesandclearshisthroatbeforehesays,“Youdon’tneedtodothat.”
Iputahandonhisarm.“I’dliketo,ifyou’dlikemeto.”
Hisjawworksforafewsecondsbeforehenodsonce.“Yeah.Please.Thatwouldbegreat.”chapterseventeenKITTYCOMFORTMiles
Kittysitsinthebackseatwhilemymothersitsinthefront.SheinsistedthatwebringPrinceFrancisalong.I’veneverhadhiminacarbefore,soIpopanantihistaminetocounteractanypotentialissuesbeinginsuchaconfinedspacewithacatmaycause.Ontheupside,ifIenduphavingareaction,IhaveanEpiPenandtherearelotsofmedicalprofessionalswherewe’regoing.
Whenmymomrealizeswe’reatthehospitalagain,shebecomesagitated,andittakesateamofstafftogetheroutofthecarandbacktoherroom.Allthewhile,sheyellsatme,tellingmeI’mtakingherawayfromherhomeandthatI’monlydoingitbecauseIblameherforwhathappenedtoToby.
KittystaysinthecarwithPrinceFrancis,whichispreferabletohavingherwitnessmoreofmymom’smeltdownoncetheygetherthroughthedoors.AndeventhoughIknowitisn’therfaultthatshereactsthisway,it’spainfultowatch.
Eventuallytheymanagetocalmherdown.IreturntothecarandfindKittyhasmovedtothefront.PrinceFrancisisinoneofhisfavoriteplaces:drapedacrosshershoulders.
Idropintothedriver’sseat.“I’msorryaboutthis.”
Shesqueezesmyarm.“Youdon’tneedtobesorry.Wouldyoulikemetodrive?”
“I’mokay.”Ifeeltheoppositeofokay.
“Youdon’tneedtoputonabravefaceforme,Miles.Iwouldn’tbeokayifIwasinyourshoes,sowhateveryouneedfrommerightnow,I’mhere,whetherit’sjusttobepresent,ordrive,orlisten.”
Ifeellikeadeflatedballoon.“Doyouminddriving?”
“Notatall.”Sheunbucklesherseatbelt,unwrapsPrinceFrancisfromaroundherneck,setshimonthedashboardandexitsthecar,closingthedoorbehindher,presumablysoPrinceFrancisdoesn’tgetanyideasaboutdoingarunner.
Idothesameandmeetheratthehood.
It’scoldtoday,theairpuffingoutinfoggyburstsbeforedisappearing.
Shetipsherheadup,herexpressionfullofcompassionandsadness.Sheopensherarms.“Youlooklikeyoucoulduseahug.”
Idon’tevencarethatI’msoemotionallytransparent.Iwrapmyarmsaroundher,andherswindaroundmywaist.“Thankyou.”Ilaymycheekontopofherhead.
“Nothanksneeded.I’msorrythatwassotough.”Shesqueezes.
“Youmakeitbetter,”Imutter.
Andit’strue.Shedoes.Idon’tknowhowthishappened,orwhenweshiftedfrommutualdisdaintolike,butKittyappearedinmylifeatexactlytherighttime.Isendathank-youtothepowersthatbeandtheinternetforputtingheronmyscreenandinmypath.
I’mnotsurehowlongwestandthere,buteventuallythemuffledangrymeowsfrominsidethecarforceusapart.KittygetsbehindthewheelandPrinceFrancisimmediatelytakesupresidenceonhershouldersagain,groomingherhair,thenshakinghisheadaroundwhenitgetsstucktohistongue.Iattempttorelocatehimtomylap,buthe’sdeterminedtobeanaccessory.
“I’msosorryyouhadtodealwiththat.”
Kittypullsoutofthehospitalparkinglotandheadstowardmymother’shouse.“It’sreallyokay,Miles.Shewasactuallyquitepleasantbutmostlyconfused.Iunderstandthere’saverydifferentsidetothat,especiallywhenshe’sconfrontedwithreality.”
Iletmyheadfallback.“Yeah,that’sbeenthebiggestchallenge.TellingherTobyisgonesetsheroff.Itsuckstolietoher,butIdon’twanttosendherovertheedgeallthetime.”
“There’snowinninginasituationlikethat,foreitherofyou.Ithurtstoseepeopleyoucareaboutfallingapartlikethat.”
“I’mguessingyouknowthisfromexperience,whatwithlosingyourdadwhenyouwereyounger.”IrealizeIneedthiskindofconnection,someonewhocanrelatetowhatI’mdealingwith,evenifit’snotquitethesame.Bothofushavebigholesinourlivescreatedbytheabsenceofpeoplewelove.
Kittynods.“Mymomreallystruggledwhenhepassedaway,whichmakessense.Theywerebestfriends.TheyhadthekindofloveyouseeinHallmarkmovies,andtheymadeyoubelieveinsoulmatesandforevers.Hewouldliterallydoanythingforher.Thesunroseandsetonmymotherandmysisterandme.Wasitthesameforyouwithyourfamily?”
Ithinkaboutthatforaminute.Whatlifewaslikegrowingup,howsuddenlyeverythingshifted.“TobyandIwereclose.HewasmoreathleticthanIwas,betteratsports,moreofanatural,whereIhadtoworkhard.HeplayedhockeylikeIdid.Andwealwaysplayedtogetherinthedriveway.Mymomwouldkeephercarinthegaragesowedidn’tputdentsinit.”
Kittymakesaface.“Didshelearnthatbytrialanderror?”
Ichuckle.“Ohyeah.Tobyhitthedriver’ssidedoorandputasoliddentinit,butIdidn’twanthimtogetintrouble,becausehewasalwaysthemoremischievousofthetwoofus.SoIsaidI’dbeentheonetodoit.Idon’tthinkourmombelievedus,butafterthatsheparkedthecarinthegarage.”
“Itsoundslikeyouhadagreatrelationshipwithher.”
“Idid.Wealldid.Obviously,ourfamilywasn’tperfect,butweweregood.AndthenwelostToby,andallthosegoodmemorieswereovershadowedbyallthebadthingsthathappenedafterward.Mymotherfellapart.Andmydad…hewasdevastated.”Ishakemyhead,thinkingbacktothatday.“TheyblockedofftheentirestreetwhenTobygothit.Ourneighborswerethefirstonesonthescenebecauseithappenedinfrontoftheirhouse.Ihearditfrominsidethehouse,andwhenIwentoutsideTobywas…hishelmethadn’tbeenonproperly.Sometimeshe’dloosenitbecausehehatedthechinstrap.”Ipause,chokingonemotions.“Itwasclearhewasgone,butIstillwantedtobelievehewasokay.Mynext-doorneighborstoppedmefromrunningacrossthestreettogettohim,andsomeoneelsewentandgotmymotherinthebackyard.Bythetimemydadgothome,therewerepolicecarseverywhereandanambulance.Ithinkmymotherbrokethatday.Itwasprobablythesameformydad,buthehadtokeepittogetherwhenmymothercouldn’t.WhenTobydied,sodidourfamily.”
“Myhearthurtsforallofyou.”Kittyreachesoverandgivesmyhandagentlesqueezebeforesheputsitbackonthewheelandsignalsleftintomymother’ssubdivision.“Yourmomtoldmeabitaboutwhathappenedthatday.”
Theflashesofmemoryarehardtohandle,andIswallowdownthepain.
“SherememberedthatTobywasgone?”
“Forafewminutessheseemed…clear?Likesheknewwhatwasrealandwhatwasthepast.Sheadmittedthatsheforgotthingsalot,andsherememberedlosingTobyandhowharditwasonyou.”Shepullsintomymother’sdrivewayandshiftsthecarintopark,cuttingtheengine.“Frommyownexperience,andfromhearingmorethanonesideofyours,it’seasytogetcaughtinthefantasyofwhatifthingshadbeendifferentandlivethere.”
Inod,absorbingherwords.“That’sitexactly.Iwanttogobackandchangethepast,butIcan’t.AndthewaymyfamilyimplodedafterthatwasmorethanIcouldhandle.IbelievedIwasthereasonithappened.AndnomatterhowhardItry,it’sdifficultnottofeelthatwaystill.”Andinthatmoment,Iseethetruthinthatstatement.Thatmyignoringmybrotherandmymom’srequesttowatchhimisthereasonwelosthim.
“Tragedycantearpeopleapart,insideandout,”Kittysayssoftly.“Youjusthavetofindawaytoletitgosoyoucanhealfromit.”
PrinceFrancisstretchesoutandsettlesapawonmyshoulder,headbuttingmyfaceandlickingmyearwhilemeowingplaintively.
Ichuckle,gladforthelevity,andgivehisheadabriefscratch.
“Doyouhavetogobacktothecity,ordoyouwanttocomeinside?”Kittyinclinesherheadtowardthehouse.“Ordoesitholdtoomanysadmemoriestonight?”
“Icanhandlethememories.”Idon’twanttoleavenow,notwhenitfeelslikeKittyandIarecloserthanever
IgatherupPrinceFrancis,whosurprisinglydoesn’ttrytojumpoutofmyarms,andweheadinside.
“ShouldImakeussometea?”Kittyasksoncewe’restandinginthemostlypackedlivingroom.
“Maybewecanseeifthere’ssomethingstrongerhangingaround?”
“Ohsure.IthinkIrememberseeingbrandyinthepantry.Let’scheck.”IfollowKittytothekitchen,andsheopensthepantrydoorandpullsonthestringdanglingfromtheceiling,thebarebulblightingupthesmallspace.
Thereareplentyofcannedgoodsandcattreats.PrinceFranciswindsbetweenourlegs,meowinginsistently.Ispotabottleofbrandyandanotherofvodka,bothonthetopshelf,coveredinathinlayerofdust.IpluckthemfromtheshelfandKittygrabsthedryfood
“I’mnotsurewhatwehavetomixthisstuffwith,”IadmitasIsetthemonthecounterandopenthefridge.“Ah!There’sgrapefruitjuiceand—”Ifrownandpullanold-schoolclearTupperwarejugthatIrememberfrommychildhoodandholditupforKittytosee.“ThislookssuspiciouslylikeTang.”
Kitty’scheeksflushandsheducksherhead.“That’sbecauseitisTang.Don’tjudgeme.It’saguiltypleasure.”
“I’mnotknockingyourTanglove.I’mtheguywhoorderstheorangedrinkfromMcDonald’sonpurpose.”Imotiontotheselectiononthecounterandpulltwoglassesfromthecupboard.“Whatjuiceandboozecombowouldyouprefer?”
“Tangandbrandy?”It’smorequestionthanadefinitiveanswer.
“HowaboutImakeoneofeach,andyoucantastethembothbeforeyoudecide?”
“Sure.Soundsgood.”
PrinceFrancisyowlsatherfromthefloor,hisbrowfurrowedindispleasurebecausehiswetfooddishisempty.Kittyopensanewcanofwetfood,spoonshalfofitonhisplate,andputstherestinthefridge.
OnceI’vemadetwoverystiffdrinks,KittytastesthembothandchoosestheTangandbrandycombination,IdownmyTangandvodkaandmakemyselfasecondonebeforeweheadtothelivingroom.
Ipurposelysitbetweentwocushions,andKittydropsdownbesideme,foldingherlegsunderhersoherfeetrestagainstthesideofmyleg.“Ididn’tunderstandhowbadthingswerewithyourmotheruntiltoday,”sheadmits.
“NeitherdidI.It’ssortofbeentriageuptothispoint.Iwasstrugglingwiththedecisionofputtingherinahome,butaftertodayIknowit’stherightmove,”Iadmit.
“She’llbesafethere.Didyoufindoutwhathappenedthatshemanagedtogetoutundetected?”
“Apparentlyshetimedherdeparturewithshiftchangeandwalkedrightoutthefrontdoors.Bythetimetheyrealizedshewasgone,shewasalreadyonherwayhere.”
“Wow.That’s…impressive?Shemusthavehadamomentofrealclarity.”
Inod.“Eitherthatorshegotlucky?Iguessshe’dbeenaskingaboutPrinceFrancisandwhensomeonewasbringinghimtoher.ItoldherI’darrangedforavisit.It’spossibleitgotstuckinherheadandsheendeduphere.Afterthis,Idoubtthey’llletherkeephimatthehome.Iworrythatshe’dlosehim,orforgettofeedhim,orgointheoppositedirectionandoverfeedhim.”Irunahandthroughmyhair.“MaybeIshouldtakehimbacktomyplace.I’mnotsurehowWilfredwouldfeelabouthavingacatinthehouse,butIdon’tseealotofotheroptions.”
“Icouldtakehim.Hecouldlivewithme.”Asifheknowswe’retalkingabouthim,PrinceFrancisjumpsuponthebackofthecouch,headbuttsmeinthecheek,thencontinueson,puttinghisbuttrightinmyfaceasherubshischeekagainstKitty’s.Hethensniffsherdrinkandhopsdowntoperchonthearmofthecouch.
“Ican’taskyoutodothat.”
“You’renotasking.I’moffering.IseehowmuchyourmotherlovesPrinceFrancis,andifheliveswithme,wecanarrangeforregularvisits.Hetravelswellinacar,andI’dbehappytotakehim.”Shereachesbehindherandscratcheshishead.“It’sbeenalongtimesincewe’vehadacatinthehouse,andhe’dbetheperfectadditiontomyfamily.Andifthingschangeandyourmotherendsupbeingabletotakecareofacat,wecantransitionhimbacktoher.”
“Wouldyoubeokaywiththat?Keepinghimtemporarily?”
“WeusedtofostercatsallthetimewhenIwasakid.Smokeywasourfull-timekitty,butwewouldkeepothercatsforafewweeksatatime.Weevenhadafewthatstayedwithusforclosetosixmonths.”
“Wasn’tithardtoletthemgo?”Ican’timaginegivingupWilfred.Althoughwitheverythinggoingonwithmymotherandmyworkschedule,it’sbeentough.JoeandMarkhavebeengreatabouttakingcareofhimwhileI’mdealingwiththis.
Kittyliftsashoulderandletsitfall.“Sometimes.Butweknewtheyweregoingtogoodhomes,withhumanswhowouldlovethemandtakecareofthem,soithelpedeasethesting.”
“Whydidyoustopfostering?”Iask.
Kittytakesalongsipofherdrink.“Smokeywasmydad’scat,alwayssatonhislapwhenhewaswatchingTV.Basicallyfollowedhimaroundlikeapuppy.He’devengoforwalkswithmydad.HeranawayafewmonthsaftermydadpassedandIjustcouldn’tfathomgettinganewcat.Itwastoohard.Myheartcouldn’ttakeanymorebruises.Wewerestrugglingtokeepourheadsabovewaterasafamily.Soweputfosteringonpauseandneverreallytookitoff.Untilnow.”Shegivesmeasmallsmile.
“Areyousureyou’regoingtobeokaywiththat?Shouldyoutalktoyourfamilyfirst?”
“Mymomhasmentionedgettinganotherpet,butI’veoftenbeentheonetoshootdowntheidea.I’llrunitbyherfirst,butIthinkbothsheandHattiewillbeonboard.AlthoughIhaveafeelingHattiewillbeoutofthehouseassoonasshegraduatesfromcollege.”
“Whydoyousaythat?”Imethersisteratthepubtheothernight,butIdidn’tgetachancetoreallytalktoher.
“She’sreadytomoveonwithherlife.”Kittypropshercheekonherfist.“Ourhouseisalotlikeyourbrother’sroom.”
“Howdoyoumean?”
“Nothinghaschangedsincemydadpassedawaytenyearsago.Everythingisthesame,fromthepaintonthewallstothefurnitureinthelivingroom.Theonlyspacethat’sshiftedisHattie’sroom.It’sgrownandchangedwithher.”Kitty’slipslidesbetweenherteeth.“Mymomstillsetsaplaceformydadatthetable.”
Myheartclenches,andIsetmymostlyemptyglassonthecoffeetablesoIcantakeKitty’shandinmine,givingitagentlesqueeze.“Isthatokayforyou?”
Kittysighsandlooksuptotheceiling.“Atfirstitwasoneofthosethingsmymomdidoutofhabit,andwe’veallaccepteditasnormal,Iguess.”
“JustlikemymomneverchangedToby’sroom.”
Kittynods.“Ithinkinalotofwaysthesituationwithyourmommirrorsmyown.I’mstartingtoseethatbynotdoinganythingtoreallychangethewaywedothings,I’mhelpingkeepthings…stuck.IfIgiveintochange,I’mlettinggo,andI’vehadahardtimedoingthat.”
“Butyou’renottheonewhosetstheplacesettingforyourdadeveryday.”
“TherehavebeentimeswhenIassumedmymomforgot,soIwentaheadanddiditforher.Butmaybeshehadn’tforgotten,maybeitwasintentional,andmesettingtheplaceanywaymakesmepartoftheproblem,notthesolution.”Shelacesherfingerswithmine.“WhenyourmomsaidthatshethinksyoublameyourselfforwhathappenedtoToby,itreallyhithome.Becauseinalotofways,Iblamemyselfforwhathappenedtomydad.IfI’dbeenpayingattention,IwouldhaverealizedthatSmokeywantedmetogoupstairsforareason.MaybeIwouldhavegottentohimintime.ButIdidn’t.SoI’vetrappedmyselfinthisloopofguiltandfear.Ihaven’tbeensurehowtomoveforward,maybebecauseIfeelalotlikeIdon’tnecessarilydeserveto.”
“Doyoueverfeellikemaybeweweremeanttocomeintoeachother’slivesatexactlythistime?Likedestinyhadaplan,”Iask.
“Anditinvolvedahairlesscat.”Kittysmilessoftlyandnods.
“AndatriptotheER.”
Webothgrin.
“Andbeingtackledtotheflooroverawatergun.”
Icringe.“I’mnevergoingtolivethatonedown.”
“Ididn’tmindbeingtackledbyyou.”Hersmileturnscoy.“Sortoflikeyoudidn’tmindbeingattackedbymylips.”
“Ilovedbeingattackedbyyourlips.”Mygazedartsdownasherbottomoneslidesbetweenherteeth.
WhenImeethergazeagain,Iseemyowndesirereflectedbackatme.Weleaninatthesametime,tippingourheads,eyesfallingclosedasourlipsconnect.Notanattackthistime,butagentlepress.Soft,butsure.
Islidemyhandunderherhairandcurlmyfingersaroundthebackofherdelicateneck,partingmylipsasshedoesthesame.Everymovementisamirror,synchronized.Webothhumandshift,andsuddenlyKitty’snolongerbesidemeonthecouch,she’sstraddlingmylap.Sherunsherhandsovermyshouldersandupthesidesofmyneck,fingersdraggingalongmyscalpasshepressesherchesttomine.
She’sallsoftcurvesasItrailmyfingersdownhersideandletmyhandcometorestonherhip.Iwanttopullhercloser,touchmoreofher,getlostinthefeelofher,forgetabouttoday.
Ourglassesclinkandminepushagainstmycheekaswedeepenthekiss.Webothpullbackatthesametime.
“Stupidglasses,”Kittymuttersandtakeshersoff,foldinginthearmsandtossingthemaside.
Idothesame,andthenwe’rebacktomakingout.
Eventuallyherhandsstarttoroam,leavingmyhairtotrailovermyshouldersanddownmyarms.Shegivesmybicepsasqueezeandmakesanoise,somewherebetweenahumandasigh,andgoeslower,untilshereachesmybeltbuckle.I’mstillwearingadressshirtandtie,havingcomedirectlyfromateammeeting.Shetugstheshirtfreefrommypantsandshimmiesbackonmylaptogiveherenoughspacetostartunbuttoning.Idon’tknowexactlyhowfarthisisgoingtogotonight,butI’munbelievablygratefulthatJoshtossedaboxofcondomsintomygloveboxafterItoldhimI’daskedKittyoutonadate.I’malsoextragratefulthathetookituponhimselftoputoneinmywallet,eventhoughIassuredhimweweren’tatthegettingnakedstage.ItlooksasthoughImightbewrongaboutthat.
Kittyworksherwaythroughthebuttons,butbecauseI’mstillwearingatie,whenshegetsclosetothetop,shebreaksthekissandleansback.Shemakesthesamefaceshedidwhensheattackedmewithherlipsinthebar.“HereIamtryingtotakeyourclothesoffwithoutevenaskingifit’sokay.”
“IwouldhavesaidsomethingifIwasn’tonboardwiththeshirtremoval,butIappreciateyoumakingsure.”Itugonmytie,looseningitenoughthatIcanpullitovermyhead.“Wouldyouliketofinishthejob,orwouldyouprefertogobacktomakingout?”
Shetapsherbottomlip.“Both,tobequitehonest,butIfeellikethelasttwobuttonswillbeachallengeifourlipsarelocked.Sofirstwelosetheshirt,thenwegobacktomakingout?”
“I’mabsolutelywillingtodelaygratificationforeaseofshirtremoval.”
Webothsmile,andsheunfastensthelasttwobuttons.Itipmychinupforherwhenshereachesthecollar,andherfingersslidebetweenthefabricandthehollowofmythroat.Whenshe’sdone,shekissesthebottomofmychin.
I’mabouttocomebackinforanotherkiss,butshecoversmylipswithtwofingers.“Ifit’sokaywithyou,I’dliketodelaygratificationforafewmoresecondsandtakeamomenttoappreciatehowsexyyouarewithoutashirton.Thelasttimeyouwereshirtless,Iwastryingtomakesureyouweren’tgoingtobleedoutfromPrinceFrancis’snails.”
“I’mmorethanhappytobetherecipientofyourappreciation.”BeingaroundguyswhoarebuiltlikebrickshithousesmeanssometimesIgetself-consciousaboutmylackofbeefiness.ButKittysomehowmakesmefeellikeAdonis.
Sherunsherhandsdownmychestandbackup.“Oh!Weshouldbeeven,shouldn’twe?”BeforeIhaveachancetounpackwhatthatmeans,shepullsonthesleeveofhercardiganandtugsitfreefromherarm,thendoesahalfwavewiththeotherone,droppingittothefloor.ShegrabsthehemofherKittyWhispererT-shirtandyanksitoverherhead.
Underthatshirtisaverysexybra.It’spinkandgraycheetahprint—whichshouldnotbeasurpriseatall—withpinklacetrim.Andthecleavage.GoodGodthecleavage.Kittyhasanincrediblebody.AndIwanttoputmyhandsandmouthoneveryinchofher.
“Miles?”Hervoiceissoftanduncertain.
“Huh?”Idragmygazeawayfromherchestanduptoherface.Ontheway,Inoticethatherneckandchesthaveturnedaslightlyblotchyredcolor.
“ShouldIputmyshirtbackon?”
“What?No.Hellno.Whywouldyousuggestsuchathing?”
“Youlookedlikeadeerinheadlights.Andnotinagoodway.”
“Shit.Sorry.”Igivemyheadashake.“IgotlostinhowsexyyouareandhowmuchI’mlookingforwardtooglingyournipplesthewaytheyogledmethelasttimeIwasshirtless.”
Kittygrins.“Oh,that’sgood.They’dactuallybedoingthatrightnowiftheyweren’thiddenbehindlayersoffabricandpadding.”
“Shouldwesetthemfreeandgivethemwhattheywant?”Iarchabrow.“AndwhatIwant,too,obviously.”
Kittynodsandherhandsmovetoherchest,whichiswhenIrealizeit’safrontclaspbra.
“Icoulddoit.Ifyou’reokaywiththat.”
“Iam.It’sabittricky,though.”Hercheeksflushpink.
“Ifmystrugglebecomesembarrassinglylong,youcanhelpmeout?”
“Okay.”Shenodsonceandrollshershouldersback,juttingherchesttowardmyface.
AsmuchasIwanttodiverightinandflickthatclaspopen,Islowthingsdown.ThisisanexperienceIwanttosavor,aslowunveiling.Iskimalonghersidesandwrapmyhandsaroundherwaist,thumbssweepingalongtheundersideofherbra.Ileaninandkisshercollarbone,thendipdownanddragmylipsalongthelaceedgebeforeIsitbackandfollowthesamepathwithmyfingersuntiltheymeetattheclasp.
“Folditouttowardyou,thenonesidegoesupandtheothergoesdown,”Kittywhispers.
“Thanksforthetutorial.”Islipasinglefingerundertheclaspanddoexactlywhatshesays.Atfirst,Igointhewrongdirection,butitonlytakesmeasecondtorealizeitopenstheotherway.Thetwosidesseparate,andIgriptheminmyfingers,holdingthemtogether.
IliftmygazetoKitty’s.Herchestrisesandfallswithanticipation.
“ThisfeelsalotlikeunwrappingaChristmaspresent,”Itellher.
“It’smyfavoriteholiday,asidefromHalloween,whichreallyisn’taholidaybutshouldbe,”Kittyreplies.
“Iagree.”IreleasethecupsandthebraslidesoverKitty’sshouldersanddropsontotheflooratmyfeet.Ifmybrainwereagif,itwouldbethesinglewordboobsflashingwithballoonsbeingdroppedonmyfaceinatorrent.“CanItouchthem?”Iaskherchest.
“Wewouldlikethat,”shewhispers
“Awesome.”Icuponefullswellineachpalm.“Hello,ladies.”
Kittylaughs,andIsmileasIleaninandpressakisstoeachswell,thencircleanipplewithmytonguebeforeIcoveritwithmymouth.Idevotethesameattentiontotheotherbreast—noonelikestobeleftout—andKitty’shandsslideintomyhair,grippingthestrandstightlyasshearches.
Eventuallyshepullsmyheadbackandclaimsmymouthwithhersagain.Unlikethesoft,easykissespre-shirtlessness,thisoneisfullofpassionanddesire.Ourteethclashandourtonguestangle.Kitty’schestpressesagainstmine,skintoskin,andwewrapourarmsaroundeachother,likewe’retryingtofuseourbodies.
Ourhandsroamoverbareskin,touching,groping,caressing.Whenwebreakthekiss,we’rebothpanting.
Kitty’shandsdroptomybelt.“Weshould—”Herwordsarecutshortwhenshescreamsandbarsanarmacrossherchest.Hereyesarewideandhercheeksareflushedpink.“OhmyGod!”Shebringstheotherhanduptocoverhereyes.
Ilookdownatmyself,wonderingifI’mtheproblem,butallIseearemyownnipplesandmysemi-absandmyhard-onpressingexcitedlyagainstmyfly.Iglanceovermyshoulderandshoutprofanity.
Sittingonthebackofthecouch,directlyovermyleftshoulder,isPrinceFrancis.Andhe’sglaringatuslikehe’sbeenpossessedbysomedemon.
“Whatthehell,buddy?Hasn’tanyoneevertoldyouit’srudetostare?”
HiseyesflickovertomeandthenbacktoKitty.Heputsapawonmyshoulderandtriestobitemyear.
Ibathimaway,butinsteadofleapingoffthecouch,hedropstothecushionbesideme,extendsaleg,andstartslickinghisparts.
“Maybeweshouldtakethistothebedroom?”Isuggest.
KittymakestheVulcansignwithherfingersandpeeksbetweenthespace.“Thatwouldprobablybeagoodplan.”
Mychildhoodbedroomisnotthemostideallocationforhotsex;however,mymother’scouchwithacatstaringatusoralternatelylickinghisownballsislessideal.IgrabmyshirtanddrapeitoverKitty’sshoulders,puttingahandonherwaisttosteadyherassheshimmiesoffmylap.Ipushtoastandinthenarrowspacebetweenthecouchandthecoffeetable.Myhard-onbumpsintoherstomachthroughmypants
Kittylooksdownandit’sasifherhandhasamagnetattachedtoit,becauseitrisesandcupsme.Igroanandshehums.PrinceFrancis’sheadappearsbesidemyleg.
“Okay.Thisisgettingcreepy,let’sgo.”Igrabherhand—theonecurrentlycuppingmyjunk—andpullhertowardthestairs.
Werushupthem,PrinceFrancistrottingalongbehindus,andIpushherintomybedroomandfollowherinside.PrinceFrancistriestoslipinthenarrowgap,butIsnatchhimup.“Sorry,buddy,thisisforadultsonly.Nocatsallowed.”Itosshimbackoutintothehall.Helandsonthefloorwithasoftthud.Iclosethedoorandturnaround.“Nowwherewerewe?”
Kittyletsmyshirtfalltothefloor.“Iwasabouttotakeyourpantsoff.”chaptereighteenSEXYTIMESKitty
Milescrossestheroomandtakesmyfaceinhishands.HeslantshismouthovermineinasearingkissIfeelfromthetipsofmytoesallthewaytothetopofmyhead.Iclutchhisshouldersandleanintohim,theprominentbulgebehindhisflypressingagainstmystomach.It’slikethere’samagneticforceatwork,drawingourbottomhalvestowardeachother.
Iallowmyhandstodriftdownhisarms,squeezinghisbicepsontheway.WhenIreachhiswaist,Iskimalonghisbeltline.Ittakesrealwillpowertomakeroombetweenourbusinessparts,buttheonlywaytogettothegoodsistogethimoutofhispants.
Iflickopentheclaspofhisbelt,thenpopthebuttonanddragdownhiszipper.MilesgroanswhenIslipafingerinsidehisboxershorts.
Hishandsarestillcuppingmyface.Hebacksupenoughthathisfaceisnolongerblurry.“Shouldwemovetothebed?”
“Wecouldgeteachothernakedfirst?”It’ssortofaquestion.“Unlessyouthinkitwouldbebettertogetnakedafterwe’reonthebed.”
“Allthewaynaked?”heasks.
“That’susuallythebestwaytobeifwe’regoingtohavesex.Unlessthat’snottheplan?”IwishIcouldstopmymouthfromsayingthingsthatcouldembarrassme,especiallyattimeslikethis.“Itdoesn’thavetobetheplan.MaybeI’mgettingaheadofmyself.Ormovingtoofast.”
“You’renot.Movingtoofast.Ijust…didn’twanttomakeassumptions,becauseyouknowhowthatgoes.Itmakesanassoutofyouandme.I’mmorethanhappytogettotallynakedwithyou,righthereoronthebed.Eitherway.I’min.”Milespullshiswalletoutofhisbackpocketandtossesitacrosstheroom.Itlandsonthecomforterwithasoftthud.“We’llneedthat,though.”
“Goodcall.”Ipushhispantsoverhiships,andtheyslidedownhislegs,poolingathisfeet.Milesbendstogetthemofftherestofthewayandremoveshissocksaswell,whichIappreciatebecausesocksandsexaren’tagreatcombination.
Whilehehopsaroundononefoot,tryingtofreehisleftlegofhispantsandlosehisothersock,Ishuckmypantsandtakeoffmysockstoo.Andthenwe’rebothinourunderwear.Miles’shasateamprintonthem.Minematchthebrathat’sstillonthefloorinthelivingroom.Idon’tknowwhatpossessedmetowearasexybraandunderwearsettoday,butwhenIwokeupthismorning,Ibypassedallmycottoncomfortandwentstraightformygoodstuff.
I’mgratefultothesexgodsforthatdecision.Miles’sgazeskimsovermycurves.“Youaresexytimesamillion,Kitty.”
Ifeelit.Especiallywiththewayhe’slookingatme.
Milesclosesthegapbetweenusanddropshishead,kissingmesoftly.“Wannamakeoutwithmebeforewelosetheunderwear?”
“Yes,please.”
