ONE PAW AT A TIME Kitty
I
t turns out Miles has a lot of moves. And we try out several of them. It also means we stay up ridiculously late.
Needless to say, this morning I’m not particularly rested, but I am definitely feeling good. Better than good. I’m on cloud nine, skipping down post-orgasm high road. Miles and I go out for breakfast to my favorite greasy spoon. He gets a giant stack of pancakes, and I order the eggs benny.
“There’s no way you’re going to be able to eat all of that.” I point to the mountainous pile of pancakes. They’re layered like a cake, with strawberries and whipped cream between each one.
“You gave me quite the workout last night, and this morning, Kitty, you’d be surprised at how much damage I can do.” He winks and I blush.
“Do you want some help packing up your mom’s place? Do you have a plan for what you’re going to do with the house?” I pop a bite of eggs benny into my mouth. I’m trying not to shovel
it in my face at warp speed, but now that I have food in front of me, I too realize how famished I am. Instead of eating dinner last night, we devoured each other.
“I might need to put it on the market, unless I can find a long-term renter. There’s no mortgage left on it, thankfully, but my mom’s pension from her job isn’t going to cover the full cost of her care because she took early retirement. Selling the house would help, but obviously it would be better to rent it so we can keep the capital where it is until she absolutely needs it.”
“It would be a good home for a family with small children, or a retired couple,” I muse.
Miles nods. “Part of me just wants to get rid of it because of all the memories that were tied up in that house, but now . . . I don’t know. I’m starting to see it a bit differently.” His grin turns sly. “And recently I’ve made some pretty good new memories in there.”
I smile and duck my head. “I’m glad there’s some good in all of this for you.”
“Me too.”
We finish breakfast and head back to the house. I pack up Prince Francis and all his belongings and we load them into my car. It’s better for him if we’re not trying to pack the house while he’s still in it. I haven’t talked to my mom yet about keeping him, but I figure I can spin it as a temporary thing and then ask forgiveness later if it becomes permanent.
Miles has afternoon meetings, and there’s a game tonight, so he walks me out to my car and kisses me goodbye. “I’ll text you later.” He dips down and kisses me again.
I run my hands over his chest. “Okay. Sounds good.”
“If there wasn’t a game tonight, I’d come back here,” he says.
“That’s okay. I know it’s not practical for you to drive out here all the time.”
“You could come to my place, though. The game should be done by nine. I can be home by nine thirty.” His face lights up, like it’s the best idea he’s ever had.
His eagerness to spend more time with me is great for my ego. I pat his chest. “I wish I could, but I should get Prince Francis settled at my place. Dropping him off and leaving him isn’t going to win me any prizes with him or my family. I’ll come over here tomorrow night, though, and we can pack up all the things your mom will need at the new home. We can even go there early and decorate for her, so it feels like her space when she arrives. Bring some familiar furniture and the things she loves.”
He smiles down at me. “That’s a great idea. You’re amazing, you know that?”
“So are you.” Prince Francis yowls from inside my car. “I should go before he gets angry and rage poops on my seat.”
“Probably smart.” Miles kisses me one last time, then carefully opens the car door, but only enough that I can slip inside, and Prince Francis doesn’t have time to make a break for it. As soon as I’m behind the wheel, Prince Francis hops up on the back of the seat and stands on my shoulders, his tail whipping me in the cheek as he scratches at the window and meows at Miles.
I buckle in and turn the engine over, then give him a chin scratch. “We’re going to have a sleepover at my place tonight.”
I back out of the driveway, waving one last time at Miles before I head home with Prince Francis draped over my shoulders. I’m in an amazing mood when I pull into the driveway. Both my mom’s and my sister’s cars are here.
I don’t try to put Prince Francis in his cage, opting for a football carry. His little legs flail, like he’s air running. “Just a few seconds and you’ll be able to explore, I promise.” I open the front door—it’s unlocked—and call out as I close it behind me. “Mom! Hattie! I have a surprise visitor!”
My sister comes bounding down the stairs. “Did you bring your boyfriend home with you?” she shouts, skidding down the last few steps. She grabs the newel post and manages to avoid falling on her butt.
