12. Seth
Irun to catch up with Aunt Sky, who is walking toward her car. “Aunt Sky!” I call out. She turns to face me, smiling.
“Good match,” she says.
“Thanks,” I mutter. I won based on points—no pin. It still guarantees me the starting spot unless someone challenges me as the season goes on.
“Where’s Gabby?” she asks, looking over my shoulder like she’ll magically appear.
I shrug. “I don’t know.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “Seth,” she begins. Then she stops and bites her lips closed. “Never mind,” she says with a breezy wave of her hand in the air.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing,” she chirps.
“It’s not nothing,” I quibble. I take a deep breath. “I asked if she wanted to get dinner, but she said no.”
Aunt Sky’s brow furrows. “Still?” she asks.
“Still,” I confirm.
“Huh,” she says. But she doesn’t say more. “I need to go,” she says. “Matty and Hoppy are at music class, and I need to pick them up.”
“Music class?” I ask.
“It was Emily’s idea. She said every kid needs music.” She grimaces. “Flute and clarinet,” she explains. “It”s a noise that’s a lot like cats getting their tails caught in doors. Over and over.” She shakes her head. “They’ll get better. If not, I’m sending them to Emily and Logan’s apartment when it’s time to practice.”
“I don’t think she likes me, Sky,” I blurt out.
“Hoppy adores you,” she rushes to say.
“Not Hoppy.” Hoppy loves everyone. She’s natured just like Matt. She sees the good in everything. “Gabby. Gabby doesn’t like me.”
She smiles. It’s so small that it’s barely perceptible, but I know her so well.
“What?” I ask.
Her smile grows. “Do you want some advice?”
“Please.” I shift my feet because I feel hella awkward.
“When Matt wanted to get my attention, he put himself in my way at every turn. He showed up and asked me to go to lunch. He called and texted just to say hello. He kept asking me if I’d fallen in love with him yet.” She laughs. “And I did.” She gets a dreamy look on her face. “I so did.” She heaves in a breath. “I had just come out of a relationship with someone who didn’t care if he was with me or not. He didn’t care if we spent time together or not. He showed up when he wanted to and not a minute more.”
“Why did you break up? Because of that?”
“No, the final straw was that he didn’t want you and your sisters. And I desperately wanted all three of you.”
“You did?” I ask. I’ve never heard this story.
“I didn’t even know the three of you existed. And then Dad asked me if I would take you when your mom died.” She blinks hard. “The first time I ever saw you was the day your mom died. I went to the hospice care center, and there you were. Your sisters were there too, and I took them with me so you could spend those last few minutes with your mom in peace. They were too little, anyway. They didn’t understand what was going on. For months, Joey asked when her mommy would be coming home because she didn’t understand that death was finite. It was the end. But you…” She reaches out and adjusts the sleeve of my hoodie, even though it doesn’t need adjusting. “You knew that your life was about to change. And you looked at me with such pride, acceptance, and genuine sturdiness that I couldn’t not respect that.”
I swallow.
“What would your mom say if she knew you have a crush on a girl who’s not crushing back?” She grins.
I shrug. “I don’t know.” I mean that. I never discussed dating with my mom. I was sixteen when she died. Sure, I’d “gone out” with girls, but that mainly meant talking on the phone and chatting online.
“Do you like her just because she’s saying no? Is it becoming a challenge? Or do you genuinely like her? Could you see yourself making a life with her?” I open my mouth to reply, but she shushes me. “A better question might be if you can see tomorrow with her. Don’t worry about the next day. Can you see yourself with her tomorrow?”
“I can see myself with her every day,” I admit sheepishly.
“Then make it happen,” she says. She punches my shoulder. “That’s the best advice I can give you.” She glances down at her watch. “I have to go get Matty and Hoppy. Call me if you need me, okay?” She steps onto her tiptoes and air kisses my cheek. “I love you,” she says.
I turn with my bag over my shoulder to go to my apartment, but when I get there, I stop short when I see an ambulance outside the entrance.
A frantic voice rings out, “Seth! Seth!”
I look up and see Mrs. Collins, the woman who lives in the apartment next to mine, sitting on a gurney in the back of the ambulance. I walk over because she is determined to get my attention. “What happened, Mrs. Collins?” I ask. “Are you all right?”
“I fell getting out of the stupid shower,” she says. “They think I may have broken my hip.”
Her face is paler than I have ever seen it. Her hair is damp and clings to her neck and forehead.
“Can you take care of Captain Twinkles and Calamity Jane?”
Mrs. Collins has two cats. Captain Twinkles is a hateful bastard who hisses at me when she asks me to come over to help her move heavy things. And Calamity Jane is an accident-prone calico who is a little more than odd. She tends to fall off the fridge every time I’m there. Or she’ll roll off the couch.
“I can take care of them, Mrs. Collins,” I tell her. She visibly relaxes. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be sure they’re okay until you come home.”
“Oh, thank the baby Jesus. You’re a good boy, Seth. Their food is in the cabinet next to the stove. And Captain Twinkles needs medicine three times a day. Don’t forget. If you forget, he’ll die, and I’m sure you don’t want that to happen.”
No, I do not. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Collins. You just focus on getting better.”
“And there’s a roast in my slow cooker on the counter. Please eat it, Seth.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Mrs. Collins is the best cook in the building, and I’ve had a lot of older women try to feed me.
The paramedic gently moves me back, and he closes the doors. I stand and watch as the ambulance pulls away.
I pull out my phone and google “how to give a cat a pill.”
