Chapter 22
Ihaul the boxes of cat food from the back seat of the Bronco and into the shelter. “Where am I putting these?” I ask Cosy, who’s behind the counter.
“Just in the storage room. I have to go through them and make sure nothing’s expired.
” She’s wearing this adorable gingham top and a pair of jean shorts with her red hair tucked into a matching bandana.
The entire outfit makes the guy across the shelter, playing with kittens, stare every time she leans over the counter to wipe the corners.
Her cherry red outfit is such a contrast to the teal walls of the shelter, and she’s like a beacon for attention because of it.
The shelter is her baby; if she’s not on the pitch, she’s here.
She bought it three years ago when it was a failed Hookah shop, stripped everything down to the bones, and rebuilt it exactly how she wanted it—taking care of every animal in Harbor.
She never says no, never lets an animal go hungry, and she proves every day that the world might be a horrible place, but it’s full of wonderful people.
If she takes in any more animals, she’ll need more space.
The three rooms she has are already near capacity, and the front of the store is starting to collect a few random species that I don’t even think are legal to own in Rhode Island.
But she loves every single one of them the same. It’s endearing and inspiring.
The dude is practically drooling, so I drop the box loudly to startle him before wandering over to her. “You have an audience,” I say, nodding toward the guy.
“Not my type,” she grumbles without looking up.
“What exactly is your type?” I ask, leaning against the countertop and playing with the rack of cat toys hanging in my face.
“Not that,” she cements. The guy isn’t bad; he’s shorter with dark curls and one of those bushy mustaches that look like they tickle.
“You don’t like a little carpet burn?” I ask her, and she finally stops cleaning to toss me a look. “What? Maybe if we get you laid, you won’t be so mean in DND.”
“I get laid a lot…” Cosy laughs. “I don’t need your help, and I’m not mean. The monsters are perfectly suited to your level.”
“Boring,” I yawn and throw my head back. “You got any hamsters in this place?” I ask her.
“Why…” she eyes me. “If you plan to let one loose in Bright’s apartment, count me out. I don’t need to be sleeping with one eye open.”
“Boo, you whore,” I whine, and she laughs.
“How’s Lady Gaga?” Cosy asks, wandering back through the shop.
“I still can’t believe you gave him a snake for his birthday. My Mom had a hissy fit over it.” I groan.
“Worth it.” Cosy snorts.
“He’s fine, Toby lets him out of his cage on a weekly basis, and the house descends into chaos, but they don’t have issues with mice anymore…” I shrug.
“So are you here because you’re hiding from a Saturday with them or because you want to be?” She asks me as she starts to dig through the box. I lower to the floor next to her and help with one, checking the bottoms for expiry dates and setting aside any questionable ones.
“Want to be,” I sigh. Then—because I’m honest—“also hiding. Two birds, one stone. Mom has Reid all up in knots—and you know him, he’s a dick.. So he pushes buttons, she gets worse, and then he closes up more. It’s a vicious circle I don’t want to be trapped in,” I explain.
“That’s the problem, though, Reaper.” She looks up at me. “You are the middle.”
I push over my tower of cans and groan, “This is why I moved out in the first place. Because I don’t want to be.”
“You let them depend on you way too much. Maybe it’s time you stop answering every time she calls crying?” Cosy suggests.
“That would involve starting a fight I don’t have the energy for.” I chew on my lip. I’m just not ready to quit cold turkey, even though the stress is building again.
“Find it,” Cosy says. “Before she starts walking all over you again.”
“What if I don’t answer one day and it’s something serious?” I ask her.
“Your mother is a grown ass woman, Reaper.”
“I know. I know that. I just…” I trail off. “My siblings aren’t, and if she’s falling apart, who’s there for them?”
“You aren’t their mother either,” she adds, “but I get that. You feel guilty, you want to pick up the pieces that she’s unable to carry, but it shouldn’t be at the expense of your own mental health,” her voice goes soft.
“Throttle your help. Give them what you can when you’re around, but don’t overextend yourself because you feel guilty. ”
I open my mouth to say something, and the front door chimes, “I swear if that sketchy guy stole a kitten I’m—” her words die on her lips, and a smile forms. “Look what the cat dragged in.”