“Kitty has a boyfriend?” Mom appears in the foyer.
I give Hattie an unimpressed look. “That would have made things really awkward if I wasn’t alone.”
“Not more awkward than the two of you making out in the middle of the bar for half an hour.”
“It wasn’t that long.” At least I don’t think it was. It didn’t feel that long. Maybe a minute or two.
“What’s this about a boyfriend?” My mom’s face lights up like fireworks on the May long weekend.
“Kitty has a boyfriend. I met him last week when he showed up at the pub. His name is Miles,” Hattie tells my mom, then turns back to me. “Bryce was hella disappointed, FYI. He thinks you’re intergalactically hot.” She makes air quotes around
intergalactically hot
.
“I’m never going to forgive you for seating me beside him. He thinks E.T. is real.”
“How do you know he isn’t?” Hattie quirks a brow.
“If aliens exist, they’ll be way more aerodynamic than E.T. His legs are three inches long. And why the heck does his finger light up? It’s like he’s a distant relative of Rudolph.”
“What is happening right now? Why are you talking about E.T.? And who are Bryce and Miles?” Mom interrupts.
“I went out with Hattie last week. I ended up sitting beside an alien studies major named Bryce, and then Miles showed up. He’s my friend, though, not my boyfriend.” Who I’ve slept with. So
friend
probably isn’t the right term either, but we haven’t put a label on it. Up until last night we were two people who had kissed and were planning to go on a date. Now we’ve upgraded to being naked together, and my private parts have hugged his private parts.
“He’s definitely more than a friend, considering the way you two were playing dueling tongues.” Hattie smirks at me.
“Dueling tongues?” Mom asks.
I give Hattie another look, and she arches one brow and then the other before they both drop down, like an elevator suddenly losing a floor. And then they jump up again.
I look away, feeling very, very exposed. “She’s exaggerating. And he’s taking me on a date next week. Or weekend. I’m not sure. I’ve been sitting for his mother’s cat. Which brings me back to our new houseguest.” I look around for Prince Francis, but he’s disappeared. “Shoot. I don’t know where he went.”
“Where who went? Not the alien?”
“No Mom, there are no aliens.”
“You don’t know that for sure,” Hattie replies.
“I mean in the house. I didn’t bring one home with me. I brought Prince Francis.”
“I thought your boyfriend’s name was Miles. Or was that Bryce? I don’t think it’s a great idea to date three different people at the same time. It sends the wrong message, even if one of them is royalty. Especially if one of them is royalty.” Mom crosses her arms.
“Prince Francis is a cat, not an actual prince. Hold on. I need to find him.” I whistle and reach into my pocket, but I don’t have the baggie of treats I normally carry with me. I rush back out to the car to grab his litter box and my supply of treats, shaking the container and calling Prince Francis’s name. A few moments later he comes trotting out of the kitchen.
“Oh my cuteness!” Hattie drops to the floor, crosses her legs, and pats her knees enthusiastically. “Give me the treats. I want him to love me. How long is he staying? Please say forever.” She holds a hand out palm up, and I set the container in it. She nearly drops it, but recovers before it hits the floor. She places a treat on her knee, waiting for Prince Francis to sniff her out and take the bait. “He looks like a little pink gremlin. Or one of the adorable house elves from Harry Potter.”
My mom has yet to say anything, and I worry that bringing Prince Francis home without clearing it with her first might have been a bad idea. But when I look over at her, she’s smiling, her
attention on Hattie and Prince Francis, who has very quickly surmised that this high-pitched and very excited human has food and is willing to give him lots of it.
I explain that Miles’s mother has dementia, he’s moving her into a home this weekend, and we didn’t want to stress Prince Francis out with all the packing.
“Oh, that must be so difficult. Does he have siblings? How is his father handling this?”
“Uh, his dad lives in BC, his parents divorced when he was a teen. They lost his brother when he was only eight.”
“Oh my goodness. That’s so sad.” Mom’s fingers flutter to her lips.
“It is. That family has been through a lot.”
“It’s so good that you’ve found each other then, isn’t it? You both know what it’s like to lose people you love dearly.” She smiles softly, and her eyes mist over.
“It really is. He’s a great guy.” And he seems to have come into my life at exactly the right time.