I go straight to her apartment. I open the door, and Calamity Jane falls off the edge of the refrigerator, bounces off the countertop, and lands on her feet on the floor. She gives me a plaintive wail. Captain Twinkles streaks across the room and under the sofa. I lift the skirt on the couch and stare into the darkness. I get hisses, and two beady green eyes shoot death glares at me.
I take out my phone and text Gabby.
Do you know how to give a cat a pill?
Canned cheese. Peanut butter. Last resort—wrap it in a towel and shove it down its throat.
Wrap the pill in a towel?
No, wrap the cat. Whose cat is it?
My elderly neighbor fell and broke her hip. She had to go to the hospital, and she asked me to watch her cats. But I have to give meds to one of them, and it’s under the couch and won’t come out.
Do you need some help?
Yes, please.
I’ll be right there. Don’t boop any snoots until I get there. Or you could have to deal with the tactical talons.
I’m not booping anything.
On the way.
I giveher the apartment number, and a few minutes later, I’ve filled the food and water bowls, and I’ve sorted out what medications Captain Twinkles needs. There are four of them. Luckily, Mrs. Collins has a list of times and medications on the fridge.
Calamity Jane has fallen off the couch twice, but she’s sweet. She has some sort of neurological disorder that makes her unsteady on her feet. She’s adorable, but she’s not stable, even when she’s sitting still. Mrs. Collins has assured me in the past that Janie isn’t in any pain at all. She’s just clumsy.
A knock sounds on the door.
I open it to find Gabby standing there with her hands jammed in the pockets of her hoodie. She has taken her hair down, and it’s in waves around her shoulders. She pulls a can of squeeze cheese from the pocket of her hoodie. “Sheer magic, I tell you,” she says with a grin.
“He’s under the couch,” I say with a jerk of my thumb.
“Well, we can either traumatize him by moving the couch, or we can sit and wait for him to come out.”
“Are you hungry?” I ask. “She said to eat the pot roast.”
Gabby sniffs the air. “Is that what that amazing smell is?”
“Her pot roast is the bomb,” I admit.
“I could eat,” she admits. She sets the can of cheese spray on the counter and lifts the lid of the slow cooker. She inhales deeply. “Oh, my god, that smells so good.”
I take two plates from the cabinet and set them on the counter. Gabby searches through the drawers until she finds some utensils, and she makes a plate for each of us. We take them to the tiny table.
“Do you want something to drink?” I ask.
“Just water,” she says.
We eat in silence for a moment. “Thank you for saving me,” I finally blurt out.
Calamity Jane jumps up onto a chair at the table and sets her paws on the edge like she’s about to jump up. Gabby quickly scoops her up and deposits her gently on the floor. She wails for a moment and goes to the couch, where she tries to jump up but falls. Captain Twinkles comes out to see what the commotion is.
“He’s out,” Gabby says quietly, not wanting to scare him away.
“He’s hateful,” I explain. “He dislikes everyone but Mrs. Collins.” I push my sleeve back and show her the scar on my forearm. “The last time Mrs. Collins went to visit her son, she asked me to watch the cats. I got a scar from it, and I was just trying to pet him.”
“Bak bak bak,” she says, clucking like a chicken.
“He’s vicious,” I explain.
“He doesn’t look vicious.” She gets up slowly and walks over to him. He stares balefully up at her. She reaches down and scoops him up. She holds him tightly and scratches his neck, and I can hear his little motor running from across the room. “He has never been that close to me,” I admit sheepishly. “I’ve never had the balls.”
“He’s a sweetie,” she croons, and the purring sounds get even louder. She whispers, “Can you bring me his pills?” She sits down and lets him stretch across her lap. “And the can of cheese?”
I give Gabby four pills and the cheese, and she takes them from me without startling the cat. She coats a pill with cheese, holds it on the end of her finger, and offers it to the cat. He licks it off with no trouble. She does it three more times.
“All done,” she says quietly. The cat is looking at Gabby like she hung the moon and stars. Calamity Jane has climbed to the top of a carpeted cat tree. Mrs. Collins keeps soft pillows around the base of it because she says Janie falls out of it all the time. “How long are you supposed to stay?” she asks.
I shrug. “She didn’t say.”
I sit down next to her on the couch, and Captain Twinkles backs up and hisses at me. “Sorry, dude,” I say. “I like her as much as you do.”
I look at Gabby and find her cheeks turning pink. “Stop it,” she says.
“Make me,” I reply. She shoves my shoulder, and she settles in next to me, petting the cat, who is tolerating my presence. “You took your hair down,” I say. “It looks nice.”
“It was unraveling a little,” she admits.
“I’ve got to take mine down, too,” I tell her. “Mellie makes them so tight that they give me headaches.”
Her curious gaze skitters across my head. “Do you want some help?”
“Yes, I do,” I admit. Gabby’s hands in my hair? Sitting close to her? I’d be a dumbass to say no.
She turns to face me. “You do that side, and I’ll start on this side.” She grabs a rubber band and pulls it free. Then her hands start to work, slowly loosening each braid all the way from the base of my neck to the crown of my head. “Your hair is so long,” she says.
“My mom liked it long,” I admit. “She liked the curls.”
“Tell me about her,” she prompts. I start talking, and we talk until my eyelids grow heavy, and we have a small pile of rubber bands between us. It feels natural and good. I never talk about my mom, but Gabby listens, occasionally tossing in a comment here and there.
“Your mom sounds like she was amazing,” I hear her whisper softly. I yawn and tilt my head so she can do the last braid on her side.
“She was the best,” I say. And that’s the last thing I remember.