Helaceshisfingerswithmineandguidesmetothebed,thenrushestomovehiswallettothenightstandandpullsthecoversback.Iclimbupontothebedandhefollows.Weliedownnexttoeachother,andIhookalegoverhiship,pullinghimcloser.Andwedoexactlywhathesuggested.Wekissandtouch,anunhurried,gentleexploration.
Ipullhimontopofmeandwrapmylegsaroundhiswaistsowecangrindagainsteachother.Hislipsmovealongmyneckandovermycollarbones.Andthenhestartstogolower.Hestopsatmybreasts,teasingmynippleswithtongueandteeth,beforehegoeslower,pressingakissabovemynavel.
Thefingersofhisfreehandtraildownmysideandovermyhip.Hefollowstheedgeofmypantiesdowntothejunctionofmythigh.Heslipsonefingerunderthefabricskimmingmysexandatthesametimehekissesmyinnerthigh.Isuckinabreathwhenhebrushesoversensitiveskin.
Heliftshishead,eyeshoodedwithlust.“Iwanttoputmymouthonyou,Kitty.”
“Iwouldreally,reallylovethat.”
Onesideofhismouthcurvesupinadevilishsmileasheshiftssohe’skneelingbetweenmythighs,fingershookedintothewaistbandofmypantiesateitherhip.
Iliftmybutt,makingiteasierforhim,andhedragsthemdownmylegs,tossingthemovertheedgeofthebed.
Andthenhesettlesbetweenmythighsanddropshishead,teasingmewithhislipsandtongue.EverytimeImoanorgasporsigh,it’smetwithalamentingmeowontheothersideofthedoor,followedbythehorridsoundofnailsdraggingdownthewoodsurface.
Milesliftshisheadandcallsout.“Dude,youarekillingthemoodhere!”
“Maybeweshouldputonsomemusic?Drownhimout?”Isuggest.
“Goodcall.Myphoneisinmypants.”Mileshopsoffthebedandgrabshispants,shakingthemuntilhisphonedropsontothefloor.Hequicklycuesupaplaylist,turnsthevolumeupashighasitwillgo,andsetsitonthenightstand.
Imeethimattheedgeofthebedandriseonmykneessowe’reeyetoeye,andIcankisshim.Irunmyhanddownhischestandslipmyhanddownthefrontofhisboxers.MilesgroansintomymouthasIwrapmyfingersaroundhislengthandstrokehimafewtimes.Ireachacrossthecomforterandfindhiswallet,whichIfoldhishandaround.
“Iwantyou,”Itellhimbetweenkisses.
“I’mrighttherewithyou.”
Weridhimofhisboxers,andheclimbsbackuponthebedwithme.Hedumpsthecontentsofhiswalletonthecomforterinhissearchforthecondom.Thereareseveralfreecoffeecouponsfromalocalcafé,acoupleofbusinesscards,somecash,andasinglecondom.Ipluckitfromthemessandtearitopen,makesureIhaveittherightwayaround,andthenrollitdownhislength.
Iwrapmyhandaroundthebackofhisneckandpullhimdownontopofme.Hiserectionglidesalongsensitiveskinandnudgesmyentrance.Milesliftshishead,andoureyesmeetashishipssinkdownandItipmineup.Webothexhaleonagroanandsay,“Youfeelsogood,”atthesametime.
Oursmilesmirroreachother.Thenwechuckleandsighasthelaughtermakesallmypartsbelowthewaistclenchandhiserectionkicksinsideofme.Helowershismouthtomine,andIwrapmyarmsandlegsaroundhim.Andthenwestarttomove,findingarhythm,learningeachotherinanewway.
Hisphoneblaresfromthenightstandbesideus,“WeAretheChampions”crooningloudlyasMilesmovesoverme.
“Ohshit,thisismyworkoutplaylist,”hepants.
“It’sverymotivating.”Notexactlyromantic,butthenI’mnotsureitwouldbeeffectiveifthesongswereslowerandquieter.Inthepausebetweensongs,PrinceFranciscanbeheardyowlingontheothersideofthedoor.Butassoonasthenextsongstarts,itdrownshimout.MymoansandwordsofencouragementarealsohelpfulindrowningoutPrinceFrancis’slamenting.
Despitethedistractions,IstillmanagetokeepmostofmyattentiononMiles.It’snotthatdifficult.Hisgorgeousfaceisamaskofdesire,andhekeepswhisperinghotthingsagainstmylips,thathelovesthewayItasteandcan’twaittoputhismouthonmeagain,thathecan’tgetenoughofmymoans,andthathethinksI’mthesexiestwomanonthefaceoftheearth.
Whenwecannolongerkeepourlipsconnected,hepushesupononearmandhiseyeslockonmine.“I’dreallyliketomakeyoucome.”
“Thatwouldbeamazing,butuh,I’veneveractuallyhadanorgasmduringsexbefore,soI’mnotsureit’spossible.”Ifmycheeksweren’talreadyflushedwithexertionanddesire,theywouldbeflushedwithembarrassment.“Nowwasprobablynotthebesttimetoadmitthat.”
Heholdshimselfaboveme.It’simpressivethewayhecankeeprollinghishipswhilehavingyetanothersemi-awkwardconversation,thistimeinthemiddleofsex.“Never?”
Ishakemyhead.I’vebeenclosebefore,butmypreviouspartnersreachedtheendbeforeIcould.
Hemakesasound,sortoflikeahuhandahmm,andthenfoldsbackonhisknees.“Howflexibleareyou?”Hishandsareonmywaistnow,andhe’sstillthrusting,slowernow,though.Onehandmovesbetweenmythighsandhisthumbbrushesovermybingobutton.Ibowupoffthebed,notexpectingthedirectcontactortheintensezingbelowthewaist.
“OhmyGod.Canyoudothatagain?”Igroan.
“Ofcourse.”Andhedoes.
AndagainIbowupoffthebed.
“Fairly.I’mfairlyflexible.Igotoyogawithmysister,butonlywhenshedragsmeandtherearepromisesofagreasybreakfastafterward.”
Hedoesthatthingwithhisthumbagainatthesametimeashethrustsandmyeyesrollup.“I’mgoingtotrysomething.Justletmeknowifit’snotworkingforyou,okay?”
“Okay?”It’saquestionmorethananything,butI’mhalfwaytoanorgasmatthispoint,andifhecanmaketheimpossiblehappen,Imightjustwanttokeephimforever.Thatpartstaysinmyheadthankfully.
Heunhooksmyfeetfromaroundhiswaistandliftsmylegssomyheelsarerestingonhisshoulders.Herisessohe’sonhisknees,thengripsmythighsandstartstoliftandlowerme,notalot,butit’senoughthathehitsthatspotinsidewitheverycarefulshift.
Andthenhedropsbackdownandleansforward.Mykneeshitmychest,andthereisliterallynothingIcandotohelpnow,sinceI’mbasicallyfoldedinhalfunderhim.
“Isthisokay?”heasks.
“Itfeelsbetterthanokay,”Itellhim.“Waybetter,like,onascaleofnotgoodtounbelievableit’sanunbelievabletimesatleastten,maybemore.”
Thecornerofhismouthcurvesupinadelicioussmirk.“Good.It’ssupposedto.”Hestartstomoveagain,andIdon’tknowwhatitisaboutthisposition,butitabsolutelydoesthetrick.OnesecondI’mmoaningabouthowgooditfeelsandhowhe’shittingthespotandthenI’mgrippinghisforearmsandscreaminghisnameasanorgasmrollsthroughme.Andnotjustanykindoforgasm,butonethatstealsmyvisionandmakestheworldturnblackandwhiteandstarrybeforecolorreturnsinavibrantburst.
He’swearingthesexiestvictorygrinasheunpretzelsmeandfoldsbackonhisknees,liftingmerightalongwithhimsoI’msittingonhisthighs.Igriphisshouldersashebouncesmeinhislap.It’sallIcandosinceI’morgasmbonelessandincapableofhelpinghim.Hisexpressionisfierceandabeadofsweatrunsdownhistemple.
“Sofuckinggood,”hegroans,pullingmedownonelasttimeashiseyesfallclosedandhisjawclenches.Heshuddersandhishipsjerkandthenhefallsbackwardonthemattress,takingmewithhim.
Weliethereforaminute,pantingandsated.“TheEyeoftheTiger”blastsfromhisphoneonthenightstand.ItendsandPrinceFrancis’smeowsfillthesilenceuntilthenextsongstarts.
“ShouldIopenthedoornow?”Mycheekisstillrestingonhischest,andhisheartisbeatinghardandheavy.
Hisfingerstrailupanddownmyspine.“Ithinkwehavetoifwewanthimtostop,butI’mnotinclinedtomove.”
“Meeither,”Iadmit.“Butyou’rerightabouthimbeingamoodkillerandthisnotbeingthebestsexplaylist.”Iliftmyheadandpropmychinonhischest.Icanseehisnippleoutofthecornerofmyeye.Miles’schinisafewinchesaway,andInoteasmallscar.Ireachupanddragmyfingeralongthepaleline.“Hockeyaccident?”
Hesmiles.“Nope.IfellintothecoffeetablewhenIwasthree.Itrippedoveroneofmyowntoys.NeverleftmycraponthefloorafterthatsinceIneededsevenstitches.”
“Doyouremembergettingthem?”
“Vaguely.Irememberhowmuchitbledmore.”
“Thatmakessense.”
PrinceFrancisdragshisnailsacrossthedoorandstartsupwiththeyowlingagain.ThesongblastingfromMiles’sphoneseemslikeitmightbeappropriateforcooldown.
Ipushupoffhischest.“Ineedthenoisetostop.Givemeasecond.”
Milestriestokeepmefromrollingoffhim,butheseemsjustasbonelessasme.Myfeethitthefloor,andIsmilewhenhewhistlesandsays,“Youareeffortlesslysexy,Kitty.”
Ithrowopenthebedroomdoor.PrinceFrancishasonepawraisedintheair,mouthwideopenasifhe’sabouttoyowl.Hebringshispawtohismouthandlicksbetweenhistoes.“CanIhelpyou?”Iask.
Hemakesanoiselikeaharrumphandthentrotsoffdownthehall,tailflickingirritably.WhenIturnaround,Inoticethatthemusichasstopped.
Ileavethedoorajarandconsiderbeeliningitacrosstheroomandjumpingrightbackintobed,butMilesturnsaroundandnowwe’refacingeachother.Stillnaked.Idon’tknowwhattodowithmyhands,ortherestofme.
Luckily,Milesseemstoknowhowtomanagehimselfwhenhe’sbucknakedaftersex.Hecrossestheroomandwrapshisarmaroundmywaist,pullingmeagainsthim.Itipmyheadupandhebendsuntilourlipsconnect.It’sabriefkiss,soft,gentle.
“Hey.”Hebrushestheendofhisnoseagainstmine.
“Hey.”
“Wannacuddlenowthatallthenoisehasstopped?”Heinclineshisheadtothebed.
“Sure.Okay.Yes.”
Hekeepshisarmaroundme,andwestutter-stepourwaybacktothebed,Milesdroppingkissesalongmyshoulderandupthesideofmyneckaswego.Whenwereachthebed,hedivesontoitandstretchesoutanarm,pattingthepillowbesidehim.Ilienexttohim,andhepullsthecoversoverus,thenturnsonhisside,andIdothesame.Herunsahanddownmysideandshimmiescloser,pullingmylegoverhiship.
“That’sbetter,”hemurmurs.Hishanddisappearsfrommyhipandthenstrokesgentlyfrommytempletomychinwhilegrinning.
“What’sthisabout?”Ipokethedimpleinhischeek.
“Igaveyouanorgasm.”
Iblush.“Youdid.AndIwasveryloudaboutlettingyouknowhowmuchIappreciatedit.”
Hisgrinwidens.“Iappreciateyourappreciation.”
“You’reprettyproudofyourself,aren’tyou?”
Heliftsashoulderandholdshisfingersaninchapart.“Maybealittle.”
Isplayhishandoutandpressmypalmtohis.“Oralot.”Ilacemyfingerswithhis.“Thatwasmyfirsteversex-gasm.It’sworthbeingproudof.Hopefullyitwasn’taone-timething.Imean…unlessthiswasjustatonightthing.Idon’thaveexpectations.”ButevenasIsayit,I’mnotsureit’sentirelytrue.We’resupposedtogoonadate,andnowI’vealreadymesseditupbyhavingsexwithhimbeforewe’vehadacivilizeddinnertogether.Andhewasvulnerabletonightandemotional.“OhmyGod!”Islapapalmovermymouth.
Miles’sbrowpullstogetherinafurrow.“What’swrong?”
“Ijusttookadvantageofyou.”
“What?”
Isitupandunintentionallyflashhimmyboobs,thenpullmykneesuptomychinalongwiththecovers.“Youwerevulnerableandemotionalaftertoday,whichtotallymakessenseconsideringeverythingthat’sgoingon,andinsteadofjustbeingthereforyou,Itookadvantageofthesituationandyou.”Iflailahandinhisdirectionandalmostlosemyholdonthecovers.“It’sbadenoughthatIinvitedyoutothebarasashieldforthealienstudiesweirdoandthenattackedyouwithmylips.NowI’veattackedyouwithmyvaginatoo!”Thisisjustsomortifying.
“Ialreadyaskedyouonadate,Kitty.Andyouweren’ttakingadvantageofme.Itoldyoubefore,youcanattackmewithyourlipswheneveryouwant.AndI’mtheonewhoturnedyouintoahumanpretzelandthentriedtopoundaholethroughthemattress.Therewasnotakingadvantageofanyone.”
“How’dyougetsogoodatthepretzelmove?”Icovermyeyeswithmypalmagain.“I’msorry.Youdon’tneedtoanswerthat.IthinkmaybeIlostafewbraincellswiththatorgasm.Everythingwentblackandwhiteandstarryforasecond.MaybeIlostconsciousness?Whycan’tIstoptalking?”
“Hey.”Miles’shandcoversmine,andhegentlypullsitawayfrommyface.
Myeyesarestillclosed,though.
Hetucksafingerundermychin.“Kitty.”
Hislipstouchmine.Brief.Soft.
“Canyouopenyoureyesforme?”
Icrackonelid.
He’sclose,closeenoughthatIcanfeelhisbreathagainstmylips.“Iloveitwhenyourthoughtscomeoutofyourheadunfiltered.AndIreadaboutthepretzelmoveinamagazinebackwhenIwasincollege.Itwasarealgamechanger.I’mtotallyhappytotryitagainandmakesureitworksmorethanonce.”
“Doesthatmeanyou’restayingheretonight?”
“I’dliketo,ifyou’dlikemeto.”
“Iwouldlikethat.AndIwouldlovetoseeifthepretzelmoveworksmorethanonce.”
Milesgrins.“That’snotmyonlymove.”
“Youhavemore?”
“Ido.”Hissmileturnssalacious.“Youwantmetoshowyouanotherone?”chapternineteenONEPAWATATIMEKitty
ItturnsoutMileshasalotofmoves.Andwetryoutseveralofthem.Italsomeanswestayupridiculouslylate.
Needlesstosay,thismorningI’mnotparticularlyrested,butIamdefinitelyfeelinggood.Betterthangood.I’moncloudnine,skippingdownpost-orgasmhighroad.MilesandIgooutforbreakfasttomyfavoritegreasyspoon.Hegetsagiantstackofpancakes,andIordertheeggsbenny.
“There’snowayyou’regoingtobeabletoeatallofthat.”Ipointtothemountainouspileofpancakes.They’relayeredlikeacake,withstrawberriesandwhippedcreambetweeneachone
“Yougavemequitetheworkoutlastnight,andthismorning,Kitty,you’dbesurprisedathowmuchdamageIcando.”HewinksandIblush.
“Doyouwantsomehelppackingupyourmom’splace?Doyouhaveaplanforwhatyou’regoingtodowiththehouse?”Ipopabiteofeggsbennyintomymouth.I’mtryingnottoshovelitinmyfaceatwarpspeed,butnowthatIhavefoodinfrontofme,ItoorealizehowfamishedIam.Insteadofeatingdinnerlastnight,wedevouredeachother.
“Imightneedtoputitonthemarket,unlessIcanfindalong-termrenter.There’snomortgageleftonit,thankfully,butmymom’spensionfromherjobisn’tgoingtocoverthefullcostofhercarebecauseshetookearlyretirement.Sellingthehousewouldhelp,butobviouslyitwouldbebettertorentitsowecankeepthecapitalwhereitisuntilsheabsolutelyneedsit.”
“Itwouldbeagoodhomeforafamilywithsmallchildren,oraretiredcouple,”Imuse.
Milesnods.“Partofmejustwantstogetridofitbecauseofallthememoriesthatweretiedupinthathouse,butnow…Idon’tknow.I’mstartingtoseeitabitdifferently.”Hisgrinturnssly.“AndrecentlyI’vemadesomeprettygoodnewmemoriesinthere.”
Ismileandduckmyhead.“I’mgladthere’ssomegoodinallofthisforyou.”
“Metoo.”
Wefinishbreakfastandheadbacktothehouse.IpackupPrinceFrancisandallhisbelongingsandweloadthemintomycar.It’sbetterforhimifwe’renottryingtopackthehousewhilehe’sstillinit.Ihaven’ttalkedtomymomyetaboutkeepinghim,butIfigureIcanspinitasatemporarythingandthenaskforgivenesslaterifitbecomespermanent.
Mileshasafternoonmeetings,andthere’sagametonight,sohewalksmeouttomycarandkissesmegoodbye.“I’lltextyoulater.”Hedipsdownandkissesmeagain.
Irunmyhandsoverhischest.“Okay.Soundsgood.”
“Iftherewasn’tagametonight,I’dcomebackhere,”hesays.
“That’sokay.Iknowit’snotpracticalforyoutodriveouthereallthetime.”
“Youcouldcometomyplace,though.Thegameshouldbedonebynine.Icanbehomebyninethirty.”Hisfacelightsup,likeit’sthebestideahe’severhad.
Hiseagernesstospendmoretimewithmeisgreatformyego.Ipathischest.“IwishIcould,butIshouldgetPrinceFrancissettledatmyplace.Droppinghimoffandleavinghimisn’tgoingtowinmeanyprizeswithhimormyfamily.I’llcomeoverheretomorrownight,though,andwecanpackupallthethingsyourmomwillneedatthenewhome.Wecanevengothereearlyanddecorateforher,soitfeelslikeherspacewhenshearrives.Bringsomefamiliarfurnitureandthethingssheloves.”
Hesmilesdownatme.“That’sagreatidea.You’reamazing,youknowthat?”
“Soareyou.”PrinceFrancisyowlsfrominsidemycar.“Ishouldgobeforehegetsangryandragepoopsonmyseat.”
“Probablysmart.”Mileskissesmeonelasttime,thencarefullyopensthecardoor,butonlyenoughthatIcanslipinside,andPrinceFrancisdoesn’thavetimetomakeabreakforit.AssoonasI’mbehindthewheel,PrinceFrancishopsuponthebackoftheseatandstandsonmyshoulders,histailwhippingmeinthecheekashescratchesatthewindowandmeowsatMiles.
Ibuckleinandturntheengineover,thengivehimachinscratch.“We’regoingtohaveasleepoveratmyplacetonight.”
Ibackoutofthedriveway,wavingonelasttimeatMilesbeforeIheadhomewithPrinceFrancisdrapedovermyshoulders.I’minanamazingmoodwhenIpullintothedriveway.Bothmymom’sandmysister’scarsarehere.
Idon’ttrytoputPrinceFrancisinhiscage,optingforafootballcarry.Hislittlelegsflail,likehe’sairrunning.“Justafewsecondsandyou’llbeabletoexplore,Ipromise.”Iopenthefrontdoor—it’sunlocked—andcalloutasIcloseitbehindme.“Mom!Hattie!Ihaveasurprisevisitor!”
Mysistercomesboundingdownthestairs.“Didyoubringyourboyfriendhomewithyou?”sheshouts,skiddingdownthelastfewsteps.Shegrabsthenewelpostandmanagestoavoidfallingonherbutt.
“Kittyhasaboyfriend?”Momappearsinthefoyer.
IgiveHattieanunimpressedlook.“ThatwouldhavemadethingsreallyawkwardifIwasn’talone.”
“Notmoreawkwardthanthetwoofyoumakingoutinthemiddleofthebarforhalfanhour.”
“Itwasn’tthatlong.”AtleastIdon’tthinkitwas.Itdidn’tfeelthatlong.Maybeaminuteortwo.
“What’sthisaboutaboyfriend?”Mymom’sfacelightsuplikefireworksontheMaylongweekend.
“Kittyhasaboyfriend.Imethimlastweekwhenheshowedupatthepub.HisnameisMiles,”Hattietellsmymom,thenturnsbacktome.“Brycewashelladisappointed,FYI.Hethinksyou’reintergalacticallyhot.”Shemakesairquotesaroundintergalacticallyhot
“I’mnevergoingtoforgiveyouforseatingmebesidehim.HethinksE.T.isreal.”
“Howdoyouknowheisn’t?”Hattiequirksabrow.
“Ifaliensexist,they’llbewaymoreaerodynamicthanE.T.Hislegsarethreeincheslong.Andwhytheheckdoeshisfingerlightup?It’slikehe’sadistantrelativeofRudolph.”
“Whatishappeningrightnow?WhyareyoutalkingaboutE.T.?AndwhoareBryceandMiles?”Mominterrupts.
“IwentoutwithHattielastweek.IendedupsittingbesideanalienstudiesmajornamedBryce,andthenMilesshowedup.He’smyfriend,though,notmyboyfriend.”WhoI’vesleptwith.Sofriendprobablyisn’ttherighttermeither,butwehaven’tputalabelonit.Upuntillastnightweweretwopeoplewhohadkissedandwereplanningtogoonadate.Nowwe’veupgradedtobeingnakedtogether,andmyprivatepartshavehuggedhisprivateparts.
“He’sdefinitelymorethanafriend,consideringthewayyoutwowereplayingduelingtongues.”Hattiesmirksatme.
“Duelingtongues?”Momasks.
IgiveHattieanotherlook,andshearchesonebrowandthentheotherbeforetheybothdropdown,likeanelevatorsuddenlylosingafloor.Andthentheyjumpupagain.
Ilookaway,feelingvery,veryexposed.“She’sexaggerating.Andhe’stakingmeonadatenextweek.Orweekend.I’mnotsure.I’vebeensittingforhismother’scat.Whichbringsmebacktoournewhouseguest.”IlookaroundforPrinceFrancis,buthe’sdisappeared.“Shoot.Idon’tknowwherehewent.”
“Wherewhowent?Notthealien?”
“NoMom,therearenoaliens.”
“Youdon’tknowthatforsure,”Hattiereplies.
“Imeaninthehouse.Ididn’tbringonehomewithme.IbroughtPrinceFrancis.”
“Ithoughtyourboyfriend’snamewasMiles.OrwasthatBryce?Idon’tthinkit’sagreatideatodatethreedifferentpeopleatthesametime.Itsendsthewrongmessage,evenifoneofthemisroyalty.Especiallyifoneofthemisroyalty.”Momcrossesherarms.
“PrinceFrancisisacat,notanactualprince.Holdon.Ineedtofindhim.”Iwhistleandreachintomypocket,butIdon’thavethebaggieoftreatsInormallycarrywithme.Irushbackouttothecartograbhislitterboxandmysupplyoftreats,shakingthecontainerandcallingPrinceFrancis’sname.Afewmomentslaterhecomestrottingoutofthekitchen.
“Ohmycuteness!”Hattiedropstothefloor,crossesherlegs,andpatsherkneesenthusiastically.“Givemethetreats.Iwanthimtoloveme.Howlongishestaying?Pleasesayforever.”Sheholdsahandoutpalmup,andIsetthecontainerinit.Shenearlydropsit,butrecoversbeforeithitsthefloor.Sheplacesatreatonherknee,waitingforPrinceFrancistosniffheroutandtakethebait.“Helookslikealittlepinkgremlin.OroneoftheadorablehouseelvesfromHarryPotter.”
Mymomhasyettosayanything,andIworrythatbringingPrinceFrancishomewithoutclearingitwithherfirstmighthavebeenabadidea.ButwhenIlookoverather,she’ssmiling,herattentiononHattieandPrinceFrancis,whohasveryquicklysurmisedthatthishigh-pitchedandveryexcitedhumanhasfoodandiswillingtogivehimlotsofit.
IexplainthatMiles’smotherhasdementia,he’smovingherintoahomethisweekend,andwedidn’twanttostressPrinceFrancisoutwithallthepacking.
“Oh,thatmustbesodifficult.Doeshehavesiblings?Howishisfatherhandlingthis?”
“Uh,hisdadlivesinBC,hisparentsdivorcedwhenhewasateen.Theylosthisbrotherwhenhewasonlyeight.”
“Ohmygoodness.That’ssosad.”Mom’sfingersfluttertoherlips.
“Itis.Thatfamilyhasbeenthroughalot.”
“It’ssogoodthatyou’vefoundeachotherthen,isn’tit?Youbothknowwhatit’sliketolosepeopleyoulovedearly.”Shesmilessoftly,andhereyesmistover.
“Itreallyis.He’sagreatguy.”Andheseemstohavecomeintomylifeatexactlytherighttime.
“You’llhavetoinvitehimoverfordinnersoIcanmeethim.”
“Yeah.Definitely.”Inodvigorously,butit’sonethingformetotellhimthatthere’sstillaplacesetformydadatthedinnertableeverynight,andanothertowitnessit.I’mstartingtoseehownarrowI’vemademyworld,andhowIdon’twanttobethereasonnoneofusareabletomoveforward.BringingPrinceFrancishome,evenifit’sonlytemporary,seemslikeasmallbutgoodstepintherightdirection
PrinceFrancisclimbsintoHattie’slapandtriestohugthepackageoftreats.Shepickshimupandcradleshimlikeababy—itseemstobeeveryone’sgo-tomovewithhim.“Heneedsasweatertokeephimwarminthecoldermonths.Oh!Canwegoshoppingforclothesforhim?Unlesshealreadyhassweaters.”
“Ifoundacoupleofshirts,butitdoesn’thurttohavemore.”
“Youcanneverhavetoomanyshirts.Wedon’twantournakedkittytobechilly,dowe?”Hattierubshisbelly,andhesnugglesintoherarms.“He’sjustsoweirdlyadorable.”
“Heis,isn’the?Andhe’sfullofpersonality.We’llhavetokeepaneyeonyourknickknacksthough,Mom.Whenhe’sfeelingneglected,helikestotellusbyknockingthingsonthefloor.”
Mom’sgrinwidens.“JustlikeSmokeyusedtodo.Ithinkit’sgoingtobewonderfulhavingacatinthehouseagain.It’sbeentoolong.Doesheliketuna?LetmeseeifIhaveanycansinthecupboard.”
AssoonasMomisoutofearshotHattietossesatreatatmeandhitsmeintheknee.PrinceFrancisjumpsoutofherlapandrushesovertogobbleitup.Hattiemakessomekindofmimecirclemotionaroundherface.“Whatthehellisgoingon?”
“Whatdoyoumean?”Itrytomaintaineyecontact,butit’sasifmyeyeballshaveturnedintopendulumsandtheydartbackandforth.
“You’reallshifty-eyedandyourfacehasgoneblotchy.DidyoustayatPrinceFrancis’shouselastnight?”
“YouknowI’vebeenwatchinghimbecausehe’shavingahardtimeadjustingtobeingalone.”Iscoophimup,usinghimasanadorablekittyshield.
Hattiehopstoherfeetandgazelleleapsacrosstheroom.BeforeIcanreact,sheshoveshernoseinmyhair.
“Whatareyoudoing?”Ipushheraway.
“Yousmelllikemen’scologne!”
“Shh!”Ipokeherintheshoulder.“Canyoukeepitdown,please?Idon’tthinktheneighborsdownthestreetheardyou.”
Shegrabsmebytheshoulders,andPrinceFrancishopsoutofmyarms,abandoningmeinmytimeofneed.
“Lookatme,Kitty,”Hattieorders
Iforcemyeyestomeethers,butagaintheydartawayasplitsecondlater
“OhmyGod.”
Ipursemylips.
“OhmyGod.DidyouandMilesbone?”
Imakeaface.“Really,Hattie?”
“Didyoulethimpoundyour—”Shemotionstohercrotch.
“Whydoyouhavetobesocrass?”
“OhmyGod,youtotallydid!Wearegoingshoppingthisafternoonforcatsweatersandyouaregoingtotellmeallaboutit.Wasitgood?Ibetitwas.Youtwohavecrazychemistry.Youlookedlikeyouwantedtoclimbhimlikeatreeatthepub,andhegotsoterritorialoveryouwiththearmaroundyourshoulderandtheglaringatBryce.Thisissoexciting.”
“What’ssoexciting?”Momreturnswithacanoftunaandadish.
“Hattie’shappyabouthavingacatagain.Evenifit’stemporary,”Ipracticallyshout.
“Oh,wellyes,Icantotallyunderstandthat.”MomsmileswhenPrinceFrancistrotsoverandwindshimselfaroundherlegs,meows,andflopsoveronhisside,showingherhisbelly.“Whataflirtyouare.”Shecrouchesandgiveshimachinrubbeforeshesetsasmalldessertcupinfrontofhimcontainingflakedtuna.
Thethreeofuswatchashegobblesitup.Ibringtherestofhisgearintothehouseandsethislitterboxupinthebasement.ThecatdoorfromwhenwehadSmokeystillworks,soIshowPrinceFrancishowtouseitandlethimsniffaround,checkingouthisnewsurroundingsroombyroom.
EventuallyItakehimupstairstomybedroom,whereheexploresforafewsecondsbeforetrottingoffdownthehall.Hattiestepsintomyroom,wearingaridiculousgrin.
“Whyareyousoexcitedaboutthis?”Icanfeelmyfaceflushing.Iwishmyembarrassmentcouldstayinmyheadandnotbesoobvious.
“Youhaveaboyfriend,andbasedonhowmuchyou’reblushing,he’snotadisappointmentinthesack,andnowwehaveacattotakecareof!Thisislikeadaymadeofawesome!Let’sgoshoppingforcatsweaters.”
IgrabmypurseandHattiegrabshers,andweheaddownstairs.MomissittinginthelivingroomwithPrinceFranciscurledupinherlap,lookinglikeshewonthelottery.
“WhatdoesMilesdoforalivingagain?Doeshehavehisownplace?”Hattieasksaswedrivetowardthestripmallontheothersideoftown.
“He’sadataanalystfortheNHL,andyes,hehashisownplace.Helivesinanapartmentinthecity,whichisgood,becauseIobviouslycan’tbringhimhomeforthenightunlessIwantittobeallkindsofawkwardinthemorning.”ThethoughtofhavingMilesstaythenightinmybedroom,whichhasn’tchangedmuchsincehighschool,ismortifying.“Ineedtoredecoratemyroom.”
“Oryoucouldmoveout?Getanapartment?Unlessthecatcarebusinessisn’tcuttingitforyoumoneywise?”Hattieasks.
“It’snotthat.Imean,obviouslyI’mnotgoingtogetrichtakingcareofotherpeople’spets,butitpaysthebills.PlusIhaveafewsponsorsnow,sothatkeepscostsdownandraisesmybottomline.AndIhavesomemoneysaved.”Agoodchunkactually.
