Chapter 37 #2
Within minutes she’s giggling, greeting each one as though they’re guests at a party thrown specifically for them.
“Hello, tiny ma’am. Hello, sir. Oh, you’re very fierce, aren’t you?”
The volunteer smiles. “They like you.”
“I like them.”
“That is becoming apparent.”
Then Lennon notices the pair in the corner.
The boy is pale and marshmallow-shaped, with white feet and sleepy amber eyes. His sister is smaller and fluffier, her fur a soft muddle of silver, cream, and peach.
They’re curled so tightly together they look like a single creature.
“Are those two siblings?” Lennon asks.
The volunteer nods. “Brother and sister. They’ve been together since they came in.”
Lennon crawls closer, moving slowly so she doesn’t frighten them.
The boy lifts his head first.
She holds out one finger.
He sniffs it, decides she’s acceptable, and climbs straight into her lap. The moment she touches his belly, he flops onto his back with all four paws in the air, shamelessly demanding more.
His sister follows.
She burrows beneath her brother’s front leg, lays her head against his chest, and closes her eyes.
I know, in that instant, that we’re done for.
Lennon looks up at me with tears gathering along her lashes.
“Oh my God.”
I lean my shoulder against the wall. “Which one?”
“What do you mean, which one?”
“I mean which kitten.”
She looks genuinely offended. “We can’t separate them.”
“Of course not.”
“We’d have to take both.”
“I gathered.”
Her mouth falls open.
“You mean it?”
“I didn’t bring you to a shelter to emotionally torture you.”
“You absolutely could have.”
“True.”
She laughs, then looks back down at the kittens.
Her fingers move gently over the girl’s head.
“Oh my gosh, just wait until Owen meets them.”
The words leave her before she has time to consider them.
Her smile vanishes.
“Not that I mean to assume anything,” she says quickly. “I know meeting him isn’t something we should rush, and obviously it’s up to you and Priscilla. I don’t want to make anything complicated.”
“Hush.”
Her eyes flick up to mine.
“Of course I want Owen to meet the kittens. And you.”
She goes very still.
“I spoke to Priscilla about it,” I continue. “She thinks it’s a good idea whenever you’re ready.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Even after everything?”
“Especially after everything.”
Lennon searches my face.
“You know Priscilla wants me to have Owen closer to half the time once things calm down. I didn’t bring it up because I didn’t want you to feel pressured.”
“Are you kidding?”
She carefully lowers the kittens onto the blanket beside her, then launches herself at me.
I catch her against my chest.
“I can’t wait to meet your son,” she says into my neck.
Joy hits me so sharply I have to close my eyes.
Then she pulls back, both hands still gripping my shirt.
“I could bring the kittens.”
“The kittens?”
“They’d be a brilliant icebreaker! Owen would love them, and then he might like me too.”
“He’s going to like you without bribery.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
“Children are discerning.”
“He’s four.”
“Exactly. Ruthless.”
I’m grinning like a fool now, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.
“So you want to be around him a lot, do you?”
She shoves my shoulder.
“You know I do.”
Then her smile turns shy.
The change is small, but I feel the weight of it.
“I’m still a little weird about labels,” she says.
“Oh, yeah. Of course,” I jump in too quickly. “We can take this as slowly as you need. I’m not asking you to define anything. I know you’ve just escaped a hell marriage, and the last thing I want is for you to feel like you’ve stepped directly into another—”
“I love you.”
I stop.
The entire room seems to tilt.
A kitten launches itself off the scratching post behind her. Somewhere in the hallway, a dog barks. The volunteer has discreetly moved to the other side of the room and become extremely interested in organizing a basket of toys.
“I’ve been wanting to tell you,” Lennon says.
“You—”
My throat closes.
“Love you,” she repeats.
Her grin grows, but tears shine in her eyes.
I stare at her because I know I’m meant to say something, but for once, there are too many words inside me.
No one has ever loved me… like this. There have always been conditions attached.
Lennon knows everything ugly and damaged and inconvenient about me.
She knows about my ups, and my downs.
She knows there will be days when I struggle to get out of bed and days when sleep seems like an irritating obstacle between me and the hundred things I need to do.
She knows.
And she loves me.
“I love you too,” I blurt.
Her face crumples with happiness.
“A lot,” I add, because apparently I’m twelve years old. “A lot, a lot.”
She giggles, high and bright.
The sound fills the little room.
Kittens crawl over her legs and tumble across the blanket. The marshmallow kitten attempts to climb into her lap again, while his sister attacks the hem of my jeans.
Lennon presses her forehead to mine.
“You’re very eloquent.”
“Shut up.”
“I love you a lot, a lot too.”
I kiss her.
It isn’t a desperate kiss.
There’s no danger chasing us and no one pounding on a door. There’s no fear that this might be our final chance.
It’s soft.
Certain.
The kind of kiss that assumes there will be another one later.
And another after that.
When we pull apart, Lennon looks down at the two kittens tangling themselves around our feet.
“So,” she says. “Mayhem and Goblin?”
I glance at the sleepy cream boy, who has somehow managed to roll off her lap and land upside down.
“Which is which?”
“We’ll know soon enough.”
For the first time in far too long, Lennon laughs without anything wounded hiding underneath it.
And there she is.
My girl with the light in her eyes.