27. Nadia
27
NADIA
D alton and I call everywhere for two days, looking for a new place. Everything is too expensive, or they won’t let us keep the cats.
I consider trying to part with them and call the rescues again. I even offer to volunteer in their offices, do administrative work to help pay for them.
One of them is willing to take only the kittens, and another only the Mama Cat, but I can’t bear to separate them, so I do nothing.
I’m alone in the apartment on the 16th when I get a hard knock on the door.
I peer out the blinds. It’s Evan from the office, plus a man from maintenance.
They’re here.
What if I pretend I’m not?
I text Dalton as I sit quietly on the sofa, pausing only to occasionally snatch a kitten before it can mess with the blinds and show itself.
Me: Evan and a maintenance guy are here. What do I do?
I don’t expect an answer, but as the time lengthens and there’s another knock, louder this time, I panic a little more.
Me: I know you won’t get a message while you’re with patients and I don’t expect an answer. I’m nervous. They have keys to get in here. That’s probably why Evan brought maintenance.
Miraculously, I get a message back.
Dalton: Grab the cats and go in the bathroom. Turn on the shower. They’ll back out even if they come in.
That’s a good idea. I snatch up the open crate and dump all the kittens and a surprised Mama Cat into it. Catzilla is startled by my sudden movements and dashes under the bed.
Close enough.
I race into the bathroom and set the box down, lunging for the faucets.
I’ve barely got the spray going when the kittens leap out and start sniffing around.
I lock the door and sit by it, listening, petting the cats so they won’t make noise.
Maybe the front door opens. Maybe it doesn’t. The spray is loud.
It’s possible I hear voices. But maybe not.
I wait until it gets steamy and uncomfortable in the bathroom, then I twist off faucets. I’m wasting water.
And I wait some more.
Dalton: Hiding in the supply closet to check on you. What’s happening?
Me: Also hiding. Still in the bathroom.
Dalton: Keep me updated.
I sit there, my panicked brain searching for a solution to our dilemma.
Pitch a tent in Max’s back yard. Get an Air B&B for a few days. A cheap one, if I can find one.
But those things aren’t permanent solutions.
The fact is, I either have to give up the cats or give up living in LA.
Then the answer comes to me.
I don’t like it.
Dalton won’t like it, either
But it’s what has to happen if I want to keep the cats.
I have to go home.
If I do that, Dalton could keep the apartment. Evan could come in to inspect the place whenever he wanted. The cats and I could be gone.
I think and think, but the more I consider it, the more I know this is the solution. My parents love animals, but are currently petless. They have a big house.
When the kittens are bigger, maybe I can give one to my brother Axel, who lives on the other side of the woods from my parents. My brother Court might take a couple of them. They love having barn cats.
My throat grows thick. I pick up Greyson, Pumpkin, Doppelg?nger, and Ferris Mewler. Can I let them go? Tears drip from my eyes.
There’s another risk. If I go home, how long until my family makes me go to work for Pickle Media?
And what about Dalton? I’d be leaving him, living two states away in Colorado. We’re so new. Would he wait for me to come back? Is that too much to ask?
I lie on the rug, the kittens crawling over me.
I’m afraid to leave the room. It’s cozy in here with all the cats. If I go out there, I have to face my decision. Start packing.
Leave Dalton.
I lie back down and Mama Cat walks up to sit close to my head, kneading her paws gently in my hair.
“Thanks for the biscuits,” I tell her, but my voice cracks.
The kittens settle all over me, my belly, on my legs. Ferris curls into my neck.
There’s no hope that they were merely trying to scare us with the notice. They came today, and they’ll come again in a few hours, or tonight, or tomorrow.
I wipe the tears from my eyes. Might as well put the plan into action.
I text Max first.
Me: Got busted with the cats. Going to drive home with them tonight. I’ll come back to help at the deli when you need me, especially when the baby comes.
Max: What? Tonight?
Me: Have to. They already came over to evict us. Going to let my roommate keep the place since he works at the hospital.
I swallow hard at the word roommate . Like Dalton was never anything more. But we never announced it. We didn’t think about it. In our quiet space, it didn’t seem necessary.
Max: You sure there’s no place to go? I could ask around.
Me: For me and six cats? That’s a lot for anybody.
Max: You want me to help you load up?
Me: There’s not much. Dalton will help.
Max: Cam and I are due for a visit to the homestead. We’ll make it sooner rather than later to see how you’re doing.
Me: That will be nice.
Max: Chin up. My dad will come for you now, you know. He’s really pushing for you to go to Florida with your brother.
Me: I know. Don’t tell him yet, okay? I bought myself some time.
Max: You can count on me.
I try to think of what to text Dalton, but nothing comes. He’ll be off this evening. I’m not sure I can avoid Evan or maintenance a second time. How many showers in one day will they believe?
Actually, I’ll explain the situation. Meet with Evan, tell them Dalton and I broke up over the problem, and I’m moving out, but Dalton will stay. If there are any fees, I’ll pay them.
Then I can wait for him to come.
And then I’ll go.
It’s going to suck. And I’m already crying again just thinking about it.
But it’s the only way.