Chapter Seventeen
Hal
We’d been together now for over half a year, and it was rare that we slept in separate places.
More often than not, I stayed at his place.
It was closer to work and a lot bigger, but he’d stay at my place too, and never once did he complain about my shitty apartment or having to walk all the way up multiple flights of stairs to get to me.
To me, it made more sense to spend the bulk of our time at a home that meant something to him, as opposed to a place I signed a legal document to be at. The two just weren’t the same.
After work, I went back to my apartment to grab some clothes and head over to August’s place for the weekend.
The office was closed on Monday. It was the birthday of the man who founded the company, and, from the very first year, he closed for the occasion.
I’d heard lots of interesting stories about him, and he sounded like quite an interesting guy, but he’d been gone a long time now, and no one in the office knew him beyond the lore.
Year after year, the company kept his traditions going.
Not that I would complain about getting an extra day to not work and still get paid.
I packed my unicorn. My bear was already at Daddy’s, along with most of my little things, and off I went.
This time, I was taking my car and leaving it there.
The parking garage I kept mine in was having some structural concerns, according to the sign up at the gate that also reassured us everything was fine.
I didn’t know how “structural concerns” and “fine” could go together, but when August offered to let me keep the car at his place, I wasn’t going to turn it down.
I rarely used it anyway. It took me months to get new tires because I didn’t need them, so even after I had set the money aside, why bother?
When I got to the parking garage and found my car, I was startled by what I initially thought was a squirrel running under it.
Squirrels were a whole different breed in the city.
They weren’t cautious like the ones where I used to live.
They had zero fear of people, vehicles, or anything, from what I could tell.
I put my bag in the trunk, keeping an eye out to make sure he had left.
“Listen, you might as well come out of there, because I’m starting the car.”
It didn’t move. As much as I didn’t love squirrels, I didn’t want to hurt one. I ducked down with my phone’s flashlight on, thinking I could scare it, despite its obvious lack of fear, only to see a little kitten looking back at me.
“Oh, sweetie, what are you doing down here?”
I took him out after a little coaxing and snapped a picture of him in my arms. I sent it with a whole bunch of exclamation points, a few hearts, and some it’s so cute faces that probably meant something else entirely, but they were as close as I could find.
When Daddy and I first started texting, he would tease me about my overuse of emojis and punctuation. I told him to join the list because everyone agreed with him, and I wasn’t going to stop using them now. He laughed and laughed.
I sent a voice message next, telling him I was going to be late because I had to find someplace for this little guy.
There was no way I was leaving him in the garage, even if his mom were here.
The odds of him getting hit instead of being kept safe were astronomical.
The phone rang in response, and I put it on speaker.
“Sorry, I’m probably gonna miss dinner,” I said. I opened the car, sat down, and the kitten curled up on me. “I’m not sure who’s still taking strays this time of day, or really how to do it at all.”
“I wasn’t calling about you being late. I was calling to say just bring him over here. We’ll figure it out together.”
I liked the sound of “together” and agreed, driving carefully to avoid potholes, not needing another flat tire or to scare the poor little creature. I pulled into Daddy’s driveway just as a delivery driver arrived. Looked like Daddy ordered us dinner.
He rarely did that. He didn’t mind cooking, nor did I, although his was better than mine. If we wanted to eat food from somewhere else, we usually went there.
“Let’s go find Daddy,” I said to the kitten, and reached the door at the same time the delivery person did. It wasn’t food. The bags were from a pet store. Huh.
“I got to take a picture before I leave, okay?” he asked. He set them down, snapped a picture, and off he went. Did he think I was going to tell him no?
Daddy came out before the man reached his car. “Oh, good. I wasn’t sure if they would be here on time.”
“I feel like a lot more explanation is coming.”
“There is and the timing of you and the delivery arriving are kind of perfect.” He brought the supplies inside, set them down, and then grabbed his keys.
“I’m really confused right now.”
“I got us an appointment with the vet down the road. Let’s go.”
On the way there, he told me that he’d been waiting for the cat distribution system to work for us ever since I told him I wanted a pet.
“We weren’t even dating then,” I reminded him.
“I know,” he said, “but also that day, even if I hadn’t admitted it to myself then, I knew you were mine.”
I was not into that whole possessive language, except apparently I was, because it had me sitting up happy as could be that someone like August wanted me to be his.
“So you’re going to get a cat because, you know, I want one.”
“No, my sweet boy. We’re going to have a cat.”
He pulled into the vet’s, effectively ending the conversation that had my head going all kinds of places.
The vet gave the cat a clean bill of health, some shots they weren’t too pleased to get, and told us they were old enough to be away from their mom but still needed kitten care.
They sent us home with a bag of so you’ve got a new kitten supplies and pamphlets. It was a lot.
Once we were home, we set everything up, following the directions to a T. As the cat slept on a pillow, we ate our dinner and had the discussion I hadn’t realized was already planned for the night.
“When I said it was perfect timing,” he said, “it’s because…” He got up, opened a cabinet, took out a box, and brought it over to me.
“Because you’re still spoiling me with other presents?”
“Not quite. Open it.”
When I did, there were two key chains, one with an A, one with an H, both of them sitting on a card from the same artisan who made our bracelets.
And on each one was a key. It was the house key.
I already had one. This wasn’t about giving me access; it was about making it official, something he had to have planned a while ago, given the custom key chains.
The unicorn and the teddy bear inscribed on our initials were not stock items.
“What do you think? Stay here permanently?”
“You want me here every day?”
“I’ve wanted you here every day for a long time.
” He took my hand. “I want this place to be ours, not mine. I want that cute little bundle of fur to be ours—not mine, not yours, but ours. I want that bedroom upstairs to be ours. In a nutshell, I want everything to be ours, except for you. I want you to be mine.” He kissed my cheek. “What do you say? Move in with me?”
I took the two key rings out of the box, handed the H to him, and kept the A for myself. I wasn’t sure if he planned it that way, but since I had the power of distribution, I decided that was who it was going to be.
“I’ve already been yours. And I say yes, Daddy, I’d love to live here with you.
To wake up each morning in your arms, fall asleep with you by my side, to take out the garbage on Wednesday mornings while you make breakfast, or make dinner while you have a late meeting.
To be here when I’m big, to be here when I’m little, and to be here when we’re old. ”
“And that sounds perfect to me, my sweet boy.”
A little wannabe meow came from the kitten.
“Sounds like this one agrees. We should probably give him a name.” Daddy scooped him up. “What’s your name, cutie? What should we call you?”
August looked at the cat intently, as if it held all the answers, and then it hit me.
“When I first saw him, I thought he was a squirrel. We could call him that. What do you think? Is that too silly?”
“No. Squirrel is perfect. Welcome, Squirrel. Welcome to our home.”