“Youjustdon’twanttospendthemoneyonrent?”Hattiepresses.“That’swhyIwenttocollegeclosetohomeinsteadoflivinginthecity.Iwanttoavoiddebtasmuchaspossible.”
“Livingathomemightnotbeaparty,butit’sfinanciallyresponsible.”Ididthesamething.
“Exactly.”Hattiegivesmeasmall,uncertainsmile.“AndIknowthatyou’vestuckaroundtohelpMomwiththefinances,butthehouseispaidfor,andmycollegeispaidfor.Youdon’thavetokeepputtingyourlifeonholdtomakesureeveryoneelseisokayindefinitely,Kitty.”
Ourparentsputmoneyasideforoureducation.Notquiteenoughtocovertuitionfully,especiallyafterDaddied,butwithpart-timejobs,grants,andscholarships,bothHattieandIwereabletowalkoutofcollegemostlydebt-free,whichishuge.AndoneofthereasonsIstayedinthehouse,evenafterIgraduated.Mymomdidn’twantustowalkoutofschoolandintolifewithloanshangingoverourheads.
Itmeansthateverythingthathasn’tgoneintomybusinessstart-uphasgoneinthebank.Ihaveadecentamountofmoneysetaside.Itwouldbetight,butIcouldprobablycarryamortgageonmyown.Myownplacewouldmeanbeingabletoexpandmybusiness.“Ijust…Iknowtheinternshipyouhavenextsemesterisinthecity.AndI’msureitwillturnintoajoboffer.”
“Whatdoesthathavetodowithyourownplans?”
“Idon’twanttoleaveMomonherown.”
HattiepullsintothestripmallparkinglotandfindsaspotnearthePetEmporium.Theyselleverythingfromfoodtolitter,andtheyalsohaveanadorableboutiqueshopwithspecialtytreatsandpetapparel.Sheshiftsthecarintoparkandlooksatme,stillgrippingthesteeringwheel.“CanIsaysomething?”
“IhaveafeelingIalreadyknowwhatyouwanttosay.”Iclutchmypurse,whichhappenstohaveacatfaceonit.
“Wantmetosayitanyway?”
“Sure.”
“IsitreallyaboutnotwantingtoleaveMomonherown,oraboutyoubeingafraidtoleave?”
“Probablyabitofboth,withastrongerleantowardbeingafraid.”Isigh.“I’vebeenthinkingaboutthisalotlately.EversinceIstartedsittingforPrinceFrancis.IlookatMiles’smom’shouseandseeparallelswithours.Hisbrotherhasbeengoneforalmosttwodecades,andhisroomhasneverchanged.It’sthesameasitwaswhenhedied.Justlikeourhouseisthesame.Andforawhileitfeltcomfortable,likeifnothingchanged,thenmaybeitwouldbeeasiertostayclosetoDad,eventhoughhe’sgone.Butnow…Idon’tknow.Insteadofpreservinghismemory,I’mstuckinthepastandtooafraidofthefuturetoliveinthepresent.”
Hattiereachesoverandsqueezesmyhand.“Well,IthinkbringingPrinceFrancishomewasasmall,cutestepintherightdirection.It’salittlechange,butit’sstillachange,Kitty.”
“Doyouthinkbymynotmovingoutormovingforwardwithmylife,I’vemadeitimpossibleforMomtomoveonwithhers,too?”Iask.
She’squietforawhile.“No.Youcanonlymakeyourownchoices,nototherpeople’s.Ifanything,it’ssymbiotic,andnoone’sfault.ButIdothinkthatyou’veputyourselfonholdforthesakeofourfamily.YouandMomhaveabitofacodependencythinggoingon.Andwhenyou’recomfortablewiththewaythingsare,it’shardtoseehowchangecanbegood.I’mnotsayingyouneedtoupandwalkaway,butmaybeit’stimeforyoutofocusonyourlife,soyoucanbothstandonyourownalittlemore.”
“I’vecreatedthisbubbleofsafety,andnowI’mstartingtofeeltrappedinsideit.”
“Maybeit’stimetopopit,then.”Hattiegivesmyhandasqueeze.“You’reanamazing,selflessoldersister,Kitty.You’vebeenMom’shelpersinceyouwereakid.Andwe’reallusedtoyoubeingthat.It’sokayifyouwanttotryonsomenewhatsandseewhichonesfitbetter.”chaptertwentyRIGHTMEOWKitty
DespitemetellingMilesIcanmeethimathismother’splaceinthemorning,heinsistsonpickingmeup.Buthegivesmeawindowoftime,betweenseven-forty-twoandseven-fifty-five.Whichisoddlyspecific.
Despitethis,whenthedoorbellsrings,I’mstillstrugglingmywayintomyshirt—it’sanewonethatHattiepickedoutformeyesterdayonourshoppingexpedition—asIrushdownthehalltothestairs.
“That’sforme!Icangetit!”Ishout.ButI’mstuckinmyshirt,myheadapparentlyinasleeveandmyarmthroughtheneckhole.Islamintothewallandfallonmybuttwithanoomph.
“I’vegotit!”Momcallsfromthemainfloor.
Myvoiceismuffledbymyshirt,andI’mstilltryingtofigureouthowtorightthiswrongwhenIhearmymother’shigh-pitchedgreetingandMiles’sdeepvoicefilterupthestairs.Ifinallygetmyheadoutofthesleeveandmyarmoutoftheneckhole,replacingonewiththeother.Ismoothoutmyshirtandhoptomyfeet.
ButIdon’ttakeintoaccountwhereI’veendedup,whichisatthetopofthestairs.Italsohappenstobedirectlyinlinewiththefrontdoor.AndthatmeansMileshashadaclearviewofmestrugglingwithmyshirt.I’mabouttotakeastepdown,butPrinceFrancisappearsbetweenmylegs,settingmeoffbalanceonceagain.Hemeowsandlauncheshimselfdownthesteps.Myheelhitsthelipofthetopstair.They’repolishedhardwoodandI’mwearingslipperysocks,whichmeansmyheelslipsoutfromundermeandIdon’thavetimetograbtherailingbeforeIlandonmyassandslide-bumpmywaydowntheentireflight.Ilandonthefloorinaheap.
“Ohmygosh,areyouokay?”Milesrushesovertohelpme.
“She’sjustexcitedtoseeyou!”mymomoffers.
“I’mfine,”Imutter,acceptingMiles’sextendedhand.“Onlymydignityisbruised.Andmaybemybutt.”
“Icancheckthatlaterforyou,”Mileswhispersinmyear.
Iblinkafewtimes,notsureifIheardthatcorrectly.WhenImeethisgaze,IcantellthatIdid,becausehischeeksareturningpink.
“Whydon’tyoucomein,Miles?It’ssolovelytofinallymeetyou.Kitty’stoldusallaboutyou,butshedidn’tmentionhowhandsomeyouare.”
Iwanttotellmymomtotoneitdown,butIcan’tdothatwithoutembarrassingher.AndIthinkthatmyembarrassmentplusMiles’sembarrassmentisenoughtofillthisentireroom.
Andthenmysisterappearsatthetopofthestairs.“What’salltheracketabout?”She’swearingapairofsleepshortsandaT-shirtwithasmilingdonutonit.Herhairispulledupinamessybun,andshehassleeplinesonherface.Evenhalfasleep,wearingjammies,mysisterisrunwayready.
“Kitty’sboyfriendishere!”Momshoutsjoyously.
Andtheembarrassmentkeepspilingon.
Idon’tevenlookatMiles,notwantingtoseehisexpressionrightnow.
Hattie’seyesgowide,andshemakesheroh-shitface,ashereyesdartfrommetoMilesandbacktoMom.Shemustrealizethatshe’snotdressedappropriatelyandshoutsthatshe’llberightback.I’mhopingwe’llbegonebeforethathappens,soIcanlimittheamountoffootinmouthMilesisexposedtowheremymotherisconcerned.
“Weshouldprobablygo.MilesandIaregoingtosetuphismother’snewapartmenttodaysoit’sreadywhenshemovesin.”Itrytogettothedoor,butmymotherisstandingdirectlyinfrontofit.
“Youcouldstayforcoffee.Youhaven’tevenhadbreakfastyet.Icouldmakeyousomething.Maybesomescrambledeggs?Thatwouldbenice,wouldn’tit?AndmaybeMileswantsatourofthehouseandtoseehowPrinceFrancisissettlingin.”Shelookssoexcitedabouttheprospect.AndasmuchasIwanttoavoidanyfurtherembarrassment,Idon’twanttowipethesmileoffmymother’sface.It’sarealconundrum.
“Scrambledeggswouldbegreat,thankssomuch,Ms.Hart.”
“Oh,youcanjustcallmeLucile,andit’smypleasure.It’sjustsonicetomeetyou.”ShebeamsupatMiles.“I’llgetstartedontheeggs,andKittycanshowyouaround.”
Sheleavesusinthefrontfoyer.
“I’msosorry,”Imumble.
“Don’tbe.”Hewinks.“Whydon’tyougivemethattour?”
Ipointtothestairs.“That’swhereallthebedroomsare.”
Hearchesabrow.“You’renotgoingtoshowmeyours?”
“Doyouwanttoseeit?”Ihaven’tevenmademybed.
“Yes.”
Ihaven’thadaguyinmybedroomsincehighschool.AnyoneI’vedatedoverthepastfewyears,howeverbrief,hashadhisownplace,sowe’dalwaysgothere.Andmaybethat’saproblem,becauseit’smadeiteasyformetostaywhereIam.Ihaven’thadalong-termanythingsincecollege.
Ileadtheway,mystomachfillingwithbutterfliesandmymouthgrowingdrierwitheverystep.MaybebecauseoftheconversationHattieandIhadlastnight.MaybebecausethelasttimeIwasinabedroomwithMilesIwasnaked.Orbecausemymothercalledhimmyboyfriendandmybedroomwillcontainjustthetwoofus,wherehecouldpotentiallysaysomethingaboutthat.
“That’smymother’sroom,andthelinencloset,andthat’smysister’sroom.”Hattie’sdoorhasachalkboardsignonitwithherdailyscheduleanda“studyinginprogress/sleepinginprogress”doorhanger.“That’sthebathroomweshare,andthisismyroom.”Ipushopenthedoorandstepinside
Idon’thaveachancetoapologizeforthemess,ortheverycat-tasticdecor,becauseMilesclosesthedoorbehindhimandflipsthelock.Heclosesthegapbetweenusandtakesmyfacebetweenhispalms.Hetipsmyheadbackandcoversmymouthwithhis.
Iletoutashockedgasp,andhestrokeshistongueinsideonalowgroan.Onehandleavesmyfaceandwrapsaroundmywaist,pullingmetohim.Ifeelhim,hardandinsistentagainstmystomach,ashedeepensthekiss.
We’reinterruptedbyalowmeow.
Milesbreaksthekissforhalfasecond,thendecideshedoesn’tcareandfusesourmouthsagain.
Somethingcrashestothefloorbymydresser.
Thistimewhenhebreaksthekiss,hedoesn’tcomebackforanotherone.
WebothturntowardthedresserwherePrinceFrancissits,glaringinannoyance.Myalarmclockisonthefloor.Histailbatsbackandforthafewtimesandheknocksovermyjewelrytree,whichscaresthecrapoutofhimandsendshimskitteringunderthebed.
“Whyishesuchacockblocker?”Milesgrumbles.
“Hedoesn’tliketoshare.”
“Thatmakestwoofus.”Hebrusheshislipsovermine.“Ilikeyourbedroom.”
“It’samess,andyouhaven’tevenlookedatit.”
“Itsmellslikeyou,andthattriggersallkindsofpositivememoryassociationsforme.”Hesucksmybottomlipbetweenhis,thenreleasesit.
“I’msorrymymomcalledyoumyboyfriend.Hattieusedthewordyesterday,andIknowwehaven’thadanykindofdiscussionaboutit.ButIdon’twantyoutothinkthatjustbecauseI’vehuggedyourpeniswithmyvaginathatIautomaticallyassumeyouwanttobemyboyfriend.Itriedtosaywewereseeingeachother,butmymomreallylatchedontothetermboyfriend,apparently.”
Milesgrins.“Idon’tmind.”
“I’lltrytoreiteratethewholebeinginthe‘seeingeachother’phaseagainwhenyou’renothere,butIcouldn’tcallheroutonitinfrontofyou.Nooneneededtobemoreembarrassedthanwealreadywere.Andtherewasthewholefallingdownthestairspiece.”IreallywishIcouldstopdrawingmoreattentiontotheembarrassingepisodes.
“Doyouwantmetocheckforbruises?”Hedragshistonguealonghisbottomlip,andhiseyesdarken.
Iswallowthickly,thinkingaboutthepantiesI’mcurrentlywearing.“Maybelater.”
“Probablyagoodidea.ThenIcandoaverythoroughexamination.”
“Thatwouldbegreat.”Ibitemybottomlip.
“WeshouldprobablyleaveyourroombeforeItrytogetyououtofyourclothesandruinyourmother’sgoodimpressionofme.”
“That’sprobablyasmartidea.Shereallyseemstolikeyou.”
“Andwedefinitelywanttokeepitthatway.”Hedipsdowntokissmeonelasttime,thenrearrangeshimselfinhispantsbeforeheunlocksthedoor.Hestopsabruptly,whichmeansIbumpintohisback,andhehastogripthedoorjambsohedoesn’tstumbleforward.
“Ohhi,Hattie.”Miles’svoiceisslightlypitchyasheliftshishandinawave,thenturnssidewaysandmotionsformetogoaheadofhim.“Ladiesfirst.”
HattiegrinswidelyandIsilentlypleadwithmyeyesforhernottomortifymemorethanmyownmouthandMomalreadyhave.“Miles.It’snicetoseeyouagain.”
“I’mjustgivinghimatourofthehouse.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Mom’smakingscrambledeggs.”
Hattie’seyeswidenanddartbetweenmeandMiles.“Youshouldleavenowunlessyouwanttogetsuckedintostayingforbreakfast.”
“Wealreadyagreedtotheeggs,”Milessaysfrombehindme.
Hattie’sexpressionsaysmorethanIwantitto.“Doyouwanttofakeacatemergency?”
Miles’sfingersrestonmyhip.“Wedon’tneedtodothat.Dowe?”
Iglanceovermyshoulder.Helookslikehe’stryingtofigureoutwhetherHattieisbeingdramaticornot.
Ishrug.“Icanmakesomethingupiftheawkwardlevelgetstoohigh.”
“I’lljumpinifIneedto,”Hattieoffers.
Mileslookslikehehasalotofquestions.HeandIfollowHattiedownstairs,andmypalmsstarttosweatasweapproachthekitchen.Ican’trememberthelasttimewehadsomeoneoverforameal.AndnowI’mworriedabouttheemptyspotwheremydadusedtositbeingset.
Whenwereachthekitchen,I’mrelievedtoseefourplacesset.Notfive.Thetoasterpops,andHattiestepsintobutterthetoast.Igrabtheorangejuice,andMilestakesitfromme,givingitashakebeforehepoursitintoglasses.Iaddsaltandpepperandketchuptothetable.Mymomasksmetoslicetomatoes,andagain,Milesstepsintohelp.
Iexpectbreakfasttobeawkward.Butwhenthefoodisready,weallsitdown,Milestakingtheseatthat’susuallyempty.
Mymomsmilesandshakeshernapkinopen.“It’slovelytohaveafulltable.”
Andofcourse,becausePrinceFrancisdoesn’tliketobeleftoutofanything,hetriestojumpupandjoinus.Mymom’sarmshootsouttothwarthislanding.Hislegssplayandhismouthopenswidewhenherealizesthere’sabarricade.Hedoesaflipmidairandlandsonhisfeetwithaquietthud.“Nocatsonthetable,PrinceFrancis.”
“Thatwasimpressive.”Milesclapsinappreciation.
“OuroldcatSmokeyusedtotrythatmoveallthetime.Usually,we’dkeepaspraybottlenearby,andthatwouldbeenoughtokeephimonthefloor,butit’sbeenawhilesincewe’vehadafour-leggedfriendaround.”Mymompushesawayfromthetableandgrabsafluteddessertdish,thekindweusuallyuseduringholidaydinnersforicecream.Shespoonsasmallportionofscrambledeggintothedishandsetsitonthefloornexttoherseat,thentakesherplaceatthetableagain.
Breakfastis…normal.Milesisadorablycharming,andit’sclearthatmymomisafan.Shemusttellhimhalfadozentimeshowniceitistomeethim.Andthatshehopeshe’llcomefordinnersometimesoon.
Myphonepingswithamessage,andIuseitasanexcuseforustogetgoing.
Oncewe’reinhiscarIapologizeagain.
“WhenIpickedyouup,IknewIwasgoingtomeetyourmother.Ididn’texpectittobeaone-minuteintroduction,”heassuresme.
“Shereallylikesyou.”
“Good,becauseIreallylikeyou,andhavingyourmom’ssealofapprovalseemslikeitcouldbebeneficial.Plusshemakesgreatscrambledeggs.”
“Ireallyneedtothinkaboutmovingoutsoon.MysisterandItalkedaboutityesterday.WhenHattiefinishesschool,she’llprobablymovetothecity,though,andthenmymomwillbealoneinthathouse.It’salotforonepersontotakecareof.”IvoicesomeoftheconcernsI’vebeenmullingoverrecently.Ironically,theycoincidewithmeetingMiles.
“I’msureshemustrealizeyou’regoingtowanttomoveout,too,atsomepoint,”Milessays.
“Yeah.Probably.We’venevertalkedaboutit.”Ifiddlewiththewhiskersonthefrontofmypurse.“Ithink…IfeellikeIoweittohertostay.”
Milesglancesmywayandthenrefocusesontheroad.“Whywouldyouoweittohertostay?Imean,Icanunderstandwantingtostickaroundbecauseyou’reapseudosecondparenttoyoursister.Andfinanciallyitwouldmakesense.Butowingher?”
Iswallowdownthelumpinmythroat.Ifanyonecouldunderstand,it’sMiles.“YouknowhowItoldyouIfoundmydad?”
“Yeah,thatmusthavebeensohardforyou.Ican’tevenimagine.”
Inod.“That’snotthewholestory.Mycatknewsomethingwaswrong,andhewastryingtowarnme,butIignoredhim.WhenIfinallygaveinandfollowedhimtotheatticitwastoolate.IwastoopreoccupiedwithwhatIwasdoingtopayattentiontothesigns,andIlostmydadbecauseofit.”
Milespullsintohismother’sdrivewayandputsthecarinpark.“That’salotofresponsibilitytocarryaroundwithyou.Doesyourmomknowyoufeelthisway?”
“No,butyouseenowwhyIstay.I’mthereasonmymomiswithoutmydad,soleavingherfeelswrong.”Isighandmotiontohishouse.“Allofthis,whatyou’regoingthroughwithyourmom,thewayyoufeelaboutallofit,theguiltoversomethingthatwasn’tyourfault;IrelatebetterthanIrealized.BecauseeventhoughlogicallyIknowitisn’tmyfaultthatmydaddied,it’sstillhardnottoownit.”
Milesstretcheshisarmacrossthebackoftheseat,hisfingersslidingundermyhair,andhisthumbstrokesalongthebackofmyneck.“I’msosorry,Kitty.IknowhowIfeelaboutcomingbackhere,buttofaceiteveryday…Livinginthathousewhereallthattragedytookplaceseemslikeapunishmentyoudon’tdeserve.”Hegiveshisheadasmallshake.“Grantyourselfsomegrace,Kitty—youdoitforeveryoneelse.”Heleansoverandkissesme,justasoftpress,butIfeelitinmyheart,spreadinglikeabalm.chaptertwenty-oneLITTLESTEPSMiles
KittyandIbarelymakeitthroughthedoorbeforeourmouthsarefusedandshe’stryingtopullmyshirtovermyhead.It’simpossibletodobothatthesametime,sowedisengageforafewsecondssowecanmakeshirtremovalhappen,andthenwe’rebackatit.
I’mverygladIrestockedmywalletwithcondoms,otherwiseI’dhavetotakeapausetorunouttomycartogetthem.Kittyendsupsittingontheentrytable,themailfromthepastweekscatteredonthefloor.Andthedrywallbehindthetableisn’tinthebestshapewhenwe’redone.Butwe’rebothorgasmsated,andKittynolongerlookssad,soallgoodthings.
Thestressreliefseemstobeanenergizeraswetackleboxingupthethingsmymomwillneedforhernewapartment.OncewehaveeverythingonthefrontporchIcallJosh,whoofferedhistrucktohelpwiththemove.
WhatIdon’texpectisthesecondtruck,containingParkerandAustin,anotherplayerfromtheteam.“Ibroughtreinforcements,”Joshsaysashewalksupthefrontsteps.
Kittyisinside,packingpantryitems.
“Great,thatwilldefinitelymakethingsmovefaster.”Anditwill.BothParkerandAustinaregreatguys,andtheyplayonthesameline.ItmightgivemeachancetotalktothemabouttherecentdataIpulledfortheupcominggamewithNewYorkinamorerelaxedenvironment.Parkerhasshownhugeimprovementoverthepastweekandahalf,andhe’sbeencomingtomemoreoften,askingtolookatnumbersobjectivelyandlettingmeexplainwhattheymeanandhowthatcanhelpimprovehisgame.
Myonlyissueisthathe’sarelentlessflirt.AndIwouldreallylikeitifhedidn’tflirtwithKitty.
“Pantryitemsarepacked!”
IturntofindKittywalkingtowardthefrontdoor,onlyhereyespeekingoutoverthetopofthebox.“Here,letmegetthatforyou.”
“I’mgood.It’sawkward,butlight.I’lljustsetitnexttoyourcar,soitdoesn’tendupwithalltheotherboxes.”HereyebrowspopwhenshespotsJoshnexttome.“Oh,hey,Josh.Ididn’trealizeyouwerecomingtohelp.”Shesetstheboxontheporchandholdsoutherfistforabump.“Sorry,myhandsaredirty,andsweaty.It’snicetoseeyouagain.”
Joshbumpsitbackandgivesherhiscustomarypanty-meltingsmile.“It’snicetoseeyouagaintoo,andit’scoolthatyou’rehelpingMilestoday.”
Mostwomen,frominfanttograndmother,havethesamereactiontoJoshandhissmile,andthat’stogiggle.ExceptKittydoesn’tgiggle.Orblush.Orduckherhead.Shejustsmilesandslideshergazemyway.“Idon’tmind.”
ParkerandAustinambleupthedriveway.Parkerisaboutassubtleasaflashingneonsignwithhisteamhatandshirt.Austinisdressedinregularclothes.
AssoonasParkerseesKitty,hiseyeslightup.She’swearingapairofjeansandanon–KittyWhisperershirt.Mostofthoseareloose,buttodayhershirtisfitted.AndithasaVneck.
Kittyisusuallyamodestdresser.ButthatVshowsoffahintofcleavage.Barelyanything,butitwasthefirstthingInoticedwhenIpickedherup.Well,that’suntrue.ThefirstthingInoticedwasherpaleblueleopardprintbrabecauseshewasstrugglingtogetintohershirtatthetopofthestairs.ButthecleavageVwasaclosesecond
AndParker,beinganalmost-nineteen-year-oldwalkinghormone,can’tseemtocontrolhiseyeballsorwheretheygoasheapproaches,becausetheyarefirmlylockedonherchest.Heraiseshisownpalmtohisbeefypecandstumblesbackastep.“Ican’teven.I’minthepresenceofacelebrity.KittyHart?TheKittyWhisperer.”
KittyglancesfromParkertomeandbackagain,questionsinhereyes.“Umyes,that’sme,butI’mhardlyacelebrity.”
“ParkerO’Toole.”Heclimbsthestepsandtakesoneofherhandsbetweenhis.“Youtakecareofmygreat-grandad’scat,Bumbles.He’sinlovewithyou,bytheway.Bothmygreat-grandadandhiscat.AndIcancompletelyunderstandwhy.I’mhalfwayinlovewithyoualready,andI’vejustmetyou.”Hestartstoraiseherhandtohislips.
Kitty’seyesarewide.Shetriestojerkherhandfree,butParkercanbenchtwohundredandfiftypoundsandshootsapuckatoverahundredmilesanhour.
“Iwouldn’tdothat.Ijustcleanedalitterbox,andIhaven’twashedmyhandsyet.Youcangetworms!”shepracticallyshouts.
Joshcoughstocoveralaugh.
“Weneedyouontheicetomorrownight,notintheERpumpedfullofpenicillin.Andtheheadlineonthatwouldnotbegreat.‘NHLplayerhospitalizedforingestingcatfeces,’”Iadd,hopinghe’llgetthehint.
Hedoes.Hedropsherhandandshoveshisinhispocket,pullingoutatravel-sizedbottleofhandsanitizer.“Thanksforthewarning,andthehorriblementalimage.”Hesquirtsadime-sizedamountinhismassivepalmandholdsitouttoKitty,whoacceptsthesanitizer.
“I’montheteamMilesnerdsoutovernumbersandstatsfor.”HethumbsovertomeandJosh.“AndthisisAustin.Heplaysrightwing,andIplaycenter.Doyouwatchhockey?Youshouldcometoagame.”
“Idon’thavealotoftimeforTV,”Kittysayshonestly.“Butmydadwasanavidhockeywatcher.”
“Notimelikethepresenttostart.Andthelivegamesarethebest.Icantotallygetyoutickets.”Parkerwinks,completelyobliviousthathe’smakingKittyuncomfortableandthatIwanttopunchhimintheface.
“Ohuh,that’sreallyniceofyou—”Hereyesdartmyway,andshetakesaslightstepinmydirection.
“Canwegetaselfie?You’reabigdealinthecatsofInstagramworld.Ifollowyouonsocialmedia.”
“Waytobecreepy,”Joshmutters.
ParkeristoobusyputtinghisarmaroundKitty’sshoulderandyankingherintohissidetocatchthedig.AndKitty,beingKitty,isfartoonicetosayno.
ParkermakesafacethatremindsmeofDerekZoolanderorbasicallyanyguyinthehistoryofcockyjockswhobelievethateverysinglepersonintheworldwouldbehonoredtohaveaselfietakenwithhim.Tohercredit,Kittyknowshowtoposeforaphoto.Sheanglesherbody,rollshershouldersback,adjustsherglasses,andsmiles.
Parkertakeselevenmillionpicturesinfiveseconds.Assoonashelowersthephone,Kittyslipsoutfromunderhisbeefyarmandtakesonelargesidesteptowardmeandhugsmywiryone.Itpressesherboobagainstmybiceps,whichIappreciate,apartfromthefactthatotherpartsofmybodyarealsoappreciative,andthosepartsneedtochilloutuntilwe’realone.Hopefullylatertonight.
“Miles?”
“Huh?”ClearlyI’vemissedsomething.
“Doyouwanttochecktomakesurewe’vegoteverythingbeforewestartloadingup?”Shetipsherheadupandbatsherlashesatme.
“Ohyeah.Probablyagoodidea.”
“Wecangetstartedwiththisstuff?”Austinmotionstotheboxesandfurnitureontheporch.
“That’dbeawesome.”
“I’llputthisboxonyourhood,soitdoesn’taccidentallygetputinthetruck.”Kittynodstotheboxnearthesteps.
“Icandothat.”Parker’seyesdartbetweenmeandKitty.
“I’llgivethepantryonemorepass,then,”Kittyoffers.
“Sure.I’llberightinsidetohelpyou.”
Shepushesuponhertiptoesandpressesherlipstotheedgeofmyjaw.Thenshepartsherlipsandfollowsitwithagentlebite.
Iglanceatheroutofthecornerofmyeye,andshegivesmeasaucywinkbeforeshedisappearsinside.
Parkerwatchesherdisappeararoundthecornerbeforehepunchesmeintheshoulder.Istumblebackhalfastep,notbecauseIdon’texpectit,butbecauseevenhisplayfulpunchesarehard.“Dude.AreyouboningtheKittyWhisperer?”Hethrustshishipsacoupleoftimes.
Austinpuncheshiminthearm,notplayfully.“Asshole,we’restandinginthemiddleofasubdivision,andyou’rebasicallyawalkingadvertisementforourfreakingteam.Youcan’tmakeobscenegesturesinpublic.Andtherearekidsplaying.”Heinclineshishead.
Threedoorsdownthere’sawomanstandingonherlawn,whilehertoddlerdoescirclesonhistricycleonthedriveway.She’sveryclearlywatchingus.Iraiseahandinawave,andshewavesback.
“Shit.Sorry.”Parkeralsowaves.“Butseriously,theKittyWhisperer.Man,she’sevenhotterinpersonthansheisonIG.Ibetshe’sfeistyinbed.”Hewaggleshisbrows.
Irubthebackofmyneckandfightwithmylipsnottomovetowardthesky,becausesheis,indeed,feistyinbed.“Thisisn’tthelockerroom,Parker,andwhileyoumightbeokaywithtalkingaboutyoursexualexploitswitheveryoneyouknow,Idon’tkissandtell.”
“Soyouarehittingthat.”Hesmirksandnodsknowingly.
“Canyoustopbeingafratboyforfiveminutes?”Joshgrumbles.
“Canwegetthetrucksloaded?”Imotiontothestuffontheporch.“AndcanyounotflirtwithKitty,”IsaytoParker.“You’remakingheruncomfortable,andshe’stoonicetoputyouinyourplace.Andifyoutouchherormakeanyfurtherinappropriatecomments,Iexercisetherighttopunchyou.”Iholdupafingertostophimfrominterrupting.“AndIwon’tgiveyouthelow-downonNewYork’sdefense,whichiswhatwehadtroublewiththelasttimeweplayedthem.”
Heholdsuphishands.“Shit,sorry.Ididn’trealizeyoutwowereanactualthing.Iwon’tflirtwithher.Justdon’tleavemehangingfortomorrow’sgame.We’rehavingasolidrun.”
IleavethemontheporchandcheckonKitty.WhoIfindinthepantry,fillinganotherbox.“Hey.SorryaboutParker.”
Shesetsabagoffusilliinsidethebox.“Helookslikehe’sstillinhighschool.Doesheevenknowhowtousearazor?”
Ilaugh.“He’seighteen.Hedoesn’tknowhowtodomuchotherthanrunhismouth.”
Shechuckles.
“Itoldhimtocutitontheflirting.”Ileanagainstthedoor-jamb.“Andifyoudon’twanthimtopostoneofthoseselfies,Icantellhimthat,too.”
“Idon’tcareabouttheselfies,unlessyoudo.”Shetipsherhead,herexpressionquestioning.
“I’mfinewithitifyou’refinewithit.”
Shepushesuponhertiptoes,tryingtoreachaboxofcookiesonthetopshelf.
Igrabitandpassittoher.“Andifyouwantticketstoagame,Icangetthemforyou,noproblem.Maybeyouwanttobringyoursisterorsomething.Ifshewatcheshockey.Butnopressure.”
Shestepscloserandrunsahandupmychest.“I’dlovetoseewhatyoudo.”
“Myjobisn’tveryexciting.Thegameiswherealltheactionis.”
“Idon’tknowifIagreewiththat,butitwouldbefunallthesame.”Shewrapsherhandaroundthebackofmyneckandpullsmymouthtohers.
Igetcaughtupinthekissuntiloneoftheguyscomeslookingforme.“Let’sputapininthisuntilwe’realoneagain.”