“You’ll have to invite him over for dinner so I can meet him.”
“Yeah. Definitely.” I nod vigorously, but it’s one thing for me to tell him that there’s still a place set for my dad at the dinner table every night, and another to witness it. I’m starting to see how narrow I’ve made my world, and how I don’t want to be the reason none of us are able to move forward. Bringing Prince Francis home, even if it’s only temporary, seems like a small but good step in the right direction.
Prince Francis climbs into Hattie’s lap and tries to hug the
package of treats. She picks him up and cradles him like a baby—it seems to be everyone’s go-to move with him. “He needs a sweater to keep him warm in the colder months. Oh! Can we go shopping for clothes for him? Unless he already has sweaters.”
“I found a couple of shirts, but it doesn’t hurt to have more.”
“You can never have too many shirts. We don’t want our naked kitty to be chilly, do we?” Hattie rubs his belly, and he snuggles into her arms. “He’s just so weirdly adorable.”
“He is, isn’t he? And he’s full of personality. We’ll have to keep an eye on your knickknacks though, Mom. When he’s feeling neglected, he likes to tell us by knocking things on the floor.”
Mom’s grin widens. “Just like Smokey used to do. I think it’s going to be wonderful having a cat in the house again. It’s been too long. Does he like tuna? Let me see if I have any cans in the cupboard.”
As soon as Mom is out of earshot Hattie tosses a treat at me and hits me in the knee. Prince Francis jumps out of her lap and rushes over to gobble it up. Hattie makes some kind of mime circle motion around her face. “What the hell is going on?”
“What do you mean?” I try to maintain eye contact, but it’s as if my eyeballs have turned into pendulums and they dart back and forth.
“You’re all shifty-eyed and your face has gone blotchy. Did you stay at Prince Francis’s house last night?”
“You know I’ve been watching him because he’s having a hard time adjusting to being alone.” I scoop him up, using him as an adorable kitty shield.
Hattie hops to her feet and gazelle leaps across the room. Before I can react, she shoves her nose in my hair.
“What are you doing?” I push her away.
“You smell like men’s cologne!”
“Shh!” I poke her in the shoulder. “Can you keep it down, please? I don’t think the neighbors down the street heard you.”
She grabs me by the shoulders, and Prince Francis hops out of my arms, abandoning me in my time of need.
“Look at me, Kitty,” Hattie orders.
I force my eyes to meet hers, but again they dart away a split second later.
“Oh my God.”
I purse my lips.
“Oh my God. Did you and Miles bone?”
I make a face. “Really, Hattie?”
“Did you let him pound your—” She motions to her crotch.
“Why do you have to be so crass?”
“Oh my God, you totally did! We are going shopping this afternoon for cat sweaters and you are going to tell me all about it. Was it good? I bet it was. You two have crazy chemistry. You looked like you wanted to climb him like a tree at the pub, and he got so territorial over you with the arm around your shoulder and the glaring at Bryce. This is so exciting.”
“What’s so exciting?” Mom returns with a can of tuna and a dish.
“Hattie’s happy about having a cat again. Even if it’s temporary,” I practically shout.
“Oh, well yes, I can totally understand that.” Mom smiles when Prince Francis trots over and winds himself around her legs, meows, and flops over on his side, showing her his belly. “What a flirt you are.” She crouches and gives him a chin rub before she sets a small dessert cup in front of him containing flaked tuna.
The three of us watch as he gobbles it up. I bring the rest of his gear into the house and set his litter box up in the basement. The cat door from when we had Smokey still works, so I show Prince Francis how to use it and let him sniff around, checking out his new surroundings room by room.
Eventually I take him upstairs to my bedroom, where he explores for a few seconds before trotting off down the hall. Hattie steps into my room, wearing a ridiculous grin.
“Why are you so excited about this?” I can feel my face flushing. I wish my embarrassment could stay in my head and not be so obvious.
“You have a boyfriend, and based on how much you’re blushing, he’s not a disappointment in the sack, and now we have a cat to take care of! This is like a day made of awesome! Let’s go shopping for cat sweaters.”
