25. Nadia
25
NADIA
“ Y ou’re singing.” Jeannie’s words are an accusation. She punctuates it with a hard thwack of a knife, cleaving the end of an onion from the rest of its bulb.
“Sorry.” I reduce to a low hum as I slice pickles in the deli kitchen.
“Is that an overwrought ditty from a sappy movie?”
The song is “Till There Was You” from The Music Man , but I don’t think Jeannie is really asking for a title, so I simply say, “It is!” and keep slicing.
The kitchen door opens. I look up, expecting to see Vera or Geneva replenishing the line, but instead, it’s Hex.
What does he want? I’m about to let him know I’m with someone when he shoves a fistful of flowers close to Jeannie’s face. “I brought you these.”
Jeannie takes a step back, wrinkling her nose. “If you get pollen on my onions, by God I will use your face to chop a new batch.”
I bite my lip to keep from laughing. I had forgotten that Hex had taken a shine to Jeannie when I turned him down after the hospital incident.
Hex is undeterred. “I will put them in Max’s office.” He hurries off.
“Where they will die a lonely death,” she mutters.
I transfer my sliced dills to a bin. “Not much into romantic gestures?”
She aims the pointy end of her knife at me. “Entanglements are a distraction. I am a bastion of focus.” She glances at my bin. “Double that.”
“Aye, aye, captain,” I tell her, pulling additional pickles from the bucket.
Hex returns. “With my gifts bestowed, I will take my leave.” He bows deeply, bent over so that his head is even with the counter, which looks hilarious on his enormous frame in a T-shirt and gym shorts.
“Next time dress better,” Jeannie says.
His face lights up. “I will.” He seems chuffed that she has hinted that he should return as he passes back through the door.
“You practically proposed marriage, you know,” I tell her. “He was only expecting to be thrown out.”
She frowns. “I was trying to insult him.”
“He caught you off guard.” I want to laugh at this entire situation, but I know better. It’s cute. I’m rooting for Hex.
I finish my pickles and carry the bins to the walk-in. I came in early, so I’m officially off duty.
When the gloves are in the trash and my apron is in the laundry pile, I collect my purse and head out the back door.
The sun is shining broadly, and I feel so happy I want to skip. Dalton won’t be home, not until tomorrow morning, but there are kitties to play with, food to cook, and a day with him to look forward to.
Is this love? I wonder. My body is light, like I’m not quite walking on the ground.
Jeannie noticed. I have told no one about Dalton’s move from roommate to lover. But maybe it’s becoming obvious. And I almost told Hex right in front of her.
I should tell my family.
No, they might judge me. The roommate situation was bad enough.
I can imagine my dad giving me a speech. “Nadia, you’re being irresponsible and flighty. You barely knew this boy when you moved in, and now you’re in love? What has gotten into you?”
Mom would get it. She’s a romantic.
Probably not Max, though. I better keep it to myself for a while longer. When a few months have passed, it might be all right to say we’re dating. It will make more sense.
I open up my Jeep, patting the little rubber ducks Dalton has been leaving on my dash. I didn’t even know Jeeps and ducks were a thing until he left the first one, tiny and bright and decorated with a smattering of red hearts.
That one has been joined by a duck holding a black kitty, and another reading a book.
Our life together, in ducks.
I play the soundtrack to The Music Man as I drive home. Dalton and I watched it a few nights ago. I don’t think he’s into musicals, but he is into me, and that’s enough.
I feel so lucky. How did this happen? So what if I’m working in a deli? I’m paying the bills. The future can wait.
It occurs to me that I could end up a doctor’s wife.
Whoa.
Slow down, girl. You’re in the glory days. The easy part.
But as the colorful awnings of bright shops whiz by, anything seems possible.
When I pull up to the slot near our apartment, I peer through the windshield. Did some paint come off the front door? There’s a strange triangle of white.
I jump out of the Jeep. Only when I get closer do I realize it’s a piece of paper flapping in the breeze. A notice.
It could be anything. Painting the railing. Pest control. Upgrading an appliance. Routine maintenance.
But my belly quakes just the same.
I reach out and pull it down. The cats have heard my footsteps and meow for me to come in.
But I wait a moment so I can scan it.
Dear Residents of Apartment 1405 :
It has come to our attention that you have pets. Under the terms of your rental agreement, all pets must be approved by management and be accompanied by a deposit and a monthly rental fee.
Additionally, your pets violate the following terms:
I scan the list.
Over 50 pounds.
Banned Breeds.
There is a check mark halfway down.
Number of pets exceed the limit of two.
I glance up. How did they know?
Next to the door, the lone window to the outside winks at me. It’s the white blinds, moving back and forth.
What in the world?
I step closer.
A white paw peeks between the slats, moving them aside. Then a face. Ferris Mewler.
“Ferris!”
Soon he’s joined by a gray face. Greyson. Then a flash of orange. Pumpkin. Then a black set of ears. Doppelg?nger.
So that’s what happened. The kittens discovered the window. Someone walked by. Maintenance. One of the office workers. And they knew.
Since I can see where the kittens are, I quickly unlock the door and dart inside.
Mama Cat and Catzilla lie together on the sofa. The kittens turn to me, leaping from the sill to the arm of the sofa. They got big. They got brave.
They got busted.
I sit on the sofa to read the rest of the notice, quickly swarmed over by cats.
Pursuant to your rental agreement, you must immediately remove the pets from your premises or pay the deposit and fees, and comply with any additional violations.
Your apartment will be inspected on September 16 . If you are in violation again, you will be evicted with no refund of your deposit.
That’s in two days! I can’t re-home the cats that quickly!
I glance over at Catzilla and MC. They are licking each other.
How could I separate them? Catzilla is so happy to have a bestie.
Hopelessness washes over me. What will I do?
I unlock my phone to text Dalton.
The cats have been discovered. I have two days to remove four.
Tears drip onto the smooth surface. What will we do?
I don’t expect to hear from him right away. If he’s seeing a patient, or under direct scrutiny by a supervisor, he won’t risk even checking it.
The kittens circle my lap, meowing for attention, for treats, for food.
I carefully extricate them from my jeans and fill the line of bowls. The adult cats watch as the kittens guzzle their dinner. I always feed them separately as the hungry babies will steal their adult kibble otherwise.
When they are settled, I lean against the bar, looking over the room.
I don’t know what’s next for me. All I do know is that these cats are mine. My kittens. My family.
But we can’t all live here.