Wefinishmovingmymother’sbelongingsintothehomeearlyintheafternoon.IthanktheguysandKittyfortheirhelpbytakingthemoutforlunch,andthenKittyandIheadbacktothehometofinishunpacking.
ThenextdayImovemymotherintothehome.WedecidedthatitwouldbebesttowaituntilshesettledinbeforewebroughtPrinceFrancisoverforavisit;otherwise,itcouldbeconfusing.
Icarrymymother’sbagaswewalkdownthehall.She’sinoneofthehighlymonitoredwingsofthehome,withindividualswhosufferfromsimilarailments.Thestaffassuredmethatshewouldhavepeopleheragetominglewith,andthatwhilethefirstfewweeksareusuallythemostchallenging,she’lladjust.
Iunlockthedoorforherandusherherinside,thenurseaidefollowing.
Mymotherwalksdowntheshorthallandstepsintothesmalllivingroomarea.Thewholespaceislessthanathirdofthesizeofherhouse,butitshouldbemuchmoremanageableforher.Shecrossestheroomandstopsinfrontofthebookshelf.It’snexttothelounger.Shetrailsherfingersalongthetrinkets—theoneswewereabletosavefromPrinceFrancis’stwitchypaw.
Shepicksuponeoftheframedphotos.It’sofher,me,andToby,takenprobablyayearbeforehediedandthingsfellapart.Shelookedhappy.Wealldid.
Shestandsthereforamoment,juststaringatthepicture,andIworrythatIshouldn’thaveputitthere.Thatit’sthethingthat’sgoingtotipherovertheedge.Thatshe’llgetangryandhaveameltdown.
Sheturnstomeandgivesmeasmallsmile,hereyessoftandwatery.“Didyoudoallofthis,Miles?”
Islipahandinmypocketandnod,tryingtohidemysurprisethatsheremembersI’mme.“Ihadsomehelpfromafewfriends.”
“Itlooks…familiar.”Shesetsthepicturebackontheshelfandcrossestheroom.Hereyesareclear,likeshe’sherewithmeinthismomentandnotfloatinginthepast.Shegivesmeatremuloussmile.“Thankyou.IknowI’mlostinmyheadalotofthetimeandthatIforgetsomanythings,butIwantyoutoknowthatIloveyou,Miles.AndI’msorryIforgothowtobeamotherwhenyouneededmethemost.Ididn’tknowhowtodealwiththeholeIcreatedinourfamily.”Shewrapsherarmsaroundme,andIswallowdowntheemotions,foldingherintoahug.
“WealllostourselvesforawhilewhenwelostToby.I’msorryIdidn’tgooutsidewithhimwhenIshouldhave,”Itellher.
“Itwasneveryourfault,Miles.Itwasmyjobtobewatching,notyours.I’msorryI’mgoingtoforgetthis.Iwishmymindwasstillmine.”
“It’sokay,Mom.It’snotyourfault.AndIloveyou,too.AndI’llkeeptellingyou,nomatterhowmanytimesyouforget.”chaptertwenty-twoCAT-TASTICPARTYKitty
SoIknowthisisprobablylastminute,anditisn’tthedinnerdateIkeeppromisingI’mgoingtotakeyouon,butuh…oneoftheguysontheteamdecidedtothrowaHalloweenparty,andIwonderedifmaybeyou’dbeinterestedincoming.It’sokayifthat’snotyourthing,andyoucansayno,butIfiguredI’dthrowitoutthere.Nopressure.”Milessoundsnervous,andIbetthatifIcouldseehim,I’dseehimfidgetingwithsomething.Probablyapen
I’mcurrentlystandingonthescreened-inbackporch,tryingtogetPrinceFrancistostopimpersonatingSpider-Man.He’ssplayedoutonthewindowscreen,desperatetogettothesquirrelsittingonatreebranchlessthanfiftyfeetaway.ThesquirrelisclearlytauntingPrinceFrancis,andwhileit’ssomewhathilarious,Idon’twanttoreplaceanymorescreens.
It’sarealconundrum,becausePrinceFrancislovesitouthereontheporch,butthatsquirrelhasbeenplayinghide-and-seekwithhimsincehemovedinlastweek.
“AHalloweenparty?”
Hattie,whoissittinginoneofthechairs,sippingcoffeeandreadingforoneofhercourses,looksupfromhertextbookandstartsmouthingthingsatme.
Iignoreher.
“Yeah.It’sacostumeparty.Iguessit’smandatorytodressup.Apparently,lastyearanyonewhodidn’tgotslimed.”
“Slimed?”
“Well,itwasn’tactualslime,butitwasneonfoam.Anditstainedpeople’sskinuntiltheyshowered.Ormaybeittookafewdaysforthegreentowearoff.I’msuretherearepicturesonsocialmediaaboutit.I’mnotreallydoingaverygoodjobofsellingthis,amI?”
“ButifIwearacostume,Idon’thavetoworryaboutthewholeneonfoamslimesituation?”
“No.Notifyouwearacostume.Doesthismeanyou’reinterestedincoming?”
“Sure.Ithinkitsoundsfun.”AndI’dliketoseeMileswithhiscolleagues.HisfriendJoshisnice,andwhileParkerhasmoreenergyandegothanI’musedto,Austinwasdowntoearth.
“Great.Okay.That’sawesome.I’llpickyouupateightonSaturday.”
“Shouldwecoordinateourcostumes?”Iask.
“Hmm.Maybe.Ihadn’tthoughtofthat.Doyouhaveanysuggestions?”
Hattiestartswavingherhandsaroundintheair.
“Letmethinkaboutit,andI’llgetbacktoyou?Ormaybeyouhaveanidea?”
“I’mnotsure,butlastyearJoshwentasahighschooler,andtheytossedhiminthepoolbecausehedidn’tputinenougheffort.Granted,hejustthrewonoldtrackpantsandatoo-smallshirtandborrowedhisniece’skindergartenbackpack.So…itshouldprobablybebetterthanthat.”
Thisisstartingtosoundabitlikearaucousparty.“Hmm.Okay.Well,let’sthinkaboutitandtossoutsomeideasandseeifwecan’tfindsomethingthatworks.”
Iendthecall,andHattieclapsherhandsexcitedly.“Iknowexactlywhatyoushouldbe!”
“Idon’tknowaboutthis.”
“Youlookawesome.NowholdstillsoIcanfinishyoureyes.Thisisthetrickypart.”
WhenmysistersuggestedthatIdressupasCatwomanforHalloween,Iimmediatelythoughtitwasanawesomeidea.Imean,howmuchmoreperfectcoulditget?Kitty,theKittyWhisperer,dressedupasCatwoman.Itseemedlikeano-brainer.Andobviouslyperfect.Butthatwasbeforeshepouredmeintoanon-breathable,skin-tightzipperedbodysuit.
“There’salotofcleavagehappening.”
“You’reawomanwithboobs.Andyou’reCatwoman.Youneedcleavage.Milesisgoingtolovethis,”Hattieassuresme.“You’reasmokeshow.”
“Haveyouseensomeofthosehockeyplayers’wives?Theylooklikemodels.Someofthemevenaremodels.”Idon’tknowwhyI’msuddenlyself-conscious.
“Thosearesocialmediaposts.Theysmootheverythingoutandmakethemlookperfect.They’rehumansjustlikeyouandme.”
“Youlooklikeasupermodel,too,”Igripe.
Hattiekeepsupwiththeeyeliner.“JustwaituntilMilesseesyou.Thenyou’llforgetallaboutbeingself-conscious.Ipromise.”
“I’llhavetotakeyourwordforit,”Imutter,thengobacktosittingstillsoHattiecanfinishmyeyemakeup.
Whenshegetstothelipstickportion,Itrytopushheraway.“Ow!Itfeelslikeyou’reputtingcayennepepperonmylips!Whatisthis?”
“Canyoustop,please?It’salipstain.Youdon’thavetoworryaboutreapplyingonceit’sset,butifyoukeepmovingaround,I’llhavetostartover.”
IstopmovingandletherdoherthingbecauseIdon’twantmoreliptorturethannecessary.WhenItrytopopmylips,theygetstucktogether.“Whatisit?Somekindofglue?”
“No.LikeIsaid,it’salipstain.Keepthemparted.I’mnotdoneyet.”Sheswipesoverthemwithsomecleargelstuff.Ihopeit’snotlikeafinishcoatfornails,otherwisethisisgoingtobeaseriouslyuncomfortablenightformylips.
Afewminutesandacoupleofpluckedeyebrowhairslater,sheletsmelookinamirrorforthefirsttimesinceIsatinhercomputerchair.“Ta-da!Whatdoyouthink?”Shepropsherfistsonherhipsandsmileswidely,clearlyimpressedwithherself.
Ihavetoadmit,I’mequallyimpressed.Ipuckermylips.They’rebrightred.Theylookfullandpoutyandkissable.“Ilooklikemewithafilter.”
“Youlooklikeyou,butwithmakeup,”Hattiereplies.Shehandsmethecleartubeoflipgloss.Aftersheputitonmylipstheyfeltfine.Likemylips,notpaintedfingernails.
“Iguessnomakingoutinthecarbeforetheparty,”Imuse.
“Ohyoucantotallymakeout.That’sthewholepointofalipstain.Youjusthavetoremembertoreapplytheglossregularlyandthatstuffwillstayputallnightlong,evenwithmake-outsessions.”
“Seriously?”
“Superseriously.It’llmakeitthroughanentireblowjob.Trytowipeitoff,”Hattiesays.
Irubmyfingersovermylipsandglancedownatthem.There’snothingonthembutgloss.Thecolorisstillonmylips.“Whatisthisstuff?”
“It’smagic.That’sallyouneedtoknow.NowputyourshoesonsoIcantakesomepicturesbeforeMilesgetshere.He’ssupposedtopickyouupinfifteen,butthatguyhasnochillwhenitcomestoyou,sohe’llprobablybeearly.”
Igathermybag,whichofcourseiscatthemed.AndImakesuremycatearheadbandisn’taskewasIzipupmyboots.Theyhavethree-inchheels,whichI’mnotaccustomedtowearing,buttheycompletetheoutfitandwearingflatswithashinypleatherfull-bodysuitwouldbeaterriblefashionstatementandruinthiscostume,accordingtoHattie.It’shardtoarguewhenmylegslookliketheygoonfordays.
Sheposesmeandtakesatonofphotos,airdroppingthemtomeimmediately.“YouneedtopostonyourKittyWhispereraccount.It’stooperfectacostume.”
Ibitemylip,gratefulforthelipstainanditsabilitytostayput.“Idon’tknowifIshould.It’snotreallybusinessrelated.”
“You’reCatwomanonHalloween.Howisthatnotbusinessrelated?”
“ParkerO’Toole,oneoftheguysontheteam,tooksomephotoswhenweweremovinghismom’sstuff,andIguesshemadeareeloutofthem,ormaybehehasasocialmediapersonwhodoesthat.Anyway,hetaggedme,soIpostedittomyreelsbecauseheaddedaclipofBumblestoit,butthereweresomecommentsonitaboutstayinginmylaneandpostingauthenticcontent.”
Hattierollshereyes.“Therearealwaysgoingtobehaters,Kitty.Youcan’tletthemdictatewhatyoupostandwhen.”
“Theyjustdon’tusuallycommentonmypostslikethat.”
“Yourfollowingisgrowing.Itwasonepost,andit’sHalloween.GrabPrinceFrancisandwe’llpostoneaboutyouandyoursidekick,howaboutthat?”
ShetakesafewpicturesandashortvideoofPrinceFrancisdoingwhathedoesbest,pretendinghe’smyscarfwhilebitingmyear.IpostthatonewithahappyHalloweenmessageandheaddownstairstowaitforMiles.
Hearrivesfourminutesearly.He’sdressedasBatman,obviously.It’sabitironic,consideringourbeginning,whenI’dpeggedhimforacat-hatingjerk.IsmileasItakeinhiscostume.Thetorsoismadetolooklikeripplingabs.Hissmileslidesoffhisfacelikeaneggoffagreasypan.“Holyfu—”Hedoesn’tfinishthecurseashisgazeliftsovermyshoulderandhisvoicerisestwooctaves.“Oh,hello,LucileandHattie.It’snicetoseeyouagain.”
Iglanceovermyshoulder.Mymotherandsisterarepeekingaroundthedoorframe.Theylooklikepartofsomecartooncomedysketchwiththewaymysister’schinrestsontopofmymother’shead.“Seriously?Canyoupleasehavesomechill?”
“Weneedapicture!Youtwolookperfecttogether!”MymotherrushesdownthehalltothelivingroomwhileHattiepullsherphoneoutofherbackpocket.
“Youdon’tneedapicture,”ItellHattie.
“Iwouldn’tmindsomephotographicevidenceofthis,”Milesreplies.
Iarchabrow.
Heliftsonepadded,cape-coveredshoulder.“Youlookamazing,andIdefinitelyneedanewscreensaver.”
Iwrapmyarmaroundhiswaist,andheslingshisovermyshoulder.
“Thisfeelsalotlikeprom.OrwhatIthinkpromwouldhavefeltlikeifI’dgone.”
“Youdidn’tgotoprom?”Milesasks.
“Stopmakingweirdfacesandsmile,Kitty!”Hattietakesafewpictures,andthenmymomcomesoutwithaPolaroidcameraandherphoneandtakesabunchofherown.Finally,I’mallowedtograbmypurseandescape.I’mgratefulthatmymomandsisterdonotstandonthefrontstepsandwaveaswepulloutofthedriveway.Instead,theystandinthekitchen,fauxleaningagainstthecounter,pretendingthey’remakingteawhenthey’rereallywatchingusleave.
“Ineedtoknowmoreaboutthis.Youdidn’tgotoprom?Whynot?”
“Iskippedit.MeandmyfriendKatwentoutforicecreamsundaesandthenhungoutatthelocalcatshelterinstead.Promwasn’tmyscene,anditwasn’tKat’seither.”IanswertheunaskedquestionIknowiscoming.“WastherealittleFOMO?Sure.Butwestoppedbyoneoftheafterpartiestoseewhatthefusswasallaboutonourwayhomefromtheshelter.”
“And?Didyouregretthedecision?”
“Nope.Halfthegirlswereeithercryingorbarfing,andalltheguysweresloppydrunk.Wedecidedwe’dmadetherightchoiceandwenthomefeelingsatisfiedwithourdecision.”
“Ifeellikethisistheglossed-overversionofthestory.”
Igivehimtheside-eye.It’stheabridgedversion,buttherestisn’timportant,andtheembarrassingpartsdon’tneedairtime.“Didyougotoprom?”
“Idid.Itookmygirlfriendatthetime.Attheendofthenight,shewasoneofthebarfingandcryinggirls,andsinceIwasthedesignateddriver,Igottowatchallmyfriendsgetsloppydrunkandthenpraynoonewouldhurlinthecaronthewayhome.”
“Soundslikeabust.”
Milesshrugs.“Itwasn’tthemostidealscenario,butJoshwasthere,andaftereveryonepassedout,wewentswimminginhisparents’poolandatehisolderbrother’sedibles,whichmadeupforallthecryingandpukingI’ddealtwithearlier.”
“Ifyou’dskippedoutonpromyoucouldhavegonedirectlytothefunstuff,though.”
“Mystorywouldn’tbequitesointeresting,ornostalgic.”Hearchesabrow.“WhoisthisKatpersonanyway?Andisitcoincidenceorpurposefulthatyou’reKittyandyouhaveafriendnamedKat?AndhowoftendidpeoplecallyouKittyKatwhenyouweretogether?”Milesasks.
Ichuckle.“Peoplecalledusthatallthetime.Thecoincidenceofournameswastheicebreakerinourgradeninedramaclass.Afterthat,wewerebasicallyanextensionofeachotherthroughhighschool.”
“Andyou’restillfriendsnow?”
“Ohyeah.SheownsKat’sCatCafé.IhaveanofficeintherethatIuseforpaperworkandscheduling,andinexchangeIhelpKatwithhersocialmediaposts.WhichIneedtoremembertodothisweekend.Anyway,thecaféisexactlywhatitsoundslike:acoffeeshopfullofcatsyoucanhangoutwithwhileyoudrinkteaorcoffee.It’sprettypopular.”
“Wehaveadogcaféclosetothepark,andIthinkmaybethere’sacatcafécloseby,butIhaven’treallypaidattentionsinceIonlyhaveWilfred.”Milestapsthesteeringwheel.
“Iwouldn’tbesurprisedifthereisone.Doggytreatbakerieshavebeenpopularforawhile,butcatcafésarestartingtogaintraction.Ifyouweren’tatriskofexplodingbygoinginone,I’doffertotakeyou.”
“I’veonlyhadthatonereaction,andIhavemoretestscomingupinafewweekssincemyallergytocatsisn’tbadenoughtoputmeinthehospital.”
“Sotheystillhaven’tfiguredoutwhatyou’reallergicto?”Thatmakesmenervous,becauseitmeansitcouldhappenagain.
“Notyet,no.I’vegottheEpiPenwithmeuntilwefigureitout.”
Itapmylips.“Hmm.Iwonderwhatyoureactedto.”
Milesshrugs.“Dunno.Theytoldmetotrackmydiettoseeifitcouldbefoodrelated,butallI’vededucedsofaristhatIeatalotofsaltandvinegarchips.Andfries.Lotsoffries.”
Ipokehimintheside.“Itdoesn’tshow.”
“Oneofthesedaysit’llcatchupwithme,andmytwo-packwillbecomeazero-pack.”
Ilaugh.“Youhaveatleastafour-pack.”
“Tonight,Ihaveafulleight-packthough.”Hepatsthefoamabsthatcoverhistorso,thenturnsrightintoasubdivision.
It’sinanestatesubdivisionoutsideofthecity.Thehouseshereareonhugelots,setbackfromtheroad,givingthemampleroomtodecorateforHalloween.Anddecoratetheydo.“Ohwow,thisisamazing.Thesehousesareincredible!”
We’velivedinthesamehousesinceIwasborn.It’saquainttwo-story,three-bedroomhouseinaquietneighborhoodinasmalltownaboutforty-fiveminutesoutsideofthecity—withouttraffic,anyway.Andthere’salwaystraffic.Itsuitsthethreeofusjustfine,butthisisawholedifferentlevelofhouse.
Thesearedesignedtobebeautifulandtowowpeoplewiththeirlong,windingdrivewayscoveredininterlockingstone,manicuredlawnsandgardens,andgrandfrontdoors.AndeveryhouseonthestreetisdecoratedforHalloween.Idon’tjustmeanthereareacoupleoffakeRIPheadstonesstuckinthelawnwithaskeletontryingtoclawitswayoutoftheearth.
Onelawnhasacarriagedrawnbyskeletonhorses,drivenbyaskeletonwearingasuitandatophat.Anotherhasagroupofwitchesinfrontofacauldronthat’ssomehowlitupfromtheinside,castingaghastlygreenglowoverthewitchfaces.
“Abunchoftheguysontheteamlivehere,andtheygoalloutfortheholidays.Therearealotoffamilieswithkids,sotheymakeitexcitingforthem.”
“Icanseethat.”Icanonlyimaginewhatthecollectiveincomewouldbeinaneighborhoodlikethis.
Lessthanaminutelaterwepullintoacirculardrivewaylinedwithcars.Likealltheothers,thisoneisalsodecoratedfortheholiday,butinsteadofbeingghastlyandfullofscarythingsandskeletons,it’swhimsicalandcute.There’sagirlskeletonwithabowinherhairwalkingaskeletondog.Friendlyghostshangfromthetrees,andspiderwebswithadorablespidersspanthefrontporch.
MynerveskickinasMilesparksthecarandhopsout.Hiscapeflaresimpressivelyasherushesaroundthehoodtoopenthepassengerdoorforme.Andmyhormonesflarewhenheholdsouthishandandhelpsmeout.Hedoesn’tletgoofmyhand.Instead,hepullsmecloser,andItipmychinup.
“I’mprettysureI’vesaidthisalready,butyoulookamazing.Notthatyoudon’talwayslookamazing,becauseyoudo.ButI’mgoingtobetotallyhonest.AsateenIhadaseriouscrushonCatwoman,likepostersonmywallsbesidemybedkindofcrush,sothisislikeafantasycometolife.”
“Batmanwasalwaysmyfavoritesuperhero.”Irunmyhandoverhisfoampecs.
“Ohreally?”
“Ilovedthathewasaregularguywhowantedtomaketheworldabetterplaceandwasatotalbadassdoingit.”MilesiswearingtheBatmanmask,soonlythebottomhalfofhisfaceisvisible.Itdrawsattentiontohisstrongchinandhisfull,verykissablelips.
Hisgazedartsdown.
“I’dreallyliketokissyou,butIdon’twanttomessupyourlipstick.”
“Itdoesn’tcomeoff,soyoucanabsolutelykissmewithoutusbothlookinglikeclownsgonewrong.”
“Really?”
“Really,really.”Ipressmylipstothebackofmyhandandshowhim.
“Whatisthissorcery?”Hedipsdownandpresseshislipsgentlytomine,thenpullsbackandrubshisthumboverhislips.Itcomesawaywithnothingbutglossresidue.Hecomesbackinforanotherkiss,thistimewithtongue,butagainitdoesn’tlast.Hebacksupenoughtocheckthestateofmymouthbeforeheclaimsitagain.ThistimeIenduppressedagainstthesideofthecar.Histhighfindsitswaybetweenmylegs,soIpartthemandhookonearoundhisandloopmyarmsaroundhisneck.
Idon’tknowhowlongwestandthere,grindingoneachother,buttheonlyreasonwebreakapartisbecausetheflashofheadlightscomingdownthedrivewaytellsuswe’renotalone.Milesdoessomerearranginginhisspandexpants,andhegrumblesaboutbeinggladhehasacapetocoverhisissue,andthatmaybeweshouldmakeabriefappearancesowecangobacktohisplaceandpickthisupwhereweleftoff.
I’mnotopposedtothatplan.Iprefersmall,intimategatheringswhereIknowmostofthepeopleoverbigparties.Andifthere’sananimalinthehouse,Icanoftenbefoundsittingwiththefour-leggedcreatures,sincethey’realwaysrivetedbymyconversationskills.
TheothercarpullsinbehindMilesandcutsthelights.Aguygetsoutofthefrontseat,andawomanunfurlsfromthepassengerside.Herhairislonganddark,andshelookslikeshejuststeppedoutofthepagesofamagazine.She’sclearlyBelleinherhugeyellowdress.It’ssoelaboratesheremindsmeofacaketopper.Whichmeansthehuge,burlymanissupposedtobePrinceAdam.He’swearingasuit,andhislongishhairisslickedback.
ThemanlooksbetweenmeandMiles,hisbrowspullingtogetherashiseyesdroptothelicenseplateonthecar.Hisbrowspop.“Thorn?”
“Hey,Beavin.Hi,Teresa,youtwolookgreat.”Milestriestotuckahandinhispocketastheyapproach,buthedoesn’thaveanypockets,sohepropsitonhishipforasecondbeforehedropsittohisside.
I’mstilltryingtofigureoutifBeavinisanicknameorarealnameoralastname.
BeavinclapsMilesontheshoulder,thenpatshisfoamchest.“Youbeenworkingout,man?”
“Nah,temporaryabimplants.”Herunsahandoverthem,thenputshisarmaroundmyshoulder.“Kitty,thisisMarkBeavin.Heplaysdefense.Andthisishiswife,Teresa.Sherunsanot-for-profitcompanythatpairschildrenwithsupportdogs.”
“Ohwow.That’samazing!It’ssonicetomeetyouboth.”Itrytowipemyhandonmyhip,butmyoutfitispleather,soitdoesn’tabsorbthesweatatall.
Shedoesn’tsayanythingaboutmyslightlydamppalmassheshakesmyhandandtellsmeit’sgreattomeetme.“Youtwoaresocute!HaveyouandMilesbeendatinglong?Whyhaven’tIseenyouatagame?”Teresahooksherarmwithmineandguidesmetowardthehouse,leavingtheguystrailingbehindus
“We’veonlybeenseeingeachotherforafewweeks,”Iexplain.
“Well,wedefinitelyneedtogetyououttoagame.It’ssomuchfun.Andwehaveabox,andseatsontheice,soyoucanpickwhereyouwanttowatchtheactionfrom.”
“Thatsoundsamazing.”
Thesecondwe’reinthedoors,agroupofwomenconvergesonTeresa.Itsoundsabitlikeaflockofchickenscluckingateachother.Andnotinabadway,justinanexcitedtoseeeachotherway.It’sclearthattheyspendalotoftimetogetherandthatthey’regoodfriends.Iwonderwhatthatmustbelike,tohaveahusbandorboyfriendwhotravelshalftheyear.Iimagineitcouldgetlonely,andthatpartofthereasonthey’reallsocloseisbecausetheyneedthesupportoftheirfriendstomanagethoseaway-gamestretches.
Oneofthewomenhandsmeadrink,andTeresaintroducesmetothewivesandgirlfriends,alldressedupasprincesses.IfeellikeImissedthememoinmyCatwomancostume.AndIstandoutmorethanI’dliketo.
Anothergrouparrives.Theseguyslookyounger,andnoneofthemhavebroughtdates.Theystoptosayhitothewomensurroundingme,complimentingthemontheircostumes.Again,I’mstruckbyhowclosetheteamis,andhowtheyincludeMileslikehe’soneofthem.There’safamily-likebond.
Hattieplayedteamsports,butIhadn’tbeengoodatthem,soIstucktoclubswheregettinghitbyballsandpotentiallydisappointingteammateswasn’taproblem.
Parkerinsertshimselfintothegroup.He’sdressedupas…I’mnotsure,buthe’sshirtlessandwearingakilt.Maybehe’sahighlandromancenovelcovermodel.Hegivesmeaonce-over,hisgazelingeringforamomentonmycleavage.“Andwho’sthis?”
Teresa,whoisstandingbesideme,linksherarmwithmine.“ThisisKitty,Miles’sgirlfriend.”
Hiseyebrowsshootup.“Kitty?Ohshit.Ididn’trecognizeyou.MaybeIshouldhave,though.Bomb-asscostume,girl.Kitty,theKittyWhisperer,dressedupasCatwoman.”Hegivesmealopsidedgrinwhilenoddinghisappreciation
“Waitasecond.You’reKitty,theKittyWhisperer.”Teresa’sholdonmyarmtightens.
AndsuddenlyI’mbombardedwithquestions.Halfthewomeninthecircleapparentlyfollowmeonsocialmedia.AndthatpictureParkerpostedwhenweweremovingMiles’smother’sstuffgotalotoftraction.Myfollowercounthasgoneupbyagoodtenthousandormoresincethen,andI’vegottenacouplenewsponsorshipopportunities.Atfirst,Iwasshockedbythesheervolumeofnewfollowers,andofcoursetherewereanumberofmessagesfromguysmakinglewdcomments.WhichIexpected,becauseI’mawarethenameofmycat-sittingcompanyisaeuphemism.Ididn’tmaketheconnectionuntilafterthefact,andbythenIwasalreadyestablished,anditwastoolatetochangeit.
OvertheyearsI’vegottenusedtocombingmypostsforthejuvenilekittycommentsanddeletingthem,orrespondingwithapoliteredirect,lettingthemknowthatI’mnotthatkindofkittywhispererandaskingiftheytalktotheirmotherswiththatmouth.That’susuallyenoughtoshutthemup.ButIdidn’texpectthemeanonesaboutplayingthegameandelevatingmysocialstatuswithNHLplayersadecadeyoungerthanme.MaybeIshouldhave,though.PeoplejumpedtoconclusionsthatbecauseParkerhadhisarmaroundmethatI’dautomaticallyjumpedintobedwithhim.Thewomencommentingweretheworst,andextracatty.
There’sasuddenflurryofexcitementasthewomensurroundmeforagroupselfie.Andofcourse,becauseIseemtobeadiviningrodforallfour-leggedanimals,anadorable,chonkypuglumbersovertointroducehimself.Hejumpsup,hispawsonmythighs,andsniffsmycrotchwhilewe’reinthemidstofanotherroundofphotos.
“Barnaby!Whereareyourmanners!Youknowbetterthantodothat!”Sadie,thehostoftheparty,scoldshim,whilepullinghimaway.“I’msosorry.”
“It’sokay.It’showtheysayhello.”Bigdogsjumpinguponmecanbeabitmuch,butthisguyistoosmalltoknockmeover.
Ablack-and-whitetuxedocatcomestrottingdownthestairs,almostthesamesizeasthepug,probablybecauseheheardhisfour-leggedhousemategettingscoldedandwantstowatchtheshow.HeplunkshimselfdownbesideBarnaby,who’sbusylookingveryguiltyforhisbehavior.
“Andwhoisthislittleguy?”
“That’sCleveland.Thesetwoarebestfriendsortotalenemies,dependingonthetimeofday,”sheinformsme.
I’maskedallsortsofquestionsaboutmycat-sittingbusiness,howIgotstarted,howI’vemanagedtomakeitafull-timejob.Idiscoverthatalotofthemareinvolvedwithvolunteerandcharityorganizations,manyofthemanimalrelated.AllofasuddenI’mbeingofferedintroductionsandnewopportunitiesInevercouldhaveimagined.Andallforagreeingtocometoaparty.ItrynottoletthecommentsonthatpostParkerputupbotherme,butIworrytherewillbemoreifIacceptsomeofthesegenerousoffers.Althoughthepotentialbenefitofbeingabletotakecareofmorekittiesinneedprobablyoutweighsthenegativecomments.
Milessidlesupnexttomeandapologizesfortakingsolong.
Ismileupathim.“It’sokay.I’mhavingfun.”
Parkerpopshisheadbetweenoursandholdsouthisphone,snappingaquickselfie.
“Hey,carefulwhatyoupost,okay?”Milestellshim.
“Sir,yessir.”Parkersaluteshimandmovesontothenextcoupletodothesamething.
Ifrown,andhedropshisheadsohislipsareatmyear.“Everyonethoughthewasdatingyouafterthatlastpost,andhe’sgettinghimselfareputationforbeingaladies’man,”Milesexplains.“Ijustdon’twantanymorenegativeattentionforyou.”
Iturnintohimandtipmychinup.“Icanhandlealittlenegativeattention.”
Hissmileturnswry,andhishandsettlesonmyhip.“Iknowyoucan,butitdoesn’tmeanyoushouldhaveto.”
Ipushuponmytoesandkissthebottomofhischin.“Ineedtousetheladiesroom.”
“CanIgetyouanything?”Milesasks.
“Awaterwouldbegood.”Thatlastdrinkwasstrong,andI’mfeelingtheeffects.“I’llbebackinaminute.”
Hedipsdowntokissme,thehardplasticofhisnosepokingmeinthecheek.
Someonesnapsaphoto,cooingabouthowcuteweare.
I’maccustomedtobeingcalledcute.I’mnotparticularlytall,andmostofthetimeIwearcatcartoon–inspiredshirts.
Iexcusemyselffromthegroupanddisappeardownthehallinsearchofthebathroom.OnthewaybacktothelivingroomInoticeBarnabyandClevelandsittingbytheslidingglassdoor,lookingliketheywanttobeontheothersideofit.
IcheckwithSadietoseeifthey’reallowedoutside.
“Ohyes.Givemeaminute,I’lltakethemout.It’sgettingclosetoBarnaby’sbedtime,andwealwaysgivehimonelastrunaroundtheyard,”shesays.