I grab my purse and Hattie grabs hers, and we head downstairs. Mom is sitting in the living room with Prince Francis curled up in her lap, looking like she won the lottery.
“What does Miles do for a living again? Does he have his own place?” Hattie asks as we drive toward the strip mall on the other side of town.
“He’s a data analyst for the NHL, and yes, he has his own
place. He lives in an apartment in the city, which is good, because I obviously can’t bring him home for the night unless I want it to be all kinds of awkward in the morning.” The thought of having Miles stay the night in my bedroom, which hasn’t changed much since high school, is mortifying. “I need to redecorate my room.”
“Or you could move out? Get an apartment? Unless the cat care business isn’t cutting it for you moneywise?” Hattie asks.
“It’s not that. I mean, obviously I’m not going to get rich taking care of other people’s pets, but it pays the bills. Plus I have a few sponsors now, so that keeps costs down and raises my bottom line. And I have some money saved.” A good chunk actually.
“You just don’t want to spend the money on rent?” Hattie presses. “That’s why I went to college close to home instead of living in the city. I want to avoid debt as much as possible.”
“Living at home might not be a party, but it’s financially responsible.” I did the same thing.
“Exactly.” Hattie gives me a small, uncertain smile. “And I know that you’ve stuck around to help Mom with the finances, but the house is paid for, and my college is paid for. You don’t have to keep putting your life on hold to make sure everyone else is okay indefinitely, Kitty.”
Our parents put money aside for our education. Not quite enough to cover tuition fully, especially after Dad died, but with part-time jobs, grants, and scholarships, both Hattie and I were able to walk out of college mostly debt-free, which is huge. And one of the reasons I stayed in the house, even after I graduated.
My mom didn’t want us to walk out of school and into life with loans hanging over our heads.
It means that everything that hasn’t gone into my business start-up has gone in the bank. I have a decent amount of money set aside. It would be tight, but I could probably carry a mortgage on my own. My own place would mean being able to expand my business. “I just . . . I know the internship you have next semester is in the city. And I’m sure it will turn into a job offer.”
“What does that have to do with your own plans?”
“I don’t want to leave Mom on her own.”
Hattie pulls into the strip mall parking lot and finds a spot near the Pet Emporium. They sell everything from food to litter, and they also have an adorable boutique shop with specialty treats and pet apparel. She shifts the car into park and looks at me, still gripping the steering wheel. “Can I say something?”
“I have a feeling I already know what you want to say.” I clutch my purse, which happens to have a cat face on it.
“Want me to say it anyway?”
“Sure.”
“Is it really about not wanting to leave Mom on her own, or about you being afraid to leave?”
“Probably a bit of both, with a stronger lean toward being afraid.” I sigh. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately. Ever since I started sitting for Prince Francis. I look at Miles’s mom’s house and see parallels with ours. His brother has been gone for almost two decades, and his room has never changed. It’s the same as it was when he died. Just like our house is the same. And for a
while it felt comfortable, like if nothing changed, then maybe it would be easier to stay close to Dad, even though he’s gone. But now . . . I don’t know. Instead of preserving his memory, I’m stuck in the past and too afraid of the future to live in the present.”
Hattie reaches over and squeezes my hand. “Well, I think bringing Prince Francis home was a small, cute step in the right direction. It’s a little change, but it’s still a change, Kitty.”
“Do you think by my not moving out or moving forward with my life, I’ve made it impossible for Mom to move on with hers, too?” I ask.
She’s quiet for a while. “No. You can only make your own choices, not other people’s. If anything, it’s symbiotic, and no one’s fault. But I do think that you’ve put yourself on hold for the sake of our family. You and Mom have a bit of a codependency thing going on. And when you’re comfortable with the way things are, it’s hard to see how change can be good. I’m not saying you need to up and walk away, but maybe it’s time for you to focus on your life, so you can both stand on your own a little more.”
“I’ve created this bubble of safety, and now I’m starting to feel trapped inside it.”
“Maybe it’s time to pop it, then.” Hattie gives my hand a squeeze. “You’re an amazing, selfless older sister, Kitty. You’ve been Mom’s helper since you were a kid. And we’re all used to you being that. It’s okay if you want to try on some new hats and see which ones fit better.”