“Hi.” Daisy stands in the doorway with August and Lori, all three of them looking like they’re searching for something.
“Where’s your Dad?” Cosy asks her, and Daisy rolls her eyes.
“He dropped me off, but I didn’t tell him August is here…” she eyes me.
“I’m no snitch,” I say, raising my hands.
“I hope it’s okay that I brought them?” Daisy shifts in her t-shirt and jeans. She looks cute, but is very nervous to have August around. Lori, on the other hand, is completely unbothered and is sticking her hands in a bird cage close to her.
“The more hands, the merrier.” Cosy wipes her hands and stands. “Hey, you want to help them? Might clear your head?” She turns to me.
“Sure,” I say with a shrug and follow her out to the front of the shelter.
“Usually, Bright and Daisy walk the dogs on weekends,” Cosy explains.
“They do?” I say, surprised, and Daisy laughs. “That’s cute.”
He would.
“They need adult supervision with them, so do you mind going to the park with them?” She asks me, and I nod. I could use the chaos it brings to make me feel less guilty about not being at home today.
“Hell yeah, Ms. Drake!” Lori lowers her voice and yells, causing all the animals in the shelter to go crazy.
“Who are we taking?” I clap my hands together. Cosy smiles and collects a few leashes and a few dogs, one of the three kids, and two for me.
Roger, a border collie with three legs, Bucky, a black lab, and Sugar, a senior bulldog with a funny attitude that only disappears around Bucky. We make our way down to the park, and the second we’re inside the dog run, the kids have the dogs running in circles.
I find a bench to sit on, and the second I do, the phone vibrates.
Mom. For a split second, I think about answering it, letting her rant, getting it over with for the next few days, but I don’t.
I listen to Cosy, don’t overextend yourself, and I click ignore to enjoy the afternoon air with the kids and the dogs.
“Hey, Rhea?” Daisy’s voice comes out of the blue, and I set my phone down to see her wandering toward me.
“What’s up, D?” I ask her as she sits on the bench.
“Do you think Auggie likes me?” she asks, and I tense at the question. This is a little outside of my pay grade. As a teacher and a roommate.
“Uh,” I clear my throat and follow her nervous gaze to Auggie chasing Sugar in a circle as Sugar chases Lori. “I think he’s a good kid… and he gets really good grades.”
“If I wanted my mom’s answer, I would’ve just asked her again,” Daisy sighs. I look back at her and find her staring aimlessly; she’s clearly pretty frustrated.
“It’s hard to tell with boys,” I start, “you have to be careful. With all of them—even the nice ones,” I explain.
“But I can tell you what I do know about having a crush, and if he does any of these things, then maybe it’s worth talking to him about it.
” I lift my leg and tuck it under myself as I turn on the bench toward her.
“When a boy pays attention, he knows your favorite songs, your favorite foods, and your least favorites. They open doors for you and always make sure that you get home safely. When they make jokes because they know you’ll laugh at them, or they can be silly around you. ”
“Like, they act differently around you in private?” she asks, and I narrow my eyes at her.
“Not like that!” she groans. “Like… texting. And in the band room. Auggie… talks a lot but only to me. He’s quiet around everyone else.”
“Exactly like that,” I say, deadpan. Daisy smiles at me, and her body relaxes a bit.
“And if he has a silly nickname for you that only he uses…”
“Oh… he calls me Leda,” she says and looks over at him. “He said it’s one of Jupiter's moons.”
“Can’t be sure, but I’ve never had a boy call me anything like that, so it’s safe to say the boy has a crush. But you didn’t hear any of this from me.” I point between the two of us and eye her until she pretends to zip her mouth closed.
“Thanks, Rhea.” She stands up from the bench and goes back to playing, but not before stopping to say to me. “Not to make things weird…” She lowers her voice. “But Dad calls you Hellcat.”
He does.
“Just a stupid nickname, Daisy. It’s not the same.
Now, go play before Sugar starts a revolt against Auggie and Lori.
” I shoo her off and shake my head as the sound of him saying it tickles the back of my thoughts.
Roger takes her spot on the bench and puts his head in my lap.
“It’s just a stupid nickname,” I murmur, scratching between his eyes.
“Right?” Roger whines, which is wildly unhelpful.