“Icandoitforyou.Ireallydon’tmind.”Asfunasthispartyis,IcoulduseafewminutesbeforeIdivebackintobeingsocial.
Hergazeshiftsfrommetoherpetsandtheirswishingtails.“You’reourguest.Ican’taskyoutodothat.”
“Honestly,Iwouldloveto,”Iassureher.
Herhusband,Matt,popshisheadinthekitchenandaskswherehecanfindlemonslices.“GivemeasecondandI’llcutupanotherone.”Shebitesherlip,thensaystome,“You’resureyoudon’tmind?”
“Totallypaws-itive.”Iwink.“Youtakecareofyourguests,andI’lltakecareofthefurbabies.”
Shesqueezesmyarm.“You’reamazing,Kitty.Thankyou.”
“Mypleasure.”
Ileaveherinthekitchenandgrabapoopbagfromtherollbythedoor,tuckitintomysleevesincethiscostumehasnopockets,andletBarnabyandClevelandoutside.Barnabyrunsacrossthedeckintotheexpansiveyard,whichlightsupashetrotsacrossit,tonguelollinghappily.Clevelandflopsdownonthedeckandstartsgroominghisstomach.
AfewsecondslaterBarnabycomesboundingbacktowardthedeck,aFrisbeetwicethesizeofhisheadinhismouth.Heskidstoastopinfrontofme,tailandbuttwaggingwithhisexcitement.
“Doyouwanttohavealittleplay?”Iask.
HedropstheFrisbeeatmyfeetandbarksonce,buttstillshimmyingbackandforthonthedeck.Clevelandpausesinhisgroomingtogivehimadisdainfullook,thenreturnstohistask.
IpickuptheFrisbee,whichBarnabyplayfullytriestograbfromme,butwhenImanagetofreeitfromhisteeth,heprancesaroundacoupleoftimesandthenplunkshisbuttonthedeck.
IthrowtheFrisbee,andherushesacrossthelawn,jumpingintotheairtocatchitbeforeithitstheground.IknowIshouldn’tbegonelong,orMileswillwonderwhereI’vedisappearedto.I’mnotusedtohugecrowds,orthismanypeopleknowingwhoIam.Sure,Ihavealotoffollowersonsocialmedia,andpeopleinmytownknowwhoIam,butthisisadifferentlevelofattention.Itmakesmewonderhowintenseitmustbefortheplayers,sincetheyhavesomanyfanswhowouldrecognizetheirfaces.
ItosstheFrisbeeagainandwaitforBarnabytobringitback.Clevelandjumpsupontherailingandslinksacrossit,hisfocusonthetreethathangsovertheedgeofthedeck.
Ihearthetauntingchatterofananimal,andCleveland’stailflicksbackandforth.BarnabydropstheFrisbeeonthedeckandtrotsovertoCleveland,whoisstillasastatue,apartfromhisswishingtail.Barnabywhimpers,andClevelandletsoutalowgrowl.
Idecideit’stimetotaketheminside.ThelastthingIneedisClevelandtryingtoscaleatreeorBarnabychasingdownapooranimalandusingitasachewtoy.Notthathecoulddoalotofdamage,butnoonelikestoroundoutapartywithadeadsquirrel.
Iopentheslidingdoorandcallbothoftheirnames,buttheyeitherignoremeorcan’thearmeoverthechatterofvoicesinsidethehouse.Iwhistletodrawtheirattention,butCleveland’sbackarchesandhistailpuffsup.
“Crap.”Whateverisinthetreehasthemtotallyentranced.
Thesoundofananimalscramblinginthetreeisfollowedbytherustleofbranches,andthensomethinglandsontherailingandskittersontothedeck.Clevelandyowlsandhisses,andBarnabybarks,whichscaresthebejesusoutoftheanimal—andme.
Asthecritterbumblestowardme,Irealizeit’saraccoon.Andnotjustanyraccoon,butababyone.Disoriented,itrunstowardtheslidingdoor.Idiveforit,butI’mwearingheels,andItripovermyownfeet,landingonthedeckinaheap.Clevelandisthesecondfour-leggedcreaturethroughthedoor.ImanagetosnagBarnaby’scollarbeforehecanlaunchhimselfafterthem.
Hisbarkgetscutoffabruptlyandhejerksback.Ifeelbad,butamurdersceneintheirverylovely,verylightgrayandnavylivingroomwouldcertainlygetmeuninvitedtofutureevents.
Shoutsandscreamscanbeheardfrominsidethehouse.Anddespitehowsmallheis,I’mstrugglingtokeepmyholdonBarnaby.
“CanIgetahand?”Ishout,butI’mnotsureIcanbeheardovertheruckusinsidethehouse.Parkernoticesmestrugglingwiththedogandcomestomyaid.
“Canyouholdhim?There’saraccoonlooseinthehouse!”
“Holyshit.Yeah.”
Hepicksupthesquirmingdog,andIslipinside,closingthedoortokeepthemoutsidesoBarnabycan’tjointhehuntingparty.Iglancearoundtheroom.Therearewomenindressesscreamingandguyswiththeirarmsheldwide.Someonehasalaundrybasket,andAustinhasapoolcue.
Iheadforthefray.
Butthechaseisn’tontheflooranymore.
Thebabyraccoonhasscaledthecurtainsandissittingontopoftherod,andClevelandhasjumpedontothesideboard.It’sclearhisplanistogettotheraccoonhoweverpossible.
Ipushmywaythroughthecrowd,assessinghowbesttocorraltheraccoonwhiledoingtheleastpotentialdamagetotheirbeautiful,veryexpensivelydecoratedhouse.
Miles,whoisattheedgeofthegroup,comesrushingover.“Whatareyoudoing?Thatraccooncouldberabid!”
“Icanhandlethis.I’llbefine.”Iglanceattheterrifiedraccoon,hissingdownatCleveland,whohissesrightsback.He’sscared,butnotdangerous.Still,Idon’twanttodealwitharaccoonbiteoranypotentialdiseases.
Isearchtheroomfortheguywiththelaundrybasketandtheonewiththepoolcue.Ineedtoactquickly,beforethisalreadybadsituationgetsworse.
“You!LaundrybasketguyandAustin,Ineedyourhelp.”IfeelbadthatIcan’trememberLaundryBasketGuy’sname,butthere’salotofpressure,sohopefullyhe’snotoffended.IturnbacktoMiles.“AndIneedyourcapeandaboost.”
“What’syourplan?”
“Justtrustme.”Ipullthetieonhiscape,thengrabontohisshoulders.“Ineedalift.”
Hedoesn’tquestionme,mayberealizingthereisn’tmuchtimebeforeClevelandgoesafterthemaskedintruder.
LaundryBasketGuyandAustinconvergeonus.“Milesisgoingtogivemeaboost.WhenI’mup,youpoketheraccoonwiththecue,Austin,andyou”—IpointtoLaundryBasketGuy—“holdthebasketunderme.I’mgoingtouseMiles’scapetogethimsafelyinthebasket.”
“Whatifitdoesn’twork?”Austinasks.
“Trustme,itwill,”IsaywithconvictionIdon’tfeel,butatleastIsoundconfident.Ifitdoesn’twork,I’mprobablynevergoingtobeabletoattendanotherpartywithMiles’steamagain.Butifitdoeswork,noonewillneedarabiesshotafterthis,anditwillmakeonehellofastory.
IgrabMilesbytheshoulders,andhemakesabridgewithhishands.Isetonefootintohispalmsandgriphisshoulderswhilehehoistsmeup.Theplasticnoseofhismaskpokesmeinthecrotch.Idon’thavetimetofocusonthefactthatmyladybusinessisinhisface,becausethemomentI’mintheair,Ireleasehisshouldersandgetthecapeready.Austingetsintoposition,andLaundryBasketGuydoesthesame.
“Pokehim!”Icallout.
Austinfollowstheorder,andwhentheraccoonjumps,Icoverhimwiththecape,wrappingitaroundhistiny,flailingbody.Milesmustnotexpectthesuddenmovement,becauseitsetshimoffbalance.Idropthecape-wrappedraccooninthelaundrybasket,whichsomeoneelsepromptlycoverswithapillowbeforeMilesandIgotumblingtothefloor
Hisnosestabsmeinthecrotch,andIrolltotheside,curlingintoaballandcuppingmygirlparts,asClevelandhurtlesoverme.There’saflurryofactivityandalotofyellingtousethesidedoorandnottheslidingoneasLaundryBasketGuyrushesacrosstheroomwithahissing,angry,andterrifiedraccoonbumpingaroundinthere.
“Kitty?Areyouokay?”Miles’sfaceappears.He’scrouchedonthefloorbesideme,hischeekagainstthehardwood,justlikemine.
“Yournosestabbedmeinthecrotch.”Iaccepthisofferedhandandstopprotectivelycuppingmyselfsincethere’sstillahugegroupofpartygoersstandingaroundusinasemicircle.
“I’msorry.I’doffertokissitbetterrightnow,butthatwouldbeawkwardwithallofthesepeoplewatching.”
Ichuckleandblush.
“Raincheck,though?”
“Absolutely.”
Ilethimpullmetomyfeet,andhisteammatesbreakintoaroundofapplauseandwhistling.Ibrushitoffasnobigdeal.I’mnotsuremostofthemrealizeitwasmewholettheraccoonintothehouseinthefirstplace.
Westayforawhilelonger,butoncetheadrenalinestartstoleavemybody,thefatiguethatcomeswiththismuchsocializing,plustheraccoondrama,setsin.I’menviousofthewayClevelandandBarnabyarecurleduptogetherinhisdogbedinthelivingroom,oblivioustotheparty.
MilesandIsayourgoodbyes,andwegetinhiscarandheadtohisapartment.
“I’msorryaboutyourcape.”Itendedupinthetrashsincetheraccoonpeedandpoopedalloverit.
“Don’tapologize.Itwasworthlosingacapetoseeyoubesuchabadass.Youtotallysavedtheday.”Hekissesmyknuckle.“Ican’twaittogetyoubacktomyplaceandoutofyourCatwomansuit.”
“Ormaybeweshouldleavethemon,”Isuggest,sortofjoking,sortofnot.
“Maybeweshould,”heagrees.
Wemakeitbacktohisplaceinrecordtime.chaptertwenty-threePAWS-ITIVELYPURRFECTKitty
AftertheHalloweenparty,mysocialmediaaccountsseeanotherspikeinnewfollowers.Beingtaggedbyabunchofprofessionalhockeyplayersandtheirsignificantothersisincrediblefreemarketing.Itdoesn’thurtthatsomeonetookavideoofmesavingtheraccoon.Thankfully,theycutthevideobeforeItookMilestothefloor.Andtheangledidn’tshowhisfacemashedintomycrotch.
Therealwaysseemstobeacounteractiontothepositivity,though.Alongwiththenewfollowerscomesabarrageofprivatemessagesandcomments—someofthemdisparaging.Igetcalledsomenastynames,andofcoursetherearehorriblejokesaboutmeofferingupmypersonalkittyservicestohockeyplayersnow.It’sdisgustingandmortifying.
It’stheWednesdayaftertheparty.ImeanttovisitKatonMonday,butmyschedulewassohectic,withcatvisitsandmanaging/deleting/monitoringthesocialmediastuff,thatIcouldn’tmakeitwork.IbringaloadofoldblanketsandtowelswithmetoKat’sCatCafé,andabunchofsponsoritemsasanapology.Ineedtogoovermycalendarforthemonthandplaceasupplyorder.KatandIusuallydothistogether,becausewegetabetterdiscountthatway.
“Hey,hey,myfamousfriend!IwasstartingtowonderifIwasevergoingtoseeyouagain.”Kat’stoneandexpressiontellmeshe’shurt.
“I’msorry.ThingskindofexplodedaftertheHalloweenpartyinawayIdidn’texpect,andI’vebeentryingtojugglealltheballsandputoutfires.”We’vemessagedsincetheraccoonvideocameout.ThemoreattentionIgetthesedays,themoreIseetheother,lessfriendlysideofsocialmedia.Asidefromthenastycommentsabouthockeyplayers,severalpeoplequestionedwhathappenedtothebabyraccoon.Iassuredmyfollowersthathewasreturnedtotheoutdoorsandhisfamily.I’mtryingtostayfocusedonthepositives.
Katwrinkleshernose.“Isawsomeofthosecommentsaboutplayingwithballs.”
Irollmyeyes.“Theydon’tevenmakesense.Hockeyhaspucks,notballs.”
“IsthissomekindofnewstrategytobuildyourbusinessthatIdon’tknowabout?”KatpicksupTux,whokeepsbumpinghisheadagainsthershin.
“Whatdoyoumean?”
Sheshrugs.“Idon’tknow.You’retakingcareofthatoneplayer’scat,andnowyou’realwayswiththatMilesguywhoworksfortheteam.”
“I’mtakingcareofParker’sgreat-grandfather’scat,andMiles’smom’scat.It’sahappycoincidencethatthey’reaffiliatedwiththesameteam.”
Katbitesherlip.“I’mnotsayingit’sabadthing.Justbecareful,okay?Youtendtofocusonthepositive,andthat’sgreat,butrememberwhereyoustartedandwhatyourgoalis.BeinginternetfamousbecauseyoulovecatsandnamedyourbusinesstheKittyWhispererisalotdifferentfrombeinginternetfamousforhangingoutwithhockeyplayers.”
Ipursemylips.“Yousoundlikeyou’redrinkingthecommentsKool-Aid.”
Sheholdsupahand.“I’msorry.Thatcameoutwrong.Ijustdon’twantyoutogethurt.You’reusedtocatloversfollowingyou,butthisisawholedifferentbreedofpeople.Ijustwantyoutostaytruetoyourvision.Gainingnewfollowersisamazing.Youjustwantthemtobeyourfollowersfortherightreasons.”
“Igetwhatyoumean,andI’llbecareful.”Idon’twanthertobeangrywithmeortofocusonallthenegativesrightnow.Iholdupthebag.“Ibroughtsomesupplies,allfreshlywashed.ShouldIputtheminthestockroom?”
“Yeah,soundsgood.”KatsetsTuxonthefloor.“Nowtellmeallaboutthepartyandexactlywhathappenedwiththatbabyraccoon.”
IfillKatinontheparty,andwemakeaplantohavedinnerthefollowingevening.Milesisawaywiththeteamforthenextfewdays,andwhileImisshim,it’snotallbad.ItmeansIcandedicatesometimetomyfriendsandmyfamily,whohaven’tbeengettingtheattentiontheydeservelately.
AlthoughI’venoticedthatmymom’sbeenmakingplanswithfriendsmoreoftenandnotstickingtotheroutinethatwe’vefollowedforthepastdecade.InsteadofwatchingthesameoldTVshows,I’llputonthegameintheeveningwhileItackleemails.Andifmymomcomeshomeinthemiddleofaperiod,she’lljoinme.
They’resmallthingsandlittlechanges,butitgivesmehopethatifshecanmoveforwardwithherlife,I’llbeabletodothesame.
It’sSaturdayevening,aweekaftertheHalloweenparty,andI’mstayingthenightatMiles’splace.It’sthefirsttimeI’veseenhimsincehereturnedfromtheawaygames,andwe’reorderinginbecauseIdon’twanttohavetowaittoclimbhimlikeatree.
AssoonasI’minthedoorwe’reoneachother.He’sstillwearinghissuit,andI’mdressedinapairofleggingsandacomfyoversizedsweater.Imanagetogethimoutofhisshirtwithoutpoppinganybuttonsoff.It’saloteasiertogetmenaked.
Wedon’tmakeitpastthelivingroomcouch.Wilfreddisappearsdownthehall,likelyintoMiles’sbedroom,embarrassedbyournudity.
Forty-fiveminutesandacoupleoforgasmslater,we’resittingonthecouch,eatingChinesetakeoutstraightfromthebox.Wilfredisstandingcloseby,givingussadeyes,clearlyhopefulthatwe’llmissourmouthsatsomepoint.
“Youknowwhatmightbegoodforyoursocial?”Mileshasbeenscrollingthroughtherecentposts.
Sincetheparty,I’vegainedevenmorefollowers,whichismostlygreat.Mysisterchecksthecommentsnow,soIdon’thavetoseethehurtfulthingspeopleliketosay.EventhoughI’mbacktopostingmynormalcatvideos,afewickyresponsesinevitablyshowuponmypostsandreels.
“What’sthat?”I’mwaryabouthisresponse.Milesisverypragmaticaboutsocialmediaandconsidersitatool,andsometimesanecessaryevil.
“VideoQ&As.”
“AnsweringquestionsaboutthekindsofservicesIoffertohockeyplayersdoesn’tsoundlikeagoodidea.”
Milessetshistakeoutcontaineronthecoffeetableandstretcheshisarmacrossthebackofthecouch.“Iwanttopuncheverydouchebagwho’smadeacommentaboutthat.WhatImeanis,therearealotofpeopleaskingvalidquestions,likehowyouknewwhattodowiththeraccoon.”
EverytimeIthinkaboutthat,Iimagineallthewaysitcouldhavegoneverywrong.“Iwasflyingbytheseatofmypants.Ijustdidn’twantthelittleguytodestroytheirhouse.Anditwasmyfaulthegotininthefirstplace.”
“Youcouldn’thaveknownthatwasgoingtohappen.Itwaswildlyunpredictable.Andyouweresuperbadass.Maybeyouwerewingingit,buttherewasintuitionatworkthere.Youhadsomeideawhatwouldbeeffective.Youneedtocutoutthenoise,Kitty.”
“Howdoyoumean?”
Milestapsthebackofthecouch.“It’slikewhenParkerhasakick-assgame,thefanscheerhimon,inthearenaandonsocialmedia.Butifhemissesone?Everyonehasanopinion,andsocialmediaiswheretheyshareit.Whenit’sgood,it’sgreat,butwhenit’sbad…itcanreallymesswithyourhead.”
Ipokeatmynoodles.“Butthejerkswillkeepcommentingnomatterwhat.”
“You’reright.Theywill.SowhenIsaycutoutthenoise,Kitty,Ijustmeancutoutthestuffthatdoesn’tmatter,andthat’sthenegativityandthedouchebags.WhenParkerhasabadgame,wepostvideosofhimworkingout,oratpractice,orevenathome,makingamealorhangingwithhisgreat-grandpaandthatfreakingcatwiththebuttons.Itmakeshimaperson,notjustaplayerwho’satthewhimofthefans.Combatthebullshitbydoingwhatyoudobest,sharingyourloveofanimalsandhowtocareforthem.”
Iblowoutabreath,feelingatightnessinmychest.He’sright.Ineedtobeproactive.“Justbeme.”
“Exactly.Youdon’tneedtobeanythingbutyourself.Andyou’reallowedtohangoutwithhockeyplayers.They’rethemostlaid-backsportsprofessionalsoutthere;atleastthat’showIfeel.Yourtruefollowersadoreyou,soifyoustartedasegmentwhereyouansweredtheirquestionsandallowedforinteraction,Ithinkyou’llhavelessoftheothernoise.Don’tfeedintoit.Iknowyoualreadyhavesomesponsorswhosendyouproducts,butwiththewayyou’regrowing,Ibetthere’sgoingtobeevenmoreinterest.”
“IhadtoturnawayafewpeoplethisweekbecauseIcan’ttakeonmoreclients,”Iadmit.“IthinkI’mgoingtohavetolookathiringsomeonetohelpme.ButthatmeansI’llneedtofindtimetointerviewandtrainpeople.AndthenI’dbemanagingthem,andI’llstillhavemydailycheck-inswithclients.It’salottothinkabout.”Addingtomyalreadyfullplatewilltakeawayfrommynewsociallife,andIdon’twantthat,either.It’satoughbalance.
“Iknowthisseemsdaunting,butwhengrowthhappensthisquickly,itforcesusintoaction.Ifyouhireevenonepersontostartpart-time,thenyouwon’tberunningeverythingonyourown.”
“I’lltalktoKat.Shemightknowsomeonewhoneedsapart-timecat-sittinggig.”
“Thatwouldbeagreatstart.Andwecanmakeafewofthosevideostonightifyouwant.Seeiftheycangiveyoubacksomeofthewarmfuzziesyougetfromyourfollowers.”
Overthenextfewweeks,IstartpostingregularQ&Avideos.Atfirstthenastycommentersshowup,butovertimetheydwindle.ApparentlythegossipovermyaffiliationwithParkerandtherestoftheNHLteamisnolongerexcitingenoughtoholdpeople’sattention.
AndKat,beingtheawesomefriendsheis,helpsmethroughthefirstfewweeksbytakingpartintheQ&AvideossoIdon’thavetodoitonmyown.WhatbeginsasawaytosupporteachotherturnsintoaweeklysegmentforKat’sCatCafé,whereweshowcaseoneofthecatsupforadoption.
I’mluckytohaveafriendlikeher,whostoodbymeevenwhenIwasbeingself-absorbed.Ourweeklysegmentsnotonlyshineabrightlightonhercafé,butalsogiveusachancetospendmoretimetogether.Andsmoothoutsomeoftheroughedgesthathavecomewithmetryingtobalanceanewrelationship,ourfriendship,andmygrowingbusiness
SinceKathasappearedintheQ&Asessions,morethanhalfthecatsupforadoptionatthecaféhavenewhomes—alotofthemtoNHLplayers—andshe’sbeenofferedherownsponsorshipopportunities.Ialsostartinterviewingforapart-timehelper,becauseMilesisright,Ican’tdoitonmyownanymore.
Petproductcompanieshavebeensendingmeeverythingfromcatbrushestotoystotreats.Ibarelyhavetimetokeepupwithmydailyroutinesandhomevisits,letalonemakesurethesamplesareproducedethically.It’sonlyafterthatthatI’llmakevideosofthecatsenjoyingthem.AndnowIhaveoneofthebiggerpetproductcompaniesofferingmebrandsponsorships.It’samazing,ifsomewhatoverwhelming.
Ontheupside,I’vebeenabletostopbuyingfoodandtoysalmostentirelybecausesomanysponsorshipsarecomingmyway.I’mveryconsciousthatmyfollowersarebigonthefactthatIengagewiththemonaregularbasis,soImakesurethevideosaren’taboutshovingnewproductsdownpeople’sthroats.Anditseemstobedrowningoutthenoise.
AfewweeksafterMiles’smommovesintothehome,webringPrinceFrancisforavisit.Iputhiminhiscarrier,eventhoughhewouldhappilyrideonmyshouldersandisn’tlikelytotrytorunaway.Butit’sthehome’srule,andIdon’twanttotakeanyrisks.
Ihaven’tseenTabithasincewemovedherintothehome,butit’sclearit’sbeenapositiveenvironmentforher.Shelooksgood,likeshe’sbeingwelltakencareof.HergazemovesfrommetoMiles,hereyeslightingupwhensheseesthecageinhishand.
Sheglancestotheright,whereawhiteboardhasthedailyactivitieswrittenonit,alongwithaspecialmessageinadifferent-coloreddryerasemarker:
Miles(oldestson)andKitty(girlfriend)arecomingtovisitandbringingPrinceFrancis.
“PrinceFrancis!Howismysweetboy?Comein.”Shestepsbackandmotionsusinside.
IgiveMiles’shandasqueezeandletitgosowecanwalkdowntheshort,narrowhall.Tabithareadsthewhiteboardonemoretimebeforeshefollowsus
Hesetsthecatcarrieronthecouchandturnstohismom.“I’mMiles,yourson.”
“Myoldest.”Shesaysitlikeshe’srecitingfacts.
“That’sright.AndthisisKitty,mygirlfriend.PrinceFrancishasbeenstayingwithhersinceyoumoved.”
Herattentionshiftstome.“Thankyoufortakingcareofhimforme.PrinceFrancisandMiles.”
Forsomereasonthosewordschokemeup.Maybeit’shersadsmile,orthesoftknowinginhereyesasshelooksbetweenus.
“It’sabsolutelymypleasure.ButIliketothinkwealltakecareofeachother.”
“That’showloveshouldbe.”Tabithaopensthecage,andPrinceFrancispokeshisheadout,peekingaroundbeforehedeemsitsafetocomeout.“Isn’tthisacutesweater!”IthasMOMMA’SBOYwrittenacrosstheback.Shepickshimupandnuzzleshim,andherubshisfaceonhercheek,thenlickstheedgeofherjaw.
“Imissedyoutoo,mysweet,sweetboy.Ihopeyou’renotgivingMissKittyanytrouble.”
“He’sbeengreat.He’sveryinterestedinthesquirrelsinourbackyard.Spendsalotofhisdayonthewindowsill,wishinghecouldjointhem,orusethemastoys.”
Tabithachuckles.“CanIgeteitherofyousomethingtodrink?Icanmaketeaandputoutsomecookies.”
“Whydon’tyouletmedothat,andyouandMilescansitandchat?”Isuggest.
“Thatwouldbegreat.Thankyou.”Mileskissesmytemple,andIsetaboutputtingthekettleonwhiletheygetcomfortableinthelivingroom.
PrinceFrancissettlesinherlapimmediately,andshestrokeshisbackandrubsunderhischinwhilesheandMilestalk.Sheshowshimherscheduleandhowshemarkseverytaskwhenit’sdone.Andthattherearealotofpeoplewhohavethesameproblemshedoes,sotheyunderstandwhatit’sliketobeforgetful.“Weputourcontactinformationineachother’sphoneswithourroomnumbersandapicturesowhenI’mhavingtroublerememberingsomeone,it’seasiertofindtheinformation.”
SheshowsMilesherphoneandhescrollsthroughhercontacts.“Thisisgreat.Who’sAllen,andwhydoeshehaveagoldstarbesidehisname?”
Tabithascrollsthroughhisinformation,readingittoMiles.“He’safriend.He’solderandawidower.Helosthissoninacaraccident.”There’sapauseandIlookovermyshoulder.Icanseethatshe’ssquintingatthescreen.“Ilostmysontoo.Toby.”
“That’sright,Mom.Whenhewaseight.”
“Andyou’reMiles.Myoldest.”
“Iam.”
Mychesttightensathissadsmile,andIhavetofightwithmyemotionstokeepthemincheck.He’ssopatientwithher,repeatingthesamethingwhensheloseshertrainofthought.Istaybusyinthekitchen,takingmytimewiththetea.EventuallyIjointheminthelivingroom,settingteaandbiscuitsonthecoffeetable.ItakethespotbesideMilesandadjustthepillows,whichiswhenInoticethecrochetedcatbesideit.Ipickitupandturnitover.ItlooksexactlylikePrinceFrancis.“Whomadethislittleguy?”
TabithakeepspettingPrinceFrancis.“Theyhaveallkindsofclasseshere.Oneofmyfriendsmadeitforme.”Shepauses,maybesearchingforaname,butshakesherheadandcontinues.“IusedtocrochetwhenIwasyounger,butIcan’trememberhowanymore.SheknowsI’vebeenmissingPrinceFrancis,soshemademeone.”
“I’llhavetobringhimbyforvisitsmoreoften.”IfeelbadthatIhaven’tbeenabletomakeitheresooner.Mileshasbeenvisitingregularly,though.
“Thatwouldbegreat.”Shescratchesbehindhisear.“Imisshiscompany.”
Afterwefinishourtea,Tabithaofferstotakeusonatourandintroduceustoallherfriends.
“ShouldweleavePrinceFrancishere?”Milesasks.
“Ihavehisharness,ifit’sokaywiththestaff.”
“Harness?”Miles’sbrowquirksup
“Yup,Ihaveaharnessandleashforhim.Istartedtrainingassoonashemovedinwithme,”Itellhim.
“Youmeanaharnessandaleash?Likeadog?”
“Basically,yes.”I’munsurprisedbyhissurprise.
Mostcatshavethesamereactiontoaharnessatfirst.Theyfalloverandlietheredejectedlyuntilsomeonetakesitoff.Butovertimetheygetusedtoit,andPrinceFrancishasbeengreataboutwearinghiswhenItakehimintotheyardtorunaround.Wehaveacatrunsetupbetweenthetreessohecanfrolicaroundandchaseaftertheannoyedsquirrelsandbirds.
“Whydon’tyouletmecheckwiththestaff.”
Milescallsthefrontdeskandgetsathumbs-up,soIgetPrinceFrancisready.Andjustlikeadogwould,hetrotsbesideustothecommonroom,wherewemeetTabitha’sfriends.PrinceFrancisstealstheshow,though,climbingintolapsandspreadinghiskittylove.
WithallthethingsputinplacetohelpTabitha,she’sdoingmuchbetter,anditgivesMilessomeassurancethathemadetherightdecision.Changeisnevereasy,butwithoutitwecan’tmoveforward.chaptertwenty-fourANABSOLUTECAT-ASTROPHEKitty
Overtheweeksthatfollow,MilesandIfinishcleaningouthismother’shouse.MorethanoncewedropeverythingandvacatethehousebecauseMileshasareaction.Theyhaven’tbeenassevereasthefirstone,butthatmightbebecauseassoonashesneezesorgetsatickleinhisthroat,we’reoutthedoor.He’sbeenformoretests,andthey’veruledoutalotofthings,buttheystillhaven’tgottentotherootofthecause.Sohehasyetanotherscratchtestappointmentinacoupleofweeks.
AndlastweekIhiredapart-timehelper.Itwashardatfirsttobringonsomeonenew,changebeingsomethingIdon’tusuallyinvite.I’vebeenalonecatforthepastthreeyears,runningeverythingonmyown,butMilesandKatareright:Ineededanextrasetofhandstomakeiteasiertojugglemyscheduleandmypersonallife.
SoIhireFancySummers,avettechstudentatthelocalcollege.Shehasyearsofsheltervolunteerexperience,andherfamilyhasafarmwithhalfadozenbarncats,threegoats,twodogs,andanowl.Ihavehertrainedinnotime.Andshe’sincrediblyorganized,whichhasbeenamazing.Italsomeansthatonweekends,whichiswhenIstackherhours,IcanstayatMiles’splacewithoutworryingabouthavingtogetbacktotownthefollowingmorning.
It’sSaturday,andMileshadtoduckoutearlytomeetupwithParkerandAustinbeforepractice.Histeamhasagametomorrownight,sothey’regoingtogothroughtheotherteam’srecentstats.Thestresshewasfeelingatthebeginningoftheseasonhasbeguntowane,particularlysincehe’sorganicallybecomeabitofamentorforParkerandAustin.
Whenmydadwasalive,Iwouldsometimessitandwatchhockeywithhim.UsuallyI’dbereadingabookatthesametime,ordoingmindlesshomeworkthatdidn’trequirealotofattention.NowIfindmyselfenthralled,listeningintentlyasMilesnerdsoutaboutplayerandteamstats.Whenhe’sdone,I’llattackhimwithmylips,andotherbodyparts
Thismorningheleftanoteonhispillow—whichWilfreddrooledon—lettingmeknowthathe’llbehomebetweentenandeleven.Irolloutofbedateightandpadtothekitchen,WilfredandPrinceFrancistrottingafterme.
Twoweeksago,IbroughtPrinceFranciswithmeforasleepover.WewantedtoseeifheandWilfredcouldbefriends.Andalsomakesurehewouldn’tsendMilesbacktothehospital.IwasnervousthatWilfredmightwanttousePrinceFrancisasachewtoy,butitturnsoutallmyworrywasfornothing.
