Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81076 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81076 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
“I love them,” she says. “And I’ll become one with you someday. But let’s wait until we’re old and gray and our husband and wife are so sick of our shenanigans, they’ll be glad to get rid of us for a few months out of the year. And let’s always come home to the people who love us.”
She pulls in a breath, continuing in a softer voice, “Because love like this is special, Matty. I know you think our family is overbearing. I used to feel the same way sometimes, but that was before Mom came over every morning right after Ben left to drag me out of bed and brush my teeth if I needed her to, if I was that depressed on a particular morning. Before Drew and Sarah Beth went out of their way to include me in their Sunday playground plans when they knew I was alone. Before Barrett started bringing me coffee at work on Friday afternoons to check in on me. And before you dropped whatever you were doing and rushed over to help me with toddler tantrums and bedtime monsters and whatever random home appliance I’d managed to break on a given day. We can’t do life alone, Matty. I mean, I guess we can, but it’s so much easier with people you love around to keep your head above water.”
Before I can reply, she lets out a soft bleating sound, “Oh, shit, speaking of head above water, I need to go grab my big flowerpots by the driveway, just in case the water gets that high. I’m sure I’ll kill all my plants next year, too, but at least I won’t have to buy new pots to do it. Love you. Call me if you need me and please stay safe.”
“Will do,” I promise and end the call.
Afterward, I stand in the bathroom, thinking about everything she said and wondering if maybe I’ve been wrong about needing to leave Bad Dog to find myself. Maybe the real me has been here all along, hiding in plain sight, and I just need to let down my walls and let the people I love show me I’m still the same person I was before all the secrets and my very unusual job.
And maybe Nora could be one of those people…
Because hell, I really like her. Maybe even more than like her.
I’m about to head back into the bedroom and show her just how much I treasure her company, when she lets out a shriek. Grabbing the closest possible weapon—a hairdryer on a shelf above the toilet—I run back into the room to find Nora hovering over a panting Clyde and a pink stain on the white duvet cover.
Nora looks up, her eyes wide. “I think Clyde’s dying! He just started moaning and bleeding!”
Glancing down at the cat’s round stomach, I’m struck by the prominence of Clyde’s pink nipples beneath his thinner stomach fur. And yes, both male and female cats have nipples, but Clyde also has a swollen pink area near his tail that clearly isn’t a wang.
Which means…
“I think they stole the wrong cat,” I mutter, setting the hairdryer down on the bureau beside me.
Nora’s eyes go even wider. “Did you hear me, Matthew? Clyde is dying! We have to get him to the vet. We can worry about if he’s the right cat later.”
Fighting a smile, I tell her, “It’s okay. Clyde isn’t dying. She’s having babies.”
Chapter Nineteen
NORA
Babies…
Kittens…
Clyde is having kittens!
As soon as the news penetrates, a smile breaks across my face, and a joy I’ve rarely felt when not in the presence of rare vintage clothing or my loving, but obnoxious family fills my chest.
“Oh my God!” I cover my mouth with my hands to muffle my squeal of excitement—I don’t want to upset Clyde now that her big moment is here.
Matty laughs, looking nearly as thrilled as I am. “Yeah. Not the best timing, but I bet they’re going to be the cutest things ever.” He lifts his cell. “Let me call Barrett and see if he has any advice for us. I know he’s a human baby doctor, not a vet, but maybe the basics are the same?”
“Oh, I bet they’re not,” I say, easing off the mattress with a final gentle stroke of Clyde’s panting head. “I’ll call Starling and ask her. She works at an animal shelter and loves everything furry. I’m sure she’ll know what we need to do next. And whether or not we should head to a vet.”
“Good call,” Matty says. “I’ll do some googling and find the closest emergency vet practice. Just in case.”
“Perfect,” I say, adding in what I hope is a soothing whisper to Clyde, “Don’t worry, darling. We’re going to take care of you and your babies. I promise. And you’re going to be the sweetest, burping little mama there ever was.”