Wilfreddidn’tevenbarkonce.Allittookwasfifteenminutesandonenoseswatforthemtodecidetheywouldbebetterfriendsthanenemies.Sincethen,they’vebecomethebestoffriends.UnlessWilfredtriestoeatPrinceFrancis’sfood—thenhegetsaboponthenosetoremindhimthathe’snotthekingofthecastlewhenPrinceFrancisisaround.
Ifeedthemandmakemyselftoastandcoffee.Theysitsidebysideatmyright,Wilfred’stailwaggingwhileherestshischinonmylegandgivesmehispuppy-dogeyes.PrinceFrancislicksbetweenhistoebeans.
WhenWilfredrealizesIdon’tplantosharemytoast,hetrotsoffandreturnsaminutelaterwithhisleash.Hedropsitatmyfeet.
“Wouldyoutwoliketogoforawalkinthepark?”
Wilfredbarksonceanddoesaquickspin.Thenhepicksuptheleashagainanddropsitinmylap.Ilaughandscratchbehindhisear.“That’sayesthen,huh,Wilfred?Letmegetreadyandwe’llgo.”
Winterisclosingin,bringingwithitcoolertemperatures,soIdressPrinceFrancisinathicksweaterbeforeIputonhisharness.It’snothisfavoriteclothingcombination,buthelovesthewalksinthepark,sohe’llsufferthroughit.Iputonmywinterjacket,clipWilfred’sleashtohiscollar,snapaquickpicofthetwoofthem,andpostitonsocialmedia,andthenwe’reofftotheelevators.
Westopafewtimesonthedescent.OnewomandoesadoubletakewhensheseesPrinceFrancis,thenwhisperssomethingIdon’tcatchtoherboyfriend.Theygiggle.Iignorethem.I’musedtothecuriouslooksandwhispersIgetwhenpeoplerealizethatI’mwalkingnotonlyadogbutalsoacat.
WegrabacookiefromtheWoofableTreatsCaféforWilfredsohecansayhellotohisfriendsthere.PrinceFrancistakesupresidenceonmyshoulderswhilewe’reatthedoggycafé,feelingsaferfromahighperchuntilwe’rebackonthestreet.NextwestopattheCat-tasticCaféforPrinceFrancis.Wilfredwaitsoutside,staringdejectedlythroughthewindowwhilehisnewbestbuddymingleswithhisfelinefriends.
Wedon’tstayforlong,andthenwe’reonourwaytothepark.Asusual,Igetafewcuriouslooks.Ismileandignorethepeoplewhodon’tgetit,cuttingoutthenoiselikeMilesalwaystellsmeto.
Wepassregularparkgoers,whostopandsayhello,givingbothWilfredandPrinceFrancispetsandgreetings.Wilfredsniffseverythinghepasses,stoppingoccasionallytolifthislegandleaveareminderthathewashere,too.Wheneverthishappens,PrinceFranciswillplunkhisbuttdownnearmyfootandgroomhimself.
Ispotagroupofteenageboysskateboardingalongthepath,doingjumpsandspins,weavinginandoutofdogwalkers,scaringsomeofthesmallerdogs.BeforeIhaveachancetomoveoffthepathandgetabettergriponWilfred’sleash,theywhirltowardus.Atthesametime,agaggleofgeese,whohavepresumablyalsobeenfrightenedbytheskateboarders,comeweeble-wobblerunningacrosstheparkabouttwenty-fivefeetaway.
It’stheperfectstorm.
Theskateboarderspassby,onlyinchesfromus,causingPrinceFrancistojumpandscalemyleg,hissharpnailsdiggingintomyskin.TheshockofpainmakesmelosemyholdonWilfred,wholungesattheskateboarders.Igrabforhimbuttripoveranunevencrackinthesidewalk.Insteadofhugginghimaroundthechest,IfallontopofpoorWilfred.Myhandconnectswiththesideofhishead,andatthesametime,I’mprettysureIelbowPrinceFrancis.
Thecombinationoftheskateboarders,thegeese,andthesurpriseofmefallingonhimhasWilfredyelpinginwhatsoundslikeshockandpain.Ipushupandtrytorolltothesidewhileblindlysearchingforhisleash.HeheadbuttsmeinthefaceasIgrabhiscollar,whichsendsmyglassesflying.PrinceFrancis,whoisstillclingingtomyside,hurtleshimselfoffmeandlandsonWilfred’sback.Someoneyellsatmetostophurtingmydog.I’mtoobusytryingtogetmyfeetbackundermeandkeepmyholdonWilfredandPrinceFrancistobotherresponding.
Wilfredyelpsagainandlurchesforward,makingahorriblegaggingsoundbecauseI’mgrippinghiscollar.Hedragsusintothemiddleofthegaggleofangrygeese.Theyhissandsnap,andPrinceFrancisarchesandhissesinreturn,swattingatthelividgeese,whohavesurroundedus.WilfredtriestobuckPrinceFrancisoffwhileIattempttoshootheangrygeeseaway.Intheprocess,IlosemyholdonWilfred’scollar.Allwithoutmyglasses.WhichisthemomentoneofthegeesenipsWilfred’stail.Andthenhe’soff,barkingashebuststhroughthegaggleandracesthroughthegrass.
PrinceFrancisholdsonuntiltheyrunbyatree,andthenhefliesthroughtheairlikehe’schannelinghisinnerSpider-Manandlandsonthetrunkofthetree.Hescalesthesideandperchesonabranch,sendingafewsquirrelsdownontheway.Theychattertheirdispleasureandbounceoff.
“Wilfred!Stop!”Ishout,chasingafterhimashecontinuestorun,nearlyknockingoveratoddlerbumblingbetweenhisparents.I’mthankfulhedidn’ttrytouseoneofthegeeseasachewtoy.EventuallyWilfredmustnoticethathenolongerhasapassenger,atwhichpointherunsincircles,barkinganxiously,lookingforhisfour-leggedbestie.
Ifinallymanagetogethimtolisten,andhereturnstome,headdownandeyesallsad,becausehethinkshe’sintrouble.
“It’sokay,Wilfred.Itwasn’tyourfault.”Igrabhisleashandgivehimascratchbehindtheear,thankfulhe’snolongerrunningaroundtheparklikeamenace,scaringsmallchildren.Icheckhistailandmakesurehe’snotinjuredbeforeIgentlytughiminthedirectionofthetree.“Comeon,let’sgetPrinceFrancis.”
Asweapproachthetree,IrealizeI’vegarneredalotofattentionandthattheskateboardersarenolongerweavingthroughthedogwalkersandmorningstrollers.Instead,they’regatheredwiththeirphonesintheirhands.Ishootthemalookandthengobacktoignoringthem.
Iwanttogetoutofhere,butfirstIneedtoretrievePrinceFrancis.Icatchafewcommentsaboutnottakingyourpetoutinpublicifyoucan’tcontrolthem.Anotherwomanmakesacommentaboutbadpetowners.IhearsomeonementiontheKittyWhisperer,andIwanttohurl.
ItrytomaintainmycomposurewhileIattempttolurePrinceFrancisdownwithtreats,andWilfredtriestoappealtohimbybarkingandwhining.ButPrinceFrancisrefusestobudgefromhissafeperchmorethanfifteenfeetaboveus.There’snowayformetogettohim.AndthelongerIstandhere,tryingtocajolehimoutofthetree,themorepeoplestoptowatch.Afewattempttohelp,butit’sprovingfutile,andIhaveafeelingthecrowdismakingPrinceFrancislesslikelytomakethedescent.Ipolitelyaskiftheycangiveussomespace,andafewpeoplecomply,butitdoesn’tseemtomakeadifference.
EventuallyIgiveupandcallthefiredepartment.Whichgainsevenmoreattention.Mymortificationlevelsareatanall-timehigh.Fallingupthestairsonthefirstdayofhighschoolhasnothingontheenormousgroupofpeoplegatheredaroundthetreewhilethreefirefightersapproach,carryingaladder.They’redressedinfullfirefightergear,andthetrucksitsdirectlyinfrontoftheparkentrance,lightsflashingaway.
Istillhaven’tbeenabletorecovermyglasses,andI’malmostgratefulthatanyonemorethantwentyfeetawayhasablurryface.I’mdressedinawintercoatandahatwithcatears.Ididn’tbotherwithmakeup,assumingthiswouldbeaquickstrollaroundthepark,whereWilfredwouldwatchthesquirrelsandPrinceFranciswouldwishforwingssohecouldcatchbirds.
Assoonasthefirefighterreachesme,Iapologize.“I’msosorry.Ididn’twanttocallyou.Iknowyouhavemuchbetterthingstodowithyourtime,likefightingactualfiresandsavingpeople,butmycatisstuckinthattree,andIthinkthishordeofhumansisgivinghimclimbingfright,likethecatequivalentofstagefright.”IpointtothebranchwherePrinceFrancisislounging.
He’srepositionedhimself.He’snowlyingonthebranch,hislegshangingoneithersideofit.Hedoesnotlooktheleastbitstressedbytheaudience
“Isthatcatwearingaleash?”thefirefighterasks.
IclaspmyhandssoIwon’tfidget.“Heis.Catsareverytrainable.Andtheylovewalksifyoucangetthemcomfortablewiththeleashandharness.”
“Bernick,youwanttodothehonors?”Oneoftheotherfire-fightersclapsahandonhisteammate’sshoulder.HegivesmeacurtnodandturnstoBernick,butthenhisgazeslidesbacktome.“Holycrap.You’reKitty,theKittyWhisperer.Dude—”HenudgesBernickwithhiselbowandrepeats.“ThisisKitty,theKittyWhisperer.”
Bernickgiveshimaquestioninglook,thenmutters,“Don’tadvertiseyourpornwatchinghabitsinapublicparkwithahundredpeoplestandingaround,Hopkins.”
Hopkinsrollshiseyes.“She’sacatwhisperer,youdirtbag.Shetrainscats.Sorry,ma’am.Mypartnerherelivesinagutterapparently.”
“It’sokay.Igetthatalot.IshouldhavetakenitintoaccountwhenInamedmybusiness,butitdidn’toccurtomeuntilafterIstartedgettinginappropriatemessages,andbythattimeIalreadyhadanestablishedfollowing.”Nooneneededthatexplanation,butapparentlyIhaven’tsustainedenoughembarrassmenttoday,soIaddedtoitmyself.
Henodsacoupleoftimes.Thethirdfirefightersetstheladderagainstthetree.“Oneofyouwanttostopwiththeflirtingandholdtheladder?”
“We’llberightback,MissKitty.”Bernicktouchesthebrimofhisfirehatandinclineshishead.
“Wait!Here!”Ipullabaggieoftreatsoutofmypocketandpassittohim.“Thesemighthelp.”
IwaitwithWilfredwhilethethirdfirefighterholdstheladderforBernick.PrinceFrancisisclearlywary,andhehissesandswatsatBernickuntilhepullsoutthetreats.It’stoomuchofanenticement,andPrinceFrancisfinallyrelents.Assoonashe’sinmyarms,heclimbsontomyshouldersandburrowshiswayundermyhair,thensettlesintohislivingstoleposition,mostofhimhiddenundermycurtainofhair.
IwanttoleaveassoonasIhavePrinceFrancis,butBernickasksforapicture,andmyautograph,whichisalittleweird,especiallywhenhehasmesignhisson’ssecondgradewalletphoto
Finally,wecanleave.Idon’tmakeanystopsonthewaybacktoMiles’sapartment.Ikeepmyheaddown,butIswearpeoplearewhisperingandglaringasIpass.IconvincemyselfthatI’mbeingparanoid.
ButwhenIgetbacktoMiles’splace,Imakethefatalmistakeofcheckingmymessages.IhaveonefromMilestellingmehe’sonhiswayhome.Basedonthetimeitwassent,heshouldbearrivinganyminute.IalsohavemessagesfromKatandmysister.Ontopofthat,Ihavecountlesstagsandnotificationsonallmysocialmediaaccounts.Whileit’snotuncommonformetohavealotofnotifications,thenumberisexceptionallyhigh,andeveryfewsecondsmyphonelightsupwithmorenotifications.I’mafraidofwhatthismeans.It’sclearpeoplewerefilmingandtakingpicturesofwhathappenedatthepark.
Idon’thaveachancetocheckthemessagesfrommysisterandKat,becauseMileswalksthroughthedoor.“Hello,beautifulgirlfriend!Wouldyouliketogetnakedfirstandthengoforbreakfast,orwouldyouliketofuelupandthengetnaked?”
Hefindsmesittingonthecouch.“Maybeweshouldmakebreakfasthere,”Isuggest.
Idon’thavemuchofanappetite,andI’mnotallthatinterestedingoingoutinpublic.Imayneverbeagain.
“Iseverythingokay?”Milesgrabsthebackofthecouchandbendstopressakisstomycheek.
“Iguessitdependsonyourdefinitionofokay.”
Heroundsthearmofthecouch,movesPrinceFrancisfromthecushionbesidemetomylap,andsitsdownbesideme.“What’sgoingon?”
IexplainwhathappenedthismorningwhileIwastakingourfour-leggedfriendsonwhatwassupposedtobeanice,uneventfulwalk.
“Oh,Kitty,I’msosorry.Thatmusthavebeenawful.Butit’sfinenow.”
“Idon’tknowifitis,though.CanyoucheckmysocialmediaaccountandtellmeiftherearefiresIneedtoputout?”Ipasshimmyphone,toonervoustodoitmyself.
“I’llcheckInstagramfirst,okay?”
InodandpetPrinceFrancis,hopingthatI’mbeingparanoidandeverythingisgoingtobeokay.ButMiles’sexpressiontellsmealotofthings.Likemyself-reassurancesarepotentiallyincorrect.Hiseyebrowsdoseveralbouncesupanddown.Hislipsflatteninaline.Soundblaresoutofthephone.It’smyvoice,mecallingoutstop,followedbyahigh-pitchedyelp.ItmustbearecordingofwhenIfellonWilfred.Milesturnsoffthevolume.
“It’sbad,isn’tit?”
“It’llbefine.”
“Thewayyoureyeballskeepdartingaroundlikeyou’refollowingalightlasertellsmethatisacompletelie.”
Milessetsthephonefacedownonthetable.“Thereareacoupleofvideosthatarebeingtakenoutofcontext.Andsomegifs.”
“Avideo?Somegifs?”Iecho.
Heswallowsthickly.“Andatrendinghashtag.”
“Ohmygosh.”Isinkintothecushion,wishingthecouchwouldopenlikeamouthandswallowmewhole.
“It’llbefine,Kitty.Oncepeopleunderstandthatyouweren’ttryingtohurtWilfred.”
“PeoplethinkIwastryingtohurthim?”Myvoiceisshrill.“Whatkindofvideoisit?”
Milestugsonhisbottomlipwithhisteethacoupleoftimes.“Thisstuffchangesbythehour.Bytomorroweveryonewillhaveforgottenaboutit.”
“IthinkIneedtoseethevideo.”
Milesblowsoutabreathandreluctantlyhandsmemyphoneoncethevideoiscuedup.It’snotlong,maybetenseconds,butitlookslikeI’mtacklingWilfred,andtheanglealsomakesitlooklikeIpunchedhiminthesideoftheface.AndthatIputhiminachokehold.Thevideoonitsownisbadenough,butit’sthecommentsthatmakemystomachroll.
“OhmyGod,Miles.Peoplearecallingmeananimalabuser.”Icovermymouthwithmyhandasmyeyeswellwithtears.AndIscrollthroughthevideosandgifs,allwithmetacklingWilfred,someofthemwithtextonthemcallingonpeopletocancelme.“Thethingspeoplearesaying.”
“It’soutofcontext.We’llfixthis.Youcanputupavideoexplainingwhathappenedanddispeltherumors.Comehere.”Heopenshisarms.Ifthecouchwon’tswallowme,IguessaMileshugwillhavetodo.
PrinceFrancishopsoffmylapasIslideoverandallowMilestowrapmeinhisarms.Iwanthimtoberight,thatwe’llbeabletofixthis,butthere’sanuneasyfeelinginmygutthattellsmehemightbewrong.chaptertwenty-fiveTHECAT’SOUTOFTHEBAGMiles
MyteamhasagameonSundaynight,andwhileKittyhasanopeninvitationtoattend,shemakesupanexcuseaboutneedingtobehome.Idon’tcallheroutonit.Iknowshe’supsetaboutwhathappenedatthepark.
IaccompanyherandPrinceFrancistotheparkinggarage.Onthewaydown,threepeopleavoidgettingontheelevator,sayingthey’llwaitforthenextone,andsomeoneelseasksifshe’stheonewhopunchedagooseatthepark.Apparently,thestoryhasmorphedquitespectacularlysinceyesterdayafternoon.
Itgetsworsewhenwereachhercar.SomeonehasspraypaintedahugeXacrossthesideofhercar.
“Ohmygosh,Miles.”Kitty,whowasalreadylookinglikeadeflatedballoonaftertheelevatorincident,seemstoshrinkevenfurther.Ifshewereacartoon,shewouldbeapuddleonthegroundwithaverysadface.“Whyisthishappening?HowamIgoingtofixthis?”Shemotionstotheredspraypaint.
Iwrapmyarmaroundhershoulder.“Whydon’tyoutakemycar?Iknowaguywhocangetthistakencareoflikethat.”IsnapmyfingersandPrinceFrancis,whoiswrappedaroundhershoulders,triestobitethem.
“Ican’ttakeyourcar.Thenyouhavetodrivethis.”Shemotionstoherdefacedvehicle.
“I’llbefine.TaketheTesla.I’llgetthishandledsoyoudon’thavetoworryaboutit.”ItakethekeystotheCat-mobileandpasshertheonestomycar.
“You’resure?”
“Paws-itivelypositive.”Istrokehercheek,andshegivesmeaweaksmile.
“Thankyou.”Herchintrembles,asignshe’sonthevergeoftearsagain
“Anythingforyou.”Ikissherandpullherinforahug,wishingIcoulderasethevideosandfindawaytohelpherdrownoutthenoise.
Joshgetsoutofhissportscar,hisexpressionslackwithdisbelief.“Dude.Whyareyoudrivingthecatcar?”Hegetsaloadofthegraffitionthepassengerside.“Ohshit.”
“Yeah.Ohshitisright.”Igotalotmorethanjustlooksfrompeople.Someonethrewwhatwaslikelyanexpensivelatteatthecar,severalpeopleflippedmethebird,andsomeoneelsetossedaburritoonthewindshield.Iputthewipersonandendedupsmearingguacallovertheplace;IhadtopulloverbecauseIcouldn’tsee.There’sstillachunkoftomatostuckunderthewiperblade.
“Isthisbecauseofthatvideo?”Joshrubsthebackofhisneck.
“Yeah.ItoldKittyIcouldgetthecarfixed.I’mhopingoneoftheguyscanrefermetosomeonewhocanmakeanot-liaroutofme.”
“Youmustreallybeintoherifyou’rewillingtodrivearoundinthisthing.I’mguessingthatmeansshehasyourTesla.”
“You’rerightonbothcounts.Ifeelhorribleforher.Therearesomanyfreakingpeoplejustgobblingthisshitup.”Irunahandthroughmyhairandsigh.IhatethatI’mvery,verywrongabouteveryoneforgettingthevideo.#kittywhispereranimalabuseristhenumberonetrendinghashtagtoday.
“Oneoftheguyswillknowsomeone.”Heclapsmeontheshoulder.“Andmaybewecanfindawaytomakesomethinggoodoutofthisshitsituation.”
“Youdidn’tseeherthismorning.Shelookslikesomeonerippedtheheadoffherfavoritestuffedanimal.She’sbeensuchahugesourceofsupportformewhileI’vebeenfiguringoutallthestuffwithmymom.Ireallyhatetoseeherlikethis.Ijustwanttomakeitbetter,butIdon’tknowhow.”KittyhasbeentakingPrinceFrancistovisitmymomatleastonceaweek,ifnottwice.I’vebeentryingtodothesame.It’snotaconventionalrelationship,butsomedaysshehasperiodsoflucidityandwetalkaboutmychildhoodandToby.ItmightbehelpingherrememberI’mmemoreoften.Ormaybethat’swishfulthinkingonmypart.Eitherway,it’sgoodforus.
ButnowKittyishurting,andIdon’tknowwhatIcandotohelpmakeitbetter.
WeheadintothearenatomeetwithCoachDavisandtheplayers.Andofcourse,becausealotofthoseguysarecompletelydialedintosocialmedia,almosteveryoneknowsaboutwhathappenedattheparkyesterday.
Iexplainhowitwentdown,andthatshetrippedanddidn’tmeantotackleWilfredorhithim.
“Peopleareassholes.”Parkershakeshisheadashescrollsthroughthememes—thosearenew—gifs,andvideosthathavefloodedtheinternet.
“Don’tIknowit,”Igrumble.
“Holdon.Haveyouseenthis?”Parkerholdshisphonetwoinchesfrommyface.
Ipushhishandbackuntiltheimagecomesintofocus.Thengrabitoutofhishand.“Holyhell.IsthatBritSheers?Theactress?”
“Itsureis.Anditlookslikeshe’sdefendingKitty.”
Iturnthevolumeuponthevideo.
“AnyonewhofollowsKittyHartknowsshehasalegitimateheartofgoldandwouldn’thurtafly.Idon’tcarewhatitlookslike.Thatvideoclipistakenoutofcontext.Idarethepersonwhopostedittoputupthewholethinginsteadofthepiecethatturnsapersonwhopoursherwholeheartintotakingcareofanimalsintoanabuser.”
BritSheersoftenmakessomewhatcontroversialandpoliticalstatements.Butshe’salsoveryinvolvedinseveralcharityorganizationsandisparticularlypassionateaboutanimalsandspeakingoutaboutanimalcruelty.She’sthefounderofAHomeforHoney,anot-for-profitanimalshelterthatfocusesonrehomingabusedorneglectedpets,oranimalswithhighneeds.
SittinginherlapisHoney,ablondtabbythatBritfoundinagarbagecanonhermorningruntwoyearsago.Honeyhasararecongenitalbirthdefectthatmakesitdifficultforhertogetaroundandalsomakesherlooklikesheranintoawall.She’sadorable,andhersocialmediafollowingisunreal.
“Youshouldreachouttoher,”Parkersuggests.“MaybeshecangiveKittysomepositivepressandhelpburyallthisothercrap.”
“Yeah,maybeIshould.”Idon’tknowwhatI’llsay,orwhetheramessagefrommewillgetseenbyher,butit’sworthashot.Anythingtohelprightthiswrong.
Isendheraprivatemessage,introducingmyselfastheboyfriendoftheKittyWhisperer,askingifshe’dbeinterestedinmeetingKittyinperson.AndthenIwait.
Overthedaysthatfollow,Kittyseemstofoldinonherself.Itgetsworsewhenshelosesacoupleofnewclientswhotellhertheycan’triskleavingtheiranimalsinthecareofsomeonewhoabusesanimals.
ImanagetogetthegiantredXremovedfromthepassengersidedoor,butshe’sstillmortifiedbywhathappened,andnomatterhowmanynewvideosshepoststoexplainwhathappenedinthepark,thebacklashandthenegativityburyanythingpositivesheputsoutthere.Shenearlyhasapanicattackeverytimesheleavesthehouse,andtherehavebeenafewtimeswhenpeoplehaveyelledatherandcalledhernames.She’stakentowearingsunglassesandanoversizedhattohideheridentity.Andsherefusestodrivehercar.
It’sthemiddleoftheweekandwe’reatmyplace,snuggledonthecouchwatchinghockey.Kittyisdressedinapairofjeansandoneofmysweatshirts.“Idon’tknowhowthoseguysdoit.”SheflingsahandtowardtheTV,thenletsitdroptoherlap.
“Dowhat?”
“Handlealltheopinionspeoplelovetoshare.IcoulddealwiththejokesandtheoccasionalpokingfunatmeforwhatIdo,andbecauseInamedmycompanytheKittyWhisperer.Icouldlaughitoffthen,becausetherewasbalance,andmostofthetimemyfollowerswouldcometomydefense,butthisisn’tthesame.It’sjustcrappiledontopofcrap.Everytimesomeonetriestodefendme,theybecomeatarget.It’sawful.Ican’tescapeit.I’veneverbeenembarrassedtobecalledacatlady,butthisissodifferent.Peoplearen’tevenwillingtolisten.Theyjustattack.Andthentoseeallthesepeoplewhowereonceonmysidedefectingoverthisonevideo,anditisn’tevenaccurate.”Tearsspillover,andshepullsatissueoutofthesleeveofthehoodietodabathereyes.
Iputmyarmaroundherandkisshertemple,atalossforwhattosay.IgotaresponsefromBrit’ssocialmedia,butitwasastockreplythankingmeforthemessageandsayingBritappreciatesmyloveandsupportandtokeepsmiling.Isentanemailandgotanothercannedreply.Ievencommentedonafewofherrecentposts,citingwhoIwasandthatI’dmessagedherprivately.Thosemessagesgotalotofattentionfromherfans,mostofitpositive,butsomeofitjustasnegativeasthestuffKittyisdealingwith.
“I’msorrythisissohard,Kitty.IwishIcouldscrubtheinternetforyou.Icouldtellyoutoignorethehatersandshutoutthenoise,butIknowit’simpossiblebecausethey’reinyourface.Thepeoplewhotrulyknowyousupportyou.”
“I’mlosingbusinessoverthis.Ican’tgoanywherewithoutbeingrecognized.IthinkIneedtotradeinmycar.”
“Youcankeepdrivingmineuntilthisalldiesdown,”Itellher.
Shegivesmeasmallsmile,buthereyesbrimwithtears.“Iappreciatetheoffer,butIknowyoumustbegettingheckledfordrivingit.Icansellitasisandgetsomethingused.”
UpuntilSaturday,Kitty’sbusinesshadbeengrowingsteadily,andnowtheoppositeishappening.“Maybegiveitanotherweekbeforeyoumakeanyfinaldecisionsaboutthat,okay?”
Shesighs.“Okay.Icanwaitaweek.ButIdon’tthinkanythingisgoingtochangehowIfeel.”
Itipherchinupandkisshersoftly.Whenshedoesn’tpullaway,Ideepenit.IfIcan’tfixherproblems,Icanatleasttakehermindoffthem.
ThenextnightI’msittinginthearena,Joshonmyright,bothofusfollowingtheplayersontheice.Ikeepaneyeontheopposition,lookingforpatternssowecangaintheadvantageandkeeppossessionofthepuck.
Theseattomyrightisemptyandoftenreservedforthefamilymembersoftheplayerswhocometowatchthemplay.AfewminutesbeforetheendofthefirstperiodTeresa,Beavin’swife,dropsintothechairbesidemine.
“Hey.”Itipmychinupandfocusmygazebackontheice.
“They’redoinggoodtonight,”sheobserves.
“Theyare.”Parkerhasreallyblossomedthisseason,andsohasAustin.Parkerisanaturallygiftedplayerandonlyatthebeginningofhiscareer.Oncesomethingispointedout,he’squicktouseittohisadvantage.It’sbeengoodtoseepositiveresultsandtohaveCoachDavisandtheGMbackingmyrolewiththeteam.
Teresaknowsthatmyjobistowatchthegameandassesstheplaysandtheplayers,soshewaitsuntiltheperiodisoverbeforeshesaysanythingelse.I’vebeenmetwithalotofchagrinandpityoverthepastweek.That’snotwhatIgetwithTeresa,though.
“Howareyou,andhowisKitty?”Shecrossesonelegovertheother.
“I’mokay.Kittyis…struggling.”
Shenodsknowingly.“Publicopinioncanbetoughtohandle.Didthevideosshepostedexplainingwhatreallyhappenedmakeanydifference?”
Ishakemyhead.“There’sjustsomuchnegativity,andit’ssuckingthejoyoutofher.”
“Igetit.Peoplelovetotakethingsoutofcontextandmakethemintosomethingthey’renot.It’sannoyinglyscandalousforawomanwhoisacatlovertopunchadog.”Sheshakesherhead.“It’sfrustratingthatthereisn’tavideoouttherethatshowstheentirethingsoshecandispeltherumors.”
“Iknow.I’vebeenscouringthesites,butIhaven’tbeenabletofindanythingtobalanceoutthecrappystuff.AndthenIjustgetangryaboutthethingspeoplearesaying.”
Shepatsmeontheshoulder.“Peopleareassholes.Theylovetotearpeopledown.Andthere’saweirdbeliefthatpublicfiguresdon’thavefeelings,orthattheirfeelingsaremadeofTeflonandthattheycanhandleridiculeandbeingputunderamicroscopebetterthantheaverageperson.”
“Thisisverytrue,”Iagree.Iseeitallthetimewithplayers.They’reheldtoadifferentstandard.Andwhentheymakeamistake,onorofftheice,everyonehassomethingtosayaboutit.“Idon’tthinkKittyseesherselfasapublicfigure,butIguesssheis,isn’tshe?”
I’mofteninthebackgroundofteampicturesandvideos,butnooneeversinglesmeout.MydoghasmorefollowersthanIdo.
“Ohyeah,she’stotallyapublicfigurenow,andacelebrityinthecat-osphere.BritSheershasbeentalkingaboutitforthepastweek.”
“Itriedtoreachouttoher,thinkingmaybeifKittygotamessagefromherorsomethingthatitmightboosthermorale,butIdon’tthinkshemanagesherownsocialmedia.”
“Ihavehernumber.Icanreachoutifyouwant,”Teresaoffers.
“Seriously?Evenifshejustgotamessageoranemail,oranythingreally.Thatwouldbefantastic.Idon’tknowhowtomakethisbetter,andit’skillingmeseeingKittysodown.She’salwaysarayofsunshine,youknow?It’slikeahugeblackcloudishangingoverherhead.”
“Itotallygetit.I’vemessagedKittyafewtimesaskingifshewantstogettogetherwithmeandthegirls,butshesaidshe’sbusy.Ididn’twanttopush,”Teresasayssympathetically.“I’llmessageBritnow.Sheusuallyrecordsherepisodesintheafternoon,sohopefullyI’llhearbackfromherbeforetheendofthegame.”
Periodtwobegins,soIfocusmyattentionontheice.Halfwaythrough,Teresagetsuptotakeaphonecall.Shecomesbackastheperiodends,wearingahugesmile.
“ItalkedtoBrit.ShewantstoknowifKittywouldbeopentodoingaliveinterview.She’sahugefan.”
“Seriously?”
“Superseriously.She’soutragedbywhat’shappeningtoher.Igaveheryourcontactinformation.She’ssupposedtobeflyingoutthiswaynextweektovisitashelter,andshethinksthiswouldbeagreatwaytohelpsmooththingsoverforKittyandgiveherthepositivepressshedeserves.”
Andjustlikethat,thesunpeeksthroughtheclouds.chaptertwenty-sixPURRFECTLYPAWSITIVEPEOPLEKitty
Where’syourcar?”Istopinthemiddleofmydriveway,notingthedistinctabsenceofMiles’sTesla.
Hestuffshishandinhispocketandrocksbackonhisheels.“Ileftitathome.”
“Why?Howdidyougethere?”
“IUbered.Doyouhaveyourkeys,ordoyouneedtogobackinandgetthem?”Hepullsonhistie.Hiseyesdartfrommetomycarandbackagain.
“Idon’twanttodrivethatthing.”Isneeratmycarasifit’sthereasonforallmyproblems,notastupidviralvideo.
“ThenIcandrive.”
“Letmerephrasethat.Idon’twanttobeseeninthatcar,regardlessofwhatseatI’min.”Ihaven’tdrivenitsincetheparkfiasco.I’mtoomortified.Before,Iwasn’tbotheredbythesometimesquestioninglooksIgot.Butit’sshiftedintooutrightverbalassault.Ononehand,Iappreciatetheanimalrightsactivists’passion,butbeingonthereceivingendoftheirwrathunfairlyhasshownmeaveryuglysideofhumanity.
Milessettlesahandonmyshoulder.Istareathischest.IfIlookathishandsomeface,there’sachanceI’llgetemotional.It’sbeenlikethatrecently.Spontaneoustears.Questioningmypurpose.
“Kitty,lookatme.”
Idragmyreluctantgazetohisempatheticone.
Hisexpressionissoft,buthealsolooksdetermined.“Iknowthishasbeenreallyhardonyou,andthatyou’restrugglingtofigurethingsout,butthis”—hemotionstothecar—“ispartofwhoyouare.Itmakesyoudistinctlyyou.Andyouarelovedbyalotofpeople.Sometimeswhenwefall,weneedtotakethehandthat’sbeenofferedtous,getbackonourfeet,dustourselvesoff,andkeepgoing.”
Isigh.“Idon’twantmycartogetvandalizedagain.”
“Iknow.Itwon’t.”
Sincetheparkincident,I’vebeenborrowingmysister’scaralot.AndMileshasbeengoodaboutlendingmehis.We’rejustdrivingtohisplace,andafterthesideofmycarwasspraypainted,they’veincreasedtheundergroundparkingsecurity.Hisapartmenthadfootageofthepersonwhodidit,buttheywerewearingaskimaskandnondescriptall-blackclothes.
“I’llgrabmykeys.”
“That’smygirl.”Hedipsdownandpresseshislipstomine.
Insteadofheadingforthehighway,Milesgoesintheoppositedirection,towarddowntown.
“Wherearewegoing?”
“Ineedtomakeonestop,”Milesinformsme.
“What?Why?”I’msuddenlyonhighalert.Stopswerenotonthemenu.It’ssupposedtobeastraightshotfrommymom’shousetohisapartment.
TheonlyplacesI’vegonetowillinglylatelyhavebeenKat’sCatCaféandthegrocerystore.Andonlywhenit’snecessaryandIhaveaccesstomysister’scar.Ialsooftensneakinthebackdoor,soIdon’thavetofaceanyonebutKat.AndI’vetakentoshoppingatthegrocerystoreontheedgeoftown,wherefewerpeoplewillrecognizemeandaskmequestions.
“Itwon’ttakelong,”Milesreassuresme.
Idon’tknowwhat’sgoingon,buthe’sbeing…sketchy,maybe?He’smorefidgetythanusual,butit’spossiblemyanxietyisrubbingoffonhim.
AfewminuteslaterMilesparksacrossthestreetfromKat’s.
“Whyarewehere?”
“Ihavetopicksomethingup.”
“Whydidn’tyouaskmetopickwhateveritisup?Ihaveakeyandanofficehere.”
“Iknewyouweren’tgoingtohavetimetostophereearlierbecauseyourschedulewasfull.”
He’snotwrong,andlikeallmyotherclients,hehasaccesstomydailyandweeklycalendar.Despitethehorriblethingspeoplearesayingaboutme,mostofmyclientshavebeensupportive.Onlyafewoftheneweronesjumpedship.
“Ipromiseit’llbequick,andtherearemultipleorgasmswaitingforyouatmyplace.”
“Okay.”Isigh,wishingthepromiseofmultiplescouldalleviatemyanxiety.IexpectthepeoplepassingusonthestreettoyellmeanthingswhenIexitthevehicle.Noonedoes,butacouplewalkingtheirdoggivemeadirtylookandcrossestotheothersideofthestreet.
“Justignoretheassholes.”Milessettleshispalmagainstmylowerbackandguidesmetowardthefrontdoor.Asweapproachthecaféawomanstopsme.Ibraceformorehate,butshetellsmeshedoesn’tbelievewhateveryoneissaying,andshehopesIcangetthismessclearedupsoon.Thenshehugsme,andIalmostburstintotears.
“See?You’vegotpeopleonyourside.”
“IjustmissthedayswhenIhadmorepeopleonmysidethannot,”Imurmur,swallowingdowntheemotions.
It’shardnottoletthehurtfulnessseepinandtaintthegoodparts.Whenwereachtheentrance,Ipullonthedoor,buttheclosedsignishanginginthewindow.“That’sweird.It’susuallyopenuntilnine.Letmegetmykey.”
MilesknocksontheglassdoorwhileIrummagearoundinmypurse.
“Wheretheheckisit?Iwasholdingmykeysasecondago.”Ipeerinside.Peoplearemovingaround.“Maybetheyhadabathroomaccidentorsomething.”It’shappenedbefore.Usuallyitonlytakesafewminutestocleanup.
Merlin,oneofthebaristas,opensthedoorforus.“Ohgreat!You’rehere.Perfect!Comeonin.”HeopensthedoorsoMilesandIcansqueezethrough,thenlocksitagain.
“What’sgoingon?”Imutter.Thisseemslikewe’regettingreadyforanillegalcatfightorsomething.
ImovetotherightsoI’mstandingbesideMilesinsteadofbehindhim.Isuckinashockedbreath.WhenIwashereearlierintheweekeverythingwasnormal.Buttodaythetableshavebeenmovedaroundsothecenterofthecaféisopen.Andintheirplaceisasingletablewithtwoplushchairs.Surroundingthosechairsarelights,microphones,andavideocamera.
Butit’snotthesetupthathasmyheartpalpitating.It’sthewomansittinginoneofthechairs.“Ohmygosh.IsthatBritSheers?”IgrabMiles’sarmbecauseIsuddenlyfeellight-headed.
“Itis.”
“Whatisshedoinghere?She’smyunicorn.IthinkI’mgoingtohyperventilate.WhereisKat?What’sgoingon?Doessheknowaboutthis?”
Britpushesoutofthechair,herwide,perfect,white-toothedsmileglintinginthecameralights.She’sevenmorebeautifulinreallifethansheisoncamera,andthat’ssayingsomething.
“KittyHart!It’ssowonderfultofinallymeetyou!”Sheextendsahand.
“You’rereal,andyou’retalkingtome,”Imumble.
Blackspotsandwhitedotsswimintheedgesofmyvision,slowlywashingoverherfacelikethetidecomingin.Idon’thaveachancetoholdoutmyownhand,becausesuddenlytheworldgoesdark.
“Kitty?Babe?”There’sahandonmycheek,tappinggently.
Iblink.
“Ithinkshe’scomingaround.”Miles’sfaceappears,thewaveofblackslowtorecede.“Hey,youokay?”
“I…havenoidea.”I’mcompletelydisoriented.
Katishoveringoverhisshoulder,herfingersatherlips.“Itoldyouthesurprisewouldfreakherout.”
Mileshelpsmeintoasittingposition.“Takeitslow.”
MygazeshiftsfromMilestoKat,whoiswringingherhands,butalsosmilingeartoear.IrealizethatBritSheerswasn’tastrangedream.I’mreallysittingonthefloorofKat’sCatCafé,andBrit’sreallyhere.
“Ohmygosh,didIjustfaint?”
“Youdid.I’msorry.IprobablyshouldhavetoldyouwhatIwasplanning,butIdidn’twanttogiveyouthechancetobackout,andIknowhowmuchyouloveBrit.Ithoughtmaybeshewouldreachoutandsendyouamessage,butshewantstointerviewyou,sohereweare,”Milesword-vomitsthosetwoverylongsentencesinundertenseconds.
IttakesmesixtimesaslongtoprocessthembecauseI’mstillhazyaftermyfaintingspell.
BritSheershandsmeaglassoforangejuice.“Here,drinkthis.It’llhelp.”
“Ican’tbelieveyou’rerealandyou’rehandingmeorangejuice.Ialsocan’tbelieveIfainted.”Itaketheglass,thentackona“thankyou.”
Itakeseveralsips,waitacoupleminutesforthesugartoworkitsmagic,andthenallowMilesandKattohelpmetomyfeet.I’mluckythatit’swinterandI’mwearingadressandleggings,andthatIdidn’tflashanyonemyunderwear.
IwobblemywaytothechairoppositeBrit.“I’mconfusedaboutwhat’shappeninghere,”Iadmit.
Atrioofpeoplestandofftothesidewithwhatlookslikeatoolbox.Britholdsupherhand.“Giveusaminute,thenyoucanworkyourmakeupmagic.”
Theyshuffleoff,mutteringapologies.
Brit’sattentionreturnstome.MilesisstandingbythetreatdisplaywithKat.Iwouldloveitifhewasholdingmyhand,butIrealizethatwouldbesuperawkward.
“Milesreachedoutafterwhathappenedonsocialmedia,andIsawagreatopportunitytoshowcaseyouandyourbusiness.I’vebeenafanofyoursforalongtime,andIwantmorepeopletoknowaboutthewomanbehindthatvideoandgiveyouachancetosharethetruestory.”
“Thatvideohasbeentheworstthingtohappentome,”Imutter.
“Thatvideowastotallytakenoutofcontext.AndIknowexactlywhatit’sliketobeinyourshoes.”Hersmileisfullofempathy.“I’mhopingwecanclearupthemisunderstandingwithtoday’sinterview.”
“I’mnotsurehowyou’lldothatwhenthere’snoproofthatIdidn’tintentionallytacklemyboyfriend’sdog,”Iadmit.
“I’llbeabletohelpwiththat.Iwanttheworldtoseetheauthenticyou,thesameyouthatIfellinlovewithwhenyoustartedyourcat-sittingbusinessfouryearsago.It’llbelikehavingaconversationatthedinnertable.Casualandinformal.Justbeyou.”
“Icandothat.Justbeme.”
Hermakeupteamswoopsinandtakescareofmyfaceandhairbeforetheytouchherup.Andthenthecameracrewiscountingdownfromfive.IglanceoveratMiles,whogivesmeathumbs-up.
Asifoncue,Tuxcomespaddingacrosstheroomandjumpsintomylapaswegolive.Oneofthecrewmembersstepsup,asifhe’sgoingtoremovethekitty,butMilesstopshim.
Tuxnudgesmychinwithhisnose,thenkneadsmylegstomakehimselfcomfortable,despitethecameracrewandallthelightsshiningdirectlyonus.
“Hello,fans!I’monlocationjustoutsideofTorontointhequainttownofTerraCotta,atKat’sCatCaféandRescueShelterwiththeoneandonlyKittyHart,ownerofthefamouscat-sittingandtrainingcompany,theKittyWhisperer.Kitty,it’sapleasuretohaveyouwithustoday,”Britsaysbrightly
Tuxheadbuttsmyfaceagain,soIgivehimafewpets,thenpushonhisbutt.Hetakesthehintandsettlesinmylap.“It’sarealpleasuretobeheretoday,Brit,butIhavetobehonest,I’mreallyhopingIdon’tdoanythingembarrassingthat’sgoingtoresultinanothermeme.”IreallywishI’dstoppedbeforethesentencebecamearun-on.LikeIneedtogiveanyoneideasaboutmakingmorememes.There’scurrentlyoneofpoorWilfredwithwildeyesandmeonhisbackwiththeline“getoffme,crazycatlady”onit.
Britchuckles.“Youknowyou’reinthebigleagueswhenyou’reameme!Iremembermyfirstmeme.IgotcaughtyawningattheEmmys.I’dbeensonervousthenightbeforetheeventIhadn’tsleptawink,andofcoursesomeonecaughtmemid-yawn.”SheholdsupaniPadwiththememeonit.“Suchaflatteringpicture,isn’tit?”Shechucklesandrollshereyes,thengivesherattentionbacktome.“Jokesaside,canyoutellmewhatthelastweekhasbeenlikeforyou?Icanimaginethishasn’tbeeneasyonyou.”
Itakeadeepbreathanexhalesomeofmyanxiety.“Icanhandlethememes,andI’musedtopeoplepokingfunatmycar,buttheworstparthasbeenhowsomeonetooksomethingandtwistedittomakeitlooklikeIwasintentionallyharmingananimal.Iwon’tevenkillspiders,andIcertainlywouldn’tpurposelytackleWilfred.”Ipauseandclearmythroat,thetopicmakingmebothemotionalandfrustrated.
“I’vebeenfollowingyouforyears,Kitty,andwhilewedon’tknoweachotherpersonally,Icansay,withconfidence,thatIbelieveyoudidn’tintentionallysetouttohurtyourboyfriend’sdog.”
“Thanks.NowIjustneedtoconvincetherestoftheworld.”
“Imightbeabletohelpwiththat.”Shenodstothecameraman,whobringsoveralaptopandsetsitonthetablebetweenus.Onthescreenisasocialmediaaccountofwhatappearstobeacollegestudent.“Wewereabletotrackdowntheoriginofthevideoandthepersonwhopostedit.Forthesakeofprotectingthatperson’sidentity,we’renotdisclosinghisname,buthehassomethinghewantstosaytoyou,Kitty,ifyou’reinterestedinhearinghimout.”
“Ifhe’sgoingtosaynastythings,I’llpass,”Itellher.
Shethrowsherheadbackandlaughs.“ThisiswhyIloveyou,Kitty.Nomincingwords.”
Iblushandshrug.“It’sbeenaroughweek.Idon’tneedanyone,especiallynotthepersonwhomadeitsohard,givingmethegears.”
“No,youcertainlydon’t,”Britagrees.“Andthisyoungmanwouldliketoapologizefortheproblemshe’scausedyou,ifyou’reinterested.”
Ican’tseeBritbringingthisguyonhershowifallitwasgoingtodowasmakethingsworse,soInodmyagreement.
Avideofeedcomesthrough,andasecondlaterI’mstaringatacollege-agedkid.He’swearingglassesandamangaT-shirt.Helooksnervous.
IlooktoBrit.“Willeveryonebeabletoseehisface?”Iask.
Sheshakesherhead.“Tobeclear,onlywewillknowtheidentityoftheyoungmanwhopostedthevideo.”
Inodagain.“Okay.Peoplemakemistakes,andIwouldnotwantthesamethingthat’shappenedtomethisweektohappentosomeoneelse.Eventhepersonresponsibleforit.”
“Ilovethateventhoughthisweekhasbeenanightmareforyouandyou’resecondsawayfromfindingoutwhothatpersonis,youstilldon’twanttothrowthemunderthebus.WhatI’mofferingtodayisproofthatthevideothat’sbeenmakingyourlifeanightmareisn’tevenremotelyaccurate.”Britturnsherattentiontothelaptop.“Ithinkyouhavesomethingyou’dliketosaytoKitty?”
Theyoungmanrunshishandsoverhisjean-coveredthighs.“Ishouldn’thavepostedthatclip.Ididn’tthinkabouthowitwouldimpactanyone,andIdidn’tthinkitwouldgoviralthewayitdid.AndI’msorryforthat.Isawyoutrip.AndIknewyoudidn’tmeantohurtyourdog,anditwaswrongofmetoedititandmakeyoulookbad.”
“Youhavethefullvideo?”IglancefromhimtoBrit.
“He’salreadysentittome,andwe’llbeairingit.”
“Oh.Ohwow.”Iturnbacktotheyoungman.“Thankyouforapologizing.AndforsendingBritthefullvideo.”
Hechewsonhisbottomlipandnodsvigorously.“I’mreallysorry,Kitty.IwishIcouldtakeitback.Mymomisahugefanofyours,andwehavetwocats.IwouldneverhaveposteditifIknewthedamageitwasgoingtodo.”
Iswallowdownthelumpinmythroat.“Thankyouforbeingbraveenoughtocomeforwardandhelpsettherecordstraight.”
Britthankshimandrunsthefull,uneditedclip.It’snotparticularlyflattering,butitdoescapturetheboyswhoskateboardedfartooclosetousandtheflusteredflockofgeese.It’sacomedyoferrorswiththewayPrinceFrancisattacheshimselftomyhip,andItripoveranunevencrackinthesidewalk,causingmetofallontopofpoorWilfredandaccidentallysmackhiminthenoseasItrytowrapmyarmsaroundhisneckandkeephimfromlungingorbolting,anditfeedsouttoeveryonewatchingtheliveinterview.
Oncethecliphasfinishedrunning,Brit’sattentionreturnstome.“It’samazinghowdifferentthatlookswhenithasn’tbeenediteddown,isn’tit?”
“Youknow,beforewehadthecompletevideo,itwasoneofthosesituationswhereyouneedtobetheretobelieveitcouldhappen.ItwasliterallytheperfectstormforpoorWilfred.AndCanadageese,whilecute,areaggressive.It’slikeCanadachanneledalltheirmeannessintothatoneanimal!”
ThatearnsmeanotherlaughfromBrit,andthensheshiftsgears,steeringtheconversationawayfromwhathappenedintheparktoaskmeabouttheKittyWhispererandhowitallstarted.
It’sagreatinterview,andwhenit’sover,theoutpouringofpositivemessageshelpsdullthestingofthenegativitythatcamewiththeoriginalvideothatwentviral.It’sasthoughsomeonehasswitchedthelensI’mlookingthrough,andnowallIseeisthegoodthatcancomefromsomethingbad.
Assoonaswe’reinthedoortoMiles’splace,Ifusemymouthtohis,breakingthekissonlylongenoughtosay,“Ican’tbelieveyoudidthatforme.”
“Ihadsomehelp.”
Wilfred’snosenudgesagainstourhips.IputmakingoutonpausewhileMilestakeshimoutsideforabathroombreakandIfillWilfred’sbowl.I’mquickerthanMiles,soIstripoutofmostofmyclothes,apartfrommybraandpanties,andwaitforthemtoreturn.
Wilfredgoesstraighttohisbowl,Milesfollowingdownthehall.“Wherewerew—”Hiseyesgowide,andhedropsWilfred’sleashonthefloor.“Damn.Imissedthestriptease.”Hisgazemovesovermeonahotsweep.
Iarchabrow.“Haveyoueverhadastriptease?”Jealousytintsthequestion.Idon’tknowwhyI’maskingthisrightnow,apartfromslightlymorbidcuriosity.
Milesarchesabrowinreturnashecrossestheroom.“No.Butifitwereyouunwrappingyourselflikeagiftforme,I’dbewillingtochangethat.”
“I’llkeepthatinmind.”
Hecupsmyfacebetweenhispalmsandtipsmychinup,eyesheavywithemotion.“Youweresobravetoday,Kitty.”Hislipsbrushovermine.“Ilovewatchingyoushinelikethat.”
“Thankyouformakingitpossible.”Isuckhisbottomlipandletitslidethroughmyteeth.AtthesametimeIstartflickingopenthebuttonsonhisshirt.
“Thankyoufortrustingme.”Heliftsmeonthecounterandstepsbetweenmypartedthighs.
MyfingerstrembleasImakemywaythroughhisbuttonsandpushhisshirtoverhisshoulders.Irunmyhandsoverhischest,pausingtopressmypalmoverhisheartasourlipsmeldandourtonguestangle.Tonightfeelsdifferent,emotionsheightened.
Islidehisbeltthroughtheloopandfreetheclasp,thenpopthebuttonanddragthezipperdown.HecoversmyhandwithhisbeforeIcanslipitinsidehisboxers.“Letmetakecareofyoufirst,”hemurmursagainstmylips,hisfreehandflickingtheclaspofmybraopen.
Thestrapsslidedownmyshoulders,exposingmybreasts,andhekissesapathovermycollarbones.Goinglower,hismouthcoversanipple,hisfreehandcuppingmyotherbreast.Hedropstohiskneesandridsmeofmypanties,thenbringsmetoorgasmwithhissofttongueandhisgentleteeth.
I’mbonelessanddesperatebythetimehismouthreturnstomine,tastingofmydesire.Igriphishairandwrapmylegsaroundhiswaist,keepinghimclose.“Ineedyouinsideme.”Ieaseahandbetweenusandfreehimfromhisboxers.
Hesheathshimselfwithacondomandthenhe’sfillingme,gazelockedonmine.Webothshudderandsighasourbodiesjoin.Everythingslows.Istrokehischeek,andhisthumbbrushesalongthecolumnofmythroat.Nolongerinarush,weshiftandmovetogether,sweetandtender.
“Iloveyousomuch,”Iwhisper.
Hesmiles,nosebrushingmycheekashespeaksagainstmylips.“Iloveyou,too.”
Westaylikethat,wrappedineachother,bringingeachothertotheedgeoverandoveruntilwetipintobliss.chaptertwenty-sevenMOVINGFORWARDKitty
LifeshiftsaftertheinterviewwithBrit.Myidealsshiftalongwithit.IlovewhatIdo,andIlovemyauthenticfans,butIneedseparationfromthesocialmediaonslaught.SoFancytakesoverpostingonmysocials,whichmeansIcanfocusontakingcareofmyclients.Istillinteractwithmyfollowers,butIdon’twantthatpartofmyjobtoinfluencethewayIfeelaboutmyself,orwhatIdo,soItrytoletgoofsomeoftheresponsibility.ItakeonwhatIneedtoandgivemyselfspacefromtherest.
Afewweeksaftertheinterview,IhelpmovemysisterintohernewapartmentinthecitywiththeassistanceofMilesandJosh.It’sabusydayfullofliftingboxesandunpacking,butit’stotallyworthittoseemysistersoexcitedforherfuture.
Oncewe’refinished,MilesandIheadbacktohisplace,whichisonlyafewblocksaway.PrinceFrancisandWilfredappearattheendofthehallasMilesushersmeinsidethefrontdoor.Theycomeinforpetsandlove,thenheadforthekitchen.I’vetakentobringingPrinceFrancisalongwhenIstayatMiles’splace,sinceheandWilfredgetalongsowell.We’vefoundthataddingHermantothedynamicisn’tasseamless,sincePrinceFrancisgetsjealous.Butit’sarelationshipworkinprogress.
IfollowMilesdownthehall,andwefeedourfurbabiesbeforehegrabsabeerforhimselfandglassofwineforme.Weshouldprobablyshower,butadrinkonthecouchseemslikeagoodwaytodecompress.
“HowdoyouthinkyourmomisgoingtohandleHattie’smove?”Milesasksashetakesthecushionbesidemine.
“Shehadfriendsoverwhenwecalledtogiveheravirtualtouroftheapartment,andthatfeelslikeabigstepintherightdirection.”Isipmywine,consideringhowdifferentthingshavebeenoverthepastfewmonths.Howmymom’ssociallifehasflourishedrecently.“Ithink…I’vebeenusingmymomasacrutch.”
“Howdoyoumean?”Milesstretcheshisarmalongthebackofthecouchandfingerstheendofmyponytail.
“Mymomisn’ttheonewhohadaproblemmovingon.It’sbeenme.Ididn’twantthingstochange,ormaybeImadeitdifficultforhertofeellikeshecouldchange,sonothingdid.Butoverthepastfewmonthsshe’sstartedtoliveagain.She’sspendingmoretimewithfriends.Doingdifferentthings,developingnewhobbies.IfeellikeI’vebeenholdingherbackthiswholetime.”AndrecentlyshestoppedsettingaplaceforDadatthetable.ThefirsttimeithappenedIwasshocked,thinkingmaybeshejustforgot.Ididn’tsettheplace,though.Andthenithappenedthenexttimewesatdownforameal,andthenext,andthenext.
Milesstrokesmycheekwithasinglefinger.“It’snotfairforyoutoshouldertheblameforthat.Orforyoutotakeresponsibilityforyourmother’slackofactionuntilnow.Maybethechangesinyourlifehaveinspiredhertomakechangesinherown.FromwhatI’veseen,you’reaverytightfamily,anditseemsalotmorelikelythatitwasn’tone-sided.Youwereallholdingeachotherup,andsometimeswhenpeopleleanoneachothertoomuch,theycan’tstepbackandseehowit’simpactingthem.Butyourcareeristakingoff,andHattieisstartinghers,soI’mguessingyourmomsawyoutakingstepsforwardandmayberealizedshecoulddothesame.Youcanonlymakeyourownchoices,Kitty,andtheonesyou’vebeenmakingsinceImetyouhaveallbeeninlinewithsupportingthepeopleyoulove,andlearninghowtogiveyourselfpermissiontoliveyourownlife.”
“Howdoyoualwaysknowexactlywhattosay?”
“Idon’t.IjustknowwhatIseeinyou,andthat’sanamazing,caring,selflesswomanwhohasspentalotoftimeputtingherfamily’sneedsaheadofherown.Igetthatsomeofthatwasbasedonguiltoverwhathappenedtoyourdad.Butyouwereateenagerwhowastryingtomakedinnerandnotsteponyourfamilypet.Ifyou’dhadanyideayourdadwasintrouble,youwouldhavedroppedeverything.”Hesweepshisthumbsundermyeyes,wipingawaytears.
“Idon’tknowwhyI’msoemotional.”
“Becausethingsarechanging,anditmightbeforthebetterforeveryone,butitdoesn’tmeanitstopsbeingscary,orhard.”
Icoverhishandwithmine.“I’msogladyoucameintomylifewhenyoudid.You’retheonewhomademeseethatsometimeschangeisexactlywhatweneed.”
“Thefeelingiscompletelymutual,incaseyouwerewondering.Andifyou’reinterestedinmakinganyadditionalbigchanges,you’realwayswelcometotakeuptherightsideofmybedpermanently.”Hegivesmealopsided,slightlyuncertainsmile.
“Areyouinvitingmetomoveinwithyou?”Mystomachdoesasomersault,andmyheartstutters.
“I’mextendinganopeninvitationforwheneveryou’rereadyformorechange.”Hecupsmyfacebetweenhispalms.“Incaseyouneedreminding,Iloveyou,Kitty.MyfavoritedaysaretheoneswhereIwakeupwithyoubesideme.”
“Iloveyou,too.AndI’dabsolutelylovetoclaimtherightsideofyourbedpermanently.I’llhappilydealwithacatwhogetsjealouswhenwespoonandwakinguptoWilfredbreathinginmyface.”
Hedipsdownandpresseshislipstomine.Ifeelhislove,notjustinhiswordsandhiskiss,butrightdowntomysoul.chaptertwenty-eightHARTTOHARTKitty
OnSundayafternoonIheadbackhome.IdefinitelywanttomoveinwithMiles,butitmeansalotofschedulechangesandcommutingoutofthecitytomakemycurrentclientruns.Itwilltakeplanningandpossiblyhiringanotherperson.Icanhandlethebulkoftheclientswhoareonthefringeofthecity,andIhaveahandfulIdon’twanttogiveup,butI’msureIcanmakeitwork.
Theother,biggerissueistellingmymom.EspeciallysinceIjustmovedHattieyesterday,andI’mawarethathavingtwoadultchildrenmoveoutonerightaftertheotherisbeyondmonumental.SoI’mfullypreparedtomakethetransitionslowly,overseveralmonthsifnecessary.
Idon’twanttoabandonmymom,butIdowanttostartbuildingalifeofmyown.OnethatincludesMilesandWilfredandPrinceFrancis.IfI’velearnedanythingsinceImetMiles,it’sthatthepeoplewhoholdyouuparetheonesyouneedtoholdontothetightest
WhenIarrivehome,mymotherispullingafreshpieoutoftheoven.ShestoppedbyHattie’syesterdaytoseetheapartment.It’sthefirsttimeshe’sdrivenintothecityinyears.Hattieinvitedmetocomeforlunch,andbecauseherapartmentisclosetoMiles’splace,itwaseasyformetojointhem.
“Oh!Ididn’trealizeyouwerecomingbacktonight.Ithoughtyou’dbestayingwithMilesuntilthemorning.”
“IhaveacoupleclientsIneedtocheckonthisevening,andIhaveearlystopsinthemorning,”Iexplain.
“IwasplanningtohavedinnerwithMarie.”Herexpressionreflectsuncertainty.“ShouldIcancel?Ormaybeyou’dliketojoinus?”
Idon’twanthertofeelbadforhavingalifeandlivingit.“That’sokay.Youdon’tneedtochangeyourplansonmyaccount.Itwasabusyweekend,soI’llbeinbedearly.”
“Ifyou’resureyou’llbeokayonyourown.”Shestillseemsambivalent
“I’llhavePrinceFrancistokeepmecompany.”
Hecomestrottingintothekitchenandplunkshisbuttbyhisfooddish.
“Okay.He’sdefinitelygoodcompany.”Mombendstogivehimapet,thenuntiesherapronandhangsitonthehook.“Hattie’snewplacelooksgreat.I’msogladshehadyoutohelpher.”
“Itis.Andshe’sexcitedaboutthisnewjobandlivinginthecity.Andit’snicethatherapartmentisn’ttoofarfromMiles.”
“You’vebeenspendingalotoftimewithhimlately.Itseemslikeit’sgettingprettyserious.”Icantellshe’sfishing.
Idecidetobitethebulletandtellherthetruth.“Heaskedmetomoveinwithhim.”
Shepropsherhipagainstthecounterandsmilesknowingly.“Iwonderedwhenthatwascoming.”
“Youdon’tseemsurprised.”
“Thatboyisasmittenkitten.Thatwasclearfromthefirsttimehecametopickyouup.Andyouclick.ItremindsmeofthewayyourdadandIwerewhenwefirstmet.Youhavethespark.Movingintogetheristhenextlogicalstep.”
“Mmm.Itis,butit’sabigstep.”
“Whatworriesyouaboutit?”
“I’veneverlivedanywherebuthere,andwithanyonebutyouandHattie,andDad…untilhepassed.I’veneverlivedonmyown.It’sabigshifttogofromlivingwithfamilytolivingwithapartner.”
Momnodsinunderstanding.“Everyone’spathisdifferent,andourshasn’tnecessarilybeentheeasiestonetonavigate.There’snorightorwrongwaytodothis,Kitty.Ifyouwanttomoveintoyourownapartmentfirst,thenyoucandothat.ButifyoufeellikethisistherighttimetomoveinwithMiles,thenthat’swhatyoushoulddo.”
“Whataboutyou,though?You’llbeinthisbighouseallbyyourself.”ThisisthepartI’mhavingthehardesttimewith.“AndHattiejustmovedout,andnowI’mdroppinganotherpotentialmove-outbombonyou.”
Momcoversmyhandwithhers.“Oh,honey,it’snotyourresponsibilitytomakesureI’mtakencareof,andIrealizethat’saroleyou’vetakenonforalotofyears.”Shesighs.“Afteryourdadpassed,Ifelt…lostandbroken.Myheartwasinpiecesbecausemypartnerwasgone,anditfeltlikemysoulhadbeentorninhalf.Andthereyouwere,makingsuredinnerwasonthetableeverynightwhenIwasstrugglingtokeepittogether.Youmadesureyoursistergottoschooleverydayandthatshedidn’tforgetherlunch.”
“Wewereallgrieving,anditwashardestonyou.”
Shesmilesgently.“Youdon’tneedtomakeexcusesforme.Iwasn’taverypresentmotherforacoupleyears.AndIknowyouwenttoalocalcollegesoyoucouldmakesureHattieandIweretakencareof.You’vespentsomuchtimeputtingyourownlifeonholdtomakesureourfamilywasokay.Inalotofwaysyoubecamebothmotherandfather.AndI’vestruggledtofindawaytostepbackintothoseshoes.ButIcandothatnow,foryou.You’vesacrificedmorethanenoughforthisfamily,Kitty.Ifmovinginwithyourboyfriendiswhatyouwanttodo,thenyoushould,withoutworryingaboutanythingbuthowyou’regoingtofeelaboutsomeoneelse’sdirtysocksbeingmixedinwithyours.”
“Willyoubeabletocarrythehouseonyourown?”Themortgageispaidoff,butthecostofrunningahouseonasingleincomemightbemorethanisreasonable.Idon’twantmymomtolosethistietoDad,andIdon’twanthertohavetoworkmorehourstomakeendsmeet.
Momnods.“Ihavethingscovered.AndIhaveitongoodauthoritythatthere’saunitinMarie’ssubdivisioncomingupforsalesoon.Ireallyloveitthere.WithHattiealreadyinthecityandyoupotentiallymovinginwithMileswhenyoufeelthetimeisright,it’sprobablyagoodtimeformetoconsiderdownsizing.Thisisagreathouseforafamily,butyou’rerightthatit’salotforoneperson.”
“Wouldyousellthehouse?”I’velivedheremyentirelife.Everyfirsttookplaceinsidethesewalls.Andmaybethat’sanotherreasonIhaven’ttakenthisstep,becausemovingoutwouldmeanleavingbehindsomuchofmyhistory.
Momtapsherlip.“It’sahardbalancetostrike,isn’tit,lettinggoofthethingsthatholdsomanyimportantmemoriesforus?”Shetakesmyhandsinhers.“Foralongtime,Ineededthecomfortofthememories,butIallowedthemtotakeover.Iseethatnow.AndasmuchasIlovethishouseandthememorieswemadehere,they’realltuckedsafelyinsideourhearts.”Shesqueezesmyhandsgently.“Sometimes,wehavetoletgoofthepasttomakeroomforabrighterfuture.”
Shepullsmeinforahug,andIfeelherlovelikeabalmtomyheart.We’reallmovingforward,leavingbehindthehurtsofthepastsowecanembracewhat’scomingnext.
Afterweshedafewtears,Iushermymomoutthedoor,tellinghertoenjoyhernightwithMarie.Oncesheleaves,Iplopdownonthecouchwithmylaptop.PrinceFrancisjoinsme,soImovethelaptoptotheneighboringcushion.PrinceFranciskneadshissharpclawsintomylegsuntilI’mtenderizedandcurlsintoaballinmylap.He’swearingasweatshirtthatI’mprettysuremymommadeforhimoutofoldbabyclothes.
It’sawkwardtocheckmysocialmediawhenmycomputerissittingnexttome.Ionlydothiseverycoupleofdaysnow,butI’mgratefulthatitnolongerscaresmethewayitdidafterthememesituation.Peoplestilllovetosharetheirfeelings,andtheydon’talwayssugar-coatthem,butI’velearnedtoputwhatMilescallsmyLegoarmoronbeforeIdothat:atemporaryshieldthatIcanputonortakeoffwhenIneedto.Iremindmyselfthattherearealwaysgoingtobepeoplewholiketoteareachotherdown,andwhenthathappens,I’lltakeabreakandletsomeonewhodoesn’thavethesameemotionalconnectiontomyaudiencedealwithit.Sometimesanimpartialobserveristhebestwaytogo.
Igothroughnewtagsfirst,thankingpeopleandcommentingonposts,beforeIswitchtomyemail.Istartattheoldestonesfirst,schedulingresponsestogooutfirstthinginthemorningsoIdon’tgetrepliesinthemiddleofthenightonaSunday.
Thereareseveralnewclientemails.There’snowanintegratedformsopeoplecanprovidedetailsupfront,includingdaysandtimestheywouldbelookingforcat-sittingservices,whetherit’slongorshortterm,andtheageandpersonalityoftheirpet.Thatway,whenwe’relookingtopairthemwithoneoftheKittyWhispererstaff,wecanassesswhowouldbeagoodfitbeforewe’veevenhadachancetomeet.
AsI’mworkingthroughmyemails,oneinparticularcatchesmyattention.It’sfromaprominentandwell-knownanimalrescueassociation.Iclickontheemailandreadthecontents:
DearMs.Hart,
AslongtimefansofBritSheersandherheavyinvolvementincatandanimalrescueinitiatives,wewatchedyoursegmentonyourcat-sittingandtrainingservicebusiness,andwelovewhatyou’redoing.We’recurrentlyintheprocessofdevelopinganewinitiativeinTorontothatfocusesoncatrehabilitationandpairingcatsinneedofspecialcarewithlovinghumans.Withyourknowledgeandexperienceinthefield,wefeelyouwouldmakeanincredibleadditiontoourteam.Yourgentleapproachwouldmakeyouafabulousleaderforourcarefullyselectedstaff.Wewouldlovetomeetwithyoutodiscussthisfurtheratyourearliestconvenience.YoucanfindoutmoreaboutthispilotprojectHERE
Welookforwardtohearingfromyouandhopethatyou’llconsiderjoiningtheAPlaceforPawsTeam.
Best,
MaryJaneFelt
CEOofAPlaceforPaws
IreadtheemailoveratleastsixtimesbeforeIfinallyclickonthelink.Andmyheartmelts.TheproposedinitiativeistocreateatrainingandadoptionprogramforcatsthathavevariousexceptionalitieswithafocusonintegrationandregularvisitsfromthestaffatAPlaceforPawswhiletheadoptedcatstransitionintotheirnewhomes.
It’sessentiallymydreamjob.Andtheywantmetohelpleadthepilotproject.
Mystomachdoesafewflip-flopsasIcomposearesponse.IpausetoscratchPrinceFrancis’sheadwhenhebuttsitagainstmythigh.“Ifeellikeeverythingisfallingintoplace.Howmuchwouldyoulovetobetheolderbrothertoawholebunchofkitties?”Igivehimascratchunderthechin,andheyawnswidely.“Iseehowitis.You’replayingitcool.Whatanamazingopportunity.Ihavetogofortheinterview.”
PrinceFrancismeowshisagreement.
IhitSendontheemail.chaptertwenty-ninePAWSITIVECHANGESKitty
Thisisclearlyfatetellingusthatyou’resupposedtomovetothecityandwe’redestinedtolivetogether.”Mileskissesmeonthetemple,thentrailsseveralmorealongmycheekuntilhereachesmylips.
“Letmegettheinterviewundermybeltbeforeyougodustingoffyourcrystalball.”AnyotherthoughtsIwouldliketoputintowordsgetlostinmyheadwhenhecoversmymouthwithhisandkissesmebreathless.
Halfanhourandtwoorgasmslater,MilesandIaresittingonthecouchinhislivingroom.WilfredandPrinceFrancisarecloseby,snugglinginWilfred’sbed.WhichisalsonowPrinceFrancis’sbed.Thosetwoarepracticallyinseparablethesedays.Andonthenightswherewe’renothereatMiles’s,PrinceFrancisismopey,asthoughhemisseshisbestfour-leggedfriend.
“IcanputapininmakingofficiallyofficialplansforyouandPrinceFrancistomoveinwithmeandWilfreduntilyou’vegonefortheinterview,butthisjobsoundsperfectforyou.”Milesadjustsmylegssotheylieacrosshislap.
“Itreallydoes.”IcalledMileslastnighttotellhimthenews,afterwhichhewentonaGooglemissiontofindouteverythinghecouldaboutthecompany.ThenhecreatedaprosandconsspreadsheetabouttakingthejobovercontinuingtogrowtheKittyWhisperer.Andhealsocreatedathirdcolumn,withthepotentialtocontinuetodobothwithoutburningmyselfout.
“Ifyouwanttodoboth,youcan,andthere’srealpotentialfortheKittyWhisperertocontinueexpanding,ifthat’syourgoal.Ibetthey’devenbewillingtopartnerwithyouifyoubroughtthattothetable.You’reaninvaluableresource,Kitty,andtheyclearlyseethat.Yourfaceontheirpilotprojectwillgoalongwaytomakingitsuccessful.Askforwhatyouwanttomorrow,andtellthemyoudon’twanttogiveupwhatyou’vebuilt.Andifyoulikewhatthey’reofferingyou,thenaskthemtohelpyoufindawaytomakeitwork.”
“It’shardtobelieveafewdaysagoIwaspluggingalong,doingmydaytoday,andnowhereIam,interviewingforanewjob,potentiallymovingtothecity.It’slikemywholeworldhasbeenturnedupsidedowninthebestwaypossible.”Aftertheinitialpanic,inwhichIquestionedwhetherIcouldhonestlyandtrulyhandleallthechangeslifewasthrowingatme,Icalledmysister.
Sheechoedwhatmymothersaid.AndthenshetoldmetogoupstairsandstandinherbedroomandtellherwhatIsaw.Nothinghadchangedinthedayssinceshemoved,buteverythinghadchanged.Thethingsthathadmadeitherroomhadgonewithhertotheapartmentinthecity.Sure,itwasstillabedroom,butthelifethathadoccupieditwasmissing.Thelittlethingsthatwouldtriggermemorieshaddisappeared.
Changehappenedregardlessofwhetherwecalledonit.Icouldchoosetoembraceitorfightit,butitwascomingforme,nomatterwhat.SoIembracedit.Allofit.FromtheinterviewtomovinginwithMiles.AndIstartedbybringingoverafewoutfitstokeepinhiscloset.
ThenextmorningWilfredwakesusupwithhisstinkydog-breathalarm.
“Stayrightwhereyouare.I’lltakecareofthesetwo,andthenI’lltakecareofyou.”Milesrollsoutofbed,andPrinceFrancisandWilfredfollowhimtothebathroom.Theysitinfrontofthedoor,tailswagginginunisonwhiletheywaitforhimtodohisbusinessandthencontinuetothekitchentofeedthem.
IgrabafruityMentosfromtherollinthenightstanddrawerandlosemynightshirt.WefinallyfiguredoutwhatMilesisallergicto.Apparently,asakidheusedtohaveastrangereactiontoanythingminty.Histonguewouldgetitchyandhismouthwouldpeel,sohe’savoidedallmintythingssince.Afewweeksago,IkissedhimafterIhadaminthotchocolate,andhislipspuffedupslightly,butanantihistaminelater,theywerebacktotheirnormalfullkissableness.
Thefollowingweek,IpickedupatoyforPrinceFrancisthatcontainedcatnip.AndMileshadafull-blownallergicreactionthatrequiredmetoinjecthimwithhisEpiPen,atriptotheER,andaformalmintallergydiagnosis.Catnipispartofthemintfamily.NomoregettinghighforPrinceFrancis,andnomoremint-mochabeveragesforme.
Aminutelater,Milesreturnsandclosesthedoorbehindhim,sowehavesomeprivacy.We’velearnedthehardwaythatleavingthedooropen,evenacrack,isnotagoodideawhenwe’replanningtohavenakedfun.
PrinceFrancisyowlswhenImoantooloudly,andWilfredjoinsinwithforlornhowling.Feedingthemtendstokeepthembusylongenoughthatwecangetinsomeprivatetimewithoutanunwantedchorus.
Milesjoinsmeunderthesheets,ourlegstangling.“Ican’twaittowakeuptoyourbeautifulfaceeverysinglemorning.”Heslantshismouthovermine,andwebothsinkintothekiss.Wemakeslow,lazylove,enjoyingtheclosenessandthecomfortwefindineachotherbeforeweleavethehavenofhisbed.
Myinterviewisn’tuntiltenthismorning,andMilesdoesn’thavetobeattherinkuntileleven,sowetakeourtimemakingbreakfast,andwetalkabouttheinterviewandthequestionsIshouldask.
Mileswalksmedowntotheparkinggarageatnine-thirtyandgivesmealong,lingeringkiss.“I’dwishyouluck,butyoudon’tneedit,sincethisisbasicallythemtryingtowooyou.”
“Crossyourfingersformethatitgoeswellanyway.”
IhopintomyCat-mobileanddrivetoAPlaceforPaws.It’sonlytwentyminutesfromMiles’sapartment,whichisanothercheckmarkintheprocolumn.
I’mgreetedbyayoungwomandressedinscrubswithacatfacepatternonthem.“KittyHart!You’rehere.”Sheextendsahand;hereyesarewideandshelooksasnervousasIfeel.
“Hi.Andyes,Iam.”
Sheshakesherheadandhasafull-bodyreactionthatremindsmeofsomeonebeingshocked.Byaliveelectricalwire.“I’msosorry.MynameisAnnie.I’moneoftheresidentcatlovers.Myjobistolovethenewkittiestheybringinforustorehabilitate.MaryJaneisjustspeakingwiththevet,butshe’llbeoutinaminute.CanIshowyouaroundwhileyou’rewaiting?”
“Sure.Thatsoundsgreat.”
“Awesome.Fantastic.”Sheclapsherhandsandgrins.“I’mstillkindofinshockthatyou’restandinghere.I’mahugefan.”Shecringes.“IpromisedmyselfI’dkeepmycool,butI’mfailingsohardrightnow.”
“I’mjustacatloverwhohappenstohavegoneviralwithavideo.”Iwink.
Hereyesgowideagain.“Ican’tbelievethathappened.AndIsawthewholevideothatBritSheersposted.Andyouwererightaboutthegeese.Itislikewe’vechanneledallourmeannessintothatoneanimal.”
“Iknow!They’reridiculouslysurlycreatures,aren’tthey?”
“Theyreallyare.”Annienodsheragreementandleadsmedownthehall.
Sheopensadoortoalargeroom.It’sacat’splaygroundparadise.Therearecattreesspreadthroughouttheroomatvariousintervals,andstairsfixedtothewallsleadingtoperchesforcatstohangouton.Severalkittieskeepwatchfromthehighestpointsintheroom,guardingtheirterritory.Othercatsloungeinbedsorzoomaroundthespace,playingwithtoysoreachother.
“Thisisincredible.”It’sexactlythekindofspaceIwantedtosetupfortheKittyWhispererinthefuturewhenIhadmyownhouseandcoulddedicateaspacetomyfurrycharges.OrwhenIhadthecapitaltorentaspace.
“It’smyfavoriteroom.Thisiswhereourhealthycatswhoenjoythecompanionshipofbothhumansandfurryfriendshangoutduringtheday.Wehaveasmallerroomforthemoreskittishones,andtheoneswhoneedsocialtraining,”Annietellsme.
“Thisisperfect.Wheredotheysleepatnight?”
“Come,I’llshowyou.”Annieguidesmedownthehalltoanotherroom.Thisonehasindividualcages,butthey’renotlikelittlecells.Instead,they’redecoratedwithtoys,andeachonehasacatbedandacatstuffie.“Thisiswherewekeepthekittieswhosleepbestontheirown,butwehaveanotherroomforcommunalsleeping.”
Shetakesmenextdoor,wherethereareafewcatscurleduptogether,enjoyingnaptime.Atabbyputshispawoverhiseyesandrollsawayfromus,obviouslynotinterestedinbeingdisturbed.
“Doyoufosterferalfamiliessometimes?”
“Wedo.Wehavespecialroomsforthemaswell.”
Awomanpeeksherheadin.“IthoughtImightfindyouinhere.Ihopeyou’reenjoyingyourtour.”
“It’sgreat.Annieisafantasticguide.”
Thewoman,whoIrecognizeastheCEOofAPlaceforPaws,holdsoutahand.“I’mMaryJane.Wespokeoveremail.Thankyousomuchfortakingtimeoutofyourdaytomeetwithus.”
“It’shonestlyapleasure.Thisplaceisfabulous.”
Shedoesn’ttakemetoaboardroom;insteadwegrabcoffees(withtakeoutcuplidstoavoiddrinkingcatfur)andsitinthekittyplayground,whereshetellsmeallaboutthepilotproject.
WebothendupwithcatsinourlapsasshetalksabouthowhervisionistotakewhatI’vebuiltwiththeKittyWhispererandmakeitafull-serviceprogram,withavetonstaffandfelinecaresupportavailablefortheadoptivefamilies.
“Wedon’twanttotakeyouawayfromwhatyou’vealreadybuilt,Kitty,”MaryJaneexplains.“We’rehoping,ifyou’reinterested,thatwecouldmergeyourbusinessmodelwithours.Thatwayyoucankeepdoingwhatyoulove,whilehelpingusstartupthisnewprogram.”
“Thisallsoundsamazing.I’llneedafewweekstogetthingsorganizedwithmystaff,though.”
“Youcantakeallthetimeyouneed.Idon’twanttogetaheadofmyself,butdoesthismeanyou’recomingonboard?”
Idon’tevenhavetothinkaboutit.Ialreadyknowtheanswer.“Iwouldlovetobepartofyourteam.”
Overthenextfewweeks,IfindmyselfbusierthanI’veeverbeen.IapproachFancy,myvettechstudent,abouttakingamoremanagerialroleintheKittyWhisperer,whichshe’smorethanhappytodo.WeagreethatoverthenexttwomonthsmytimewillslowlyshiftfromthreedaysaweekwiththeKittyWhispererdowntotwo,andeventuallydowntoone,whereI’mjustsigningoffonpaperwork—wehiresomeonetotakecareofmostofthat—andreviewingclientfiles.ButIkeeponedayaweekforvisits,becausemyloveofcatsisthereasonIstartedtheKittyWhisperer.
AndasItransition,that’swhatIfindmyselfdoing.Inotonlyspendtimewithmyfelinefriends,butIalsohelpfindthemnewhomes,andIworkwithpeoplewholoveanimalswiththesamesoftheartIdo.
WhileI’mmakingbiglifechanges,soismymom.Sheendsupbuyingasmaller,two-bedroomhouseinthesamedevelopmentasMarieandsellsthehouseIgrewupin.HattieandIhelpherpack.There’scatharsisinsortingthroughourhistory.Andwhilewemightshedsometears,there’salsolaughterandlove,andtheknowledgethatourmemoriesstaywithus.Homedoesn’thavetobedefinedbyaplace,it’swherewefindourstrongestemotionalbonds.It’sasheltercreatedfromlove.epilogueHOLDTHEA-CLAWSMiles
OneYearLater
Iwakeuptothefeelofasandpapertongueonmycheek.Icrackalidandfindtwoblueeyesstaringbackatme.“Youlooklikeanangrygargoyle.”Irollover,butI’mgreetedwithdogbreath.“Whydon’ttheyharassyouinthemorning?”Igrumble.
“Becauseyou’retheonewhogivesinwhenevertheybegforfood.”Kitty’sfrontpressesagainstmyback,andherarmcomesaroundmywaist.
Irollherwayandpressmylipstohertemple.
PrinceFrancistakestheopportunityforwhatitisandplunkshisbuttdownonmychest,continuingwithhisangrygargoyleimpression.Kittygigglesandrubsunderhischin.Heflopsoveronhissideandlandsinthecrackbetweenourbodies.Hestrugglestorighthimselfforamoment,thenrelocatestothepillowsandwrapshisbodyaroundKitty’shead.
Wilfredsetshischinontheedgeofthemattressandgivesmehissadeyeswhilewhimpering.
“Ifeellikewe’regoingtoendupwithreallyspoiledkidsifthesetwoareanythingtogoon.”Myeyesflare,andIlookdownatKitty.“Imeanoneday,eventually,inthefuture.Probablythedistantfuture.Afterwegetmarried.”Ipursemylipsandbitethemtokeepmefromdiggingabiggerhole.
Whilealotofthingshavechangedinthepastyear,myabilitytostickmyfootinmymouthhasnot.
“Areyousayingyouwanttomarryme?”Kitty’ssmileisfullofamusement.
“I’mkindofattachedtoyou.”
Thatbeautifulsmileofherswidens.“I’mkindofattachedtoyou,too.”
ShetipsherchinupandItipminedownsoourlipscanconnect.
“IloveyoumorethanWilfredlovescookietreats.”Islidemyarmunderherandpullhercloser.
“AndIloveyoumorethanPrinceFrancisloveslickinghisballsinfrontofcompany,”Kittyreplies.
Webothsnort-giggle,thengobacktomakingout.
Wilfredpawsatmyarmandwhimpers,whilePrinceFrancisstartsgroomingourforeheads,forcingustobreakapart
“Maybeweshouldhitpauseandfeedthembeforethisgoesanyfurther,”Isuggest.
Kittysighs.“Probablyagoodidea.I’llfeedPrinceFrancis,andyoufeedWilfred?”
Twominuteslaterwe’rebackinbed,thedoortoourroomclosedaswemakemorninglove.It’smyfavoritewaytostartmyday.
Forty-fiveminuteslaterwe’resated,showered,anddressed.KittyandIstandsidebysideinthekitchen,workingaroundeachotherasIfrybaconandshetoastsEnglishmuffinsforoureggsandwiches.
Despitehavingjusteatentheirownbreakfasts,WilfredandPrinceFrancisarealsoseatedsidebysideonthekitchenfloor,theirtailsswingingintandem,hopefulthatwe’lldropsomethingdelicious.Wesitatthekitchentableandtalkaboutourplansfortheday.
“I’mheadingtoTerraCottathismorning,andI’mtakingPrinceFrancisandWilfredbytoseeyourmomwhileI’mthere.”
ThepilotprojectwithAPlaceforPawshasgoneoverincrediblywell.It’sbeenbackedbyseveralcelebrities,includingBritSheers,andthey’redevelopingatrainingprogramsoothershelterscancreatesomethingsimilar.AndtheKittyWhispererhasgrownexponentially,thankstothesupportandhelpofAPlaceforPaws.Wehaveastorefrontnow,withanofficeandstaff,stillbasedinTerraCotta,whereeverythingstarted.Kat’sCatCaféhasbecomepartoftheproject,too,andcatswhoaregoodwithpeopleoftenendupthereontheirwaytofindingtheirforeverhome.It’sbeenamazingtowatchKittygrowasapersonandabusinesswoman.She’saninspiration,andI’mluckytohavehersunshineinmylife.
“That’llbegreat.She’lllovethat.”Thehomehasbeengreataboutallowingpetvisits,andmymomisthrivinginthesocialsetting.“Willyoustopandseeyourmom,too?”
“She’ssqueezingmeinforalunchdatebetweenalltheotherthingsshehasgoingon.”
“SoundslikesomeoneelseIknow,”Isayteasingly.
Sincehermove,Lucile’ssociallifehasblossomed,andshe’smentioneda“gentlemanfriend”thatshe’sbeenoutwithalotrecently.
“Theappledoesn’tfallfarfromthetree,apparently,”Kittysayswithaslygrin.
Wefinishbreakfast,cleanupourdishes,andgetreadytoleaveforwork.KittyandIdressPrinceFrancisandWilfredinmatchingsweaters,sincetodayissupposedtobeonthechillyside.
“Don’tforgetthatwehavedinnerplanstonight,”Iremindherafterweloadourfur-childrenintothebackofherCat-mobile.
“It’sonmycalendar.I’llbehomebeforefivesoIcande-furmyselfandmakethispretty.”Shemotionstoherface.
“You’realwayspretty.”
“Andyou’realwayshandsome.”
Idropakissonherlipsandopenthedriver’ssidedoorforher.IallowhertopulloutofherspotbeforeIhopintomycar.
Iheadtoworkinagreatmood,butI’mdistractedduringpractice,becausemyheadiselsewhere.Thankfully,Joshisontheball,andhepicksupmyslack.Parkerhastrulyblossomedoverthepasttwoseasons.He’soneofthetopplayersintheleague,withanimpressivescoringrecord.TheteamrenewedmycontractforfiveyearsandI’vebeengivenasubstantialraise.IfeellikeI’vefoundmycalling,andthere’srealsatisfactioninknowingthatI’mpartofthereasonwhyourteamhasbeensteadilyimprovingsincetheybroughtmeonboard.
“Tonight’sthenight?”Joshasksasweleavethearenaandheadforourcars.
“Tonight’sthenight.”
“Youneedanyhelpsettingthingsup?”Hespinshiskeysaroundonhisfinger.
“Nope.Butifallgoeswell,I’mgoingtoneedyourhelpalotoverthecomingmonths.”
“I’mreadyforit.”Heclapsmeontheshoulder.“Kitty’ssisterwillprobablybeheavilyinvolved,too,won’tshe?”
Igivehimtheside-eye.“There’saverygoodchanceofthat,yeah.”
Hemanagedtogethernumberafterhehelpedmoveherintoherapartment,butIwarnedhimnottogetinvolvedwithherifshewasjustgoingtoendupasanotchonhisbedpost.I’mguessinghetooktheadviceandbackedoff,becauseasfarasIknow,heneverdidcall.
I’mgratefulthatmydayendsearly.ItmeansIcanpickupallthethingsIneedfortonight,includingapremadedinnerfromKitty’sfavoriterestaurant.ThatwayallIhavetodoisheatitupandnotmakeamessofthekitchen.Iarrivehomeatfourintheafternoon.Ipreheattheovenandjumpintheshower,thenputonfreshdresspantsandabutton-down.
ThemomentKittywalksinthedoor,shemakesabeelineforthebathroom,tellingmesheneedstohaveaquickshower.
Icallafterhertotakehertime.IfeedPrinceFrancisandWilfred,becausethey’llfollowmearoundandPrinceFranciswillyellatmeuntilIgivehimfood,whichisdistracting,andIdon’tneedtobetrippingoverthemwhenI’mrushingaround.
Iquicklysetthetable,lightacoupleofcandles,andputdinnerintheoventowarm.Bythistime,PrinceFrancisandWilfredhavefinishedscarfingdowntheirdinners,soIdressthemupintheirnewoutfits.Ipullthebottleofchampagnefromthefridgeandsetitonthetable.Idon’twanttopopthecorkpreemptively.Justincase.
“Okay!I’mallset!Idon’tthinkIaskedwherewe’regoingtonight.Oh!”Kittycomestoanabrupthaltwhensheseesthesetup.“What’sallthis?”Shebitesherlip,gazeflittingfrommetothetabletoWilfredandPrinceFrancis.Wilfredisbeinghisusualwell-behavedself,sittingbesideme,tailwagginghappily.PrinceFrancishasonelegextendedandislickinghistoes
“Ithoughtwecouldhavearomanticnightin.”Iclaspmyhandsinfrontofme,thenbehindmyback,suddenlynervous.
Kittycrossestheroomandcomestoastopinfrontofme.Shesmoothsherhandsovermychestandlinksthembehindmyneck.“Iloveit.What’stheoccasion?”
Iliftashoulderandletitfall.“Notreallyanoccasion,perse.Imean,I’dlikeittobecomeanoccasion.Butitisn’toneyet.”
Herbrowspulltogetherinaslightfurrow.ProbablybecausewhatI’vejustsaidisconfusing.
“Iloveyou,”Iblurt.
“Iloveyou,too.”
“AndIwanttoloveyoufortherestofmylife.”
Shesmilesupatme.“That’sgood,becauseIwanttodothesamething.”
“Good.Okay.That’sgreat.Thissortofseemsliketheperfectsegue.”
Igetanotherconfusedlook.“Perfectsegueforwhat?”
Iunlinkherhandsfromaroundmyneckandjammyhandintomypocket.Atthesametime,Idroptoonekneeinfrontofher.Unfortunately,PrinceFrancis’stailswishesinmydirectionasIkneel,andhistailendsupundermyknee.
Heyowlsloudly,hisses,andswatsatme,managingtogetthebackofmyhand.Theoneholdingthesmallvelvetbox.WhichIdroponthefloor.ItpopsopenandWilfredlungesforit,probablythinkingit’satoy.
“No,Wilfred!”IdotheonlythingIcan,whichisshoulderhimoutofthewayandcovertheboxwithmybody.Wilfredclearlythinksthisisagame,becausehejumpsontopofmeandstartstryingtonosehiswayunderme,hisdogbreathandhistongueallovermyface.
“Ohmygosh!Wilfred,off!”Kittypullshimback.“Sit!”sheorders.“That’sagoodboy.”Irolloverandsitupandcovertlycheckthesmallboxtomakesurethecontentsarestillinside.Thankfullyitis.
“Areyouokay?Yourhandisbleeding.”
“It’sfine.I’mfine.It’sjustascratch.”IglancearoundtheroomforPrinceFrancis.He’snowsittingonthearmofthecouch,lickinghistail,givingmehisangrygargoyleface.
“Ishouldcheckitout,andweshoulddisinfectit.”Kitty’sexpressionreflectsherconcern.
“Inaminute.YoucanletgoofWilfred.”Igraboneofhistoysfromthefloorandtossitacrosstheroom,thenresumemykneelingpositionandflipopenthebox.
Kitty’sbreathleavesheronawhoosh.“Oh.”
“Kitty,youcameintomylifeexactlywhenIneededyouthemost.”
PrinceFrancismeowsloudlyfromthearmofthecouchasWilfredrushesbyanddropshistoyatmyfeet.
“Letmeamendthat.YouandPrinceFranciscameintomyandWilfred’slifeatexactlytherighttime.”
Wilfredsetshischinonmyoutstretchedarm.Kittybendstopickupthetoyandthrowsitagain.“Andyoucameintoourlivesatexactlytherighttime.”
“Iloveyou,andeverymomentofeveryday,thatlovegrows.Iwanttospendtherestofmylifewakingupnexttoyouandfallingasleepbesideyou.Iwanttoraisefurbabiesandrealbabieswithyou.Iwantyoutobemywife.Willyoumarryme?”
“Youarethemostamazingman,MilesThorn.AndIcan’timaginemylifewithoutyouinit.Iwantallthesamethings,andIwouldabsolutelylovetobeyourwife.”
IlifttheringfromitsvelvetcushionandmanagetogetitonherfingerbeforeWilfredcomesbackagainwithhistoy.Itrytonudgehimoutoftheway,buthelicksmyface,completelyoblivioustothemomenthe’sruining.
“Dude,readtheroom.”Ipushuptoastand,whichmeansWilfredtriestostuffhisnoseinmycrotch.
Kittylaughs,andIdotoo.AndthenItakeherfaceinmyhands,ignoringthescratchesonthebackofit,andpressmylipstohers.“You’reasunriseinhumanform,”Itellher.“AndI’mluckyIgettoseeyoushineeverysingleday.”ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Asalways,thankyoutomyhusbandanddaughter,whoinspiremeendlesslyandaremybiggestandmostamazingsupporters.
Debra,you’rethepeppertomysaltandtheKattomyKitty.
Kimberly,thankyousomuchforhelpingmemoldandrefineeverytaleItell.You’reamazing,andIappreciateallyoudo.
SarahPie,I’mforevergratefulforyourfriendship.Thankyouforbeingsuchasteadfastandamazingsourceofsupportalltheseyears.Hustlers,you’refabulous,andIadoreyou.
LeahandmyteamatForever,thankyoumakingthisbooksuchajoytowriteandrefine.I’msogladKittyandMileshaveahomewithyou.
MyBeavers,thankyouforyourloveoflovestoriesandforsharingmyexcitementforeveryrelease!You’remyfavoriteplacetobewhenI’mnothangingoutinmyimaginationwithmycharacters.
TomybookworldfriendsDeb,Tijan,Trisha,Catherine,thankyouforbeingsuchawesomepeople.I’mluckytohaveyouinmylife.
KrystinandMarnie,thankyouforalwayscelebratingthewinswithme.You’reincrediblefriends,andit’sanhonortoknowyou.
Tomyreaders,bloggers,bookstagrammers,andbooktokkers,thankyouforlovinglovestoriesandforsharingthatlove.It’sanhonortobepartofthisspecialcommunity.
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