8. Chapter Seven #2
“No, I meant that I’m going to need a cat sitter,” Quentin said. “If Jessie was interested in the job, I could drop Angus off here the day before I’m scheduled to fly.”
It was a genuine offer, but Joe reacted like it was a trap of some sort.
“That’s very kind,” he said. “But we couldn’t—”
“You’re doing me a favor.”
“You keep saying that.”
“...because you are. Look, I’m obviously not going to take him back to someplace that let him check himself out. The problem is he’s not welcome at any of the other daycare or boarding facilities around me.”
“Why not?”
There was a list.
Actually, there were a couple of lists. Quentin got one stapled to Angus’s severance package whenever he was ‘let go’ from a company. There was, in fact, a file just for them. Right now, he didn’t want to list them all, because it seemed counterproductive to his goals, but in fairness…
“Intimidation, mostly,” Quentin said. “He makes the staff feel bad and upsets the other cats.”
“How.”
They all, even Cody, looked over at Angus. He was sprawled on his side, idly chewing on the fluff between his paw pads. When he felt their attention on him, he gave them a withering look and rolled over to put his back to them.
“Like that,” Quentin said. “Anyhow, so either I end up commuting an extra hour to find someplace to take that furry pill, or I hire a cat sitter. In which case, it might as well be someone I know.”
Joe raised an eyebrow. “Or, you know, a neighbor,” he said. “A friend. Someone who isn’t a…however long…drive away.”
“It’s about thirty minutes,” Quentin lied. He hitched Cody up onto his chest to get his phone out of his pocket to check. It was an hour, but if he counted it from the coffee shop en route, it was... “Yeah, about thirty minutes. That’s about what I drive now.”
“Every day?”
“I usually board him three days a week,” Quentin said. “So technically, me and Jessie would share custody of him.”
Joe looked tempted, but then he shook his head. “It sounds great,” he said. “But I don’t think you would usually be going to these lengths for a cat.”
Cody got a handful of Quentin’s hair and yanked on it. That stung. Quentin winced and reached up to try and pry the little fingers free. It was harder than it seemed. The kid really had some strength going on.
“Oh, having an excuse to see you is a bonus,” Quentin admitted immediately.
The honesty wasn’t what Joe was expecting, apparently, because he flushed awkwardly and went to say something.
Quentin didn’t give him a chance. “But Angus is seventeen years old, and my grandmother asked me to take him before she died. I just spent a week thinking my grandmother’s seventeen-year-old cat had died because I trusted the wrong people to close a door.
A thirty ish -minute drive to put my mind at rest about his well-being? It is not a problem.”
He stopped abruptly and cleared his throat.
His chest hurt, and the back of his nose tasted salty.
He had to clench his jaw until it hurt to get the feeling to recede.
Usually, he could just depend on his reluctance to look weak in front of people to stop him from making a fool of himself, but apparently, his affection for Joe did have some drawbacks.
“Hand him over,” Joe said.
Well, obviously. Quentin wouldn’t want a basket case holding his kid either. He handed Cody back and got a napkin in exchange.
“Blow your nose,” Joe told him.
Quentin rolled his eyes and balled the napkin up in his hand. “I’m not a child.”
“Up to you,” Joe said. “You’ll feel better.”
Quentin doubted that.
“You’ll have to provide his food,” Joe said. “And any medications he takes.”
The sudden capitulation caught Quentin by surprise. “Are you sure?” he said, and then held his hands up to ward off the exasperated look from Joe. “No. I’ll take it. Now we just have to agree on a fee.”
Joe scowled at that.
Quentin had expected he would.
****
It turned out that a week fending for himself had not resulted in Angus losing any weight. Not that Quentin could tell anyhow.
He lifted with his knees and hoisted the hard-shell carrier into the back seat of the car.
“Next time you turn your nose up at fresh chicken,” Quentin grumbled. “I’m going to remind you of this.”
Behind him, Cody pressed his face to the gate, cheek pudge squished through the gaps, and waved.
“Bye,” he said. “Bye, cat.”
The idea behind the words seemed to dawn on him after a few repetitions. He started to well up as he blubbed out another “Bye-bye”. Before he could get too overwhelmed, Joe crouched down next to him, smoothing his hair back from his forehead.
“Angus won’t be gone long,” he said. “Quentin will bring him back for a sleepover in a few days!”
That got a woeful “Bu’ bye” from Cody. The toddler sounded so sad that Quentin briefly considered just letting Angus make a break for it again.
“That’s OK!” Jessie interrupted. She stuck her hand out to Cody and wriggled it excitedly. “He’ll be way more excited to see us then! And we can look up about breed enrichment, toys, and games that cats like.”
Cody probably didn’t get most of that, although Quentin actually had no idea how smart a free-range toddler was, but the excitement in Jessie’s voice was contagious enough to cheer him up.
He wriggled away from Joe, took Jessie’s hand, and they traipsed back into the house.
Jessie half turned on her way to throw over her shoulder.
“I’ll see you next week! I’ll take great care of him!” she promised.
“And draw up that invoice,” Quentin yelled after her. He ignored Joe’s hmph of disapproval.
Jessie gave a cheerful wave of agreement and disappeared inside, Cody scrambling after her. That just left Benjy, who lingered for a moment before he kicked at the ground with the side of his sneaker.
“I got my AirPods working again,” he muttered as he fidgeted his sleeves down over his knuckles. “Thanks for finding them. I’ll be more careful in future.”
“I mean, probably a good idea,” Quentin said as he closed the car door and gave it a firm shove to make sure the latch caught. “I didn’t mind asking about them, but next time you lose them, it might be somewhere without a lost and found.’
Benjy took a deep breath and gave a thoughtful nod. “Yeah, yeah, that makes sense. And don’t worry, I’ll make sure that Jessie takes good care of Angus for you. Scout’s Honor.”
He held up three fingers in a mocking salute and then headed back up the path.
Joe grabbed the top of the gate and pulled himself up. He brushed his hands off and turned to watch as Benjy sloped into the house.
“You know how many times I’ve told him that, and it’s talking to a wall?” he said, his voice mock aggrieved. “You say it, and he acts like it was handed down from on high.”
“I am a pilot,” Quentin pointed out as he walked over to the fence. “With a cool cat.”
Joe snorted as he turned around to look at Quentin. His expression softened for a moment, and then turned guarded as he caught himself. He searched Quentin’s face intently with troubled blue eyes.
“Why are you doing this?”
“I told you,” Quentin said, “having a safe space to leave my cat means—”
Joe put his hand over Quentin’s mouth. His palm, which Quentin’s tongue brushed before he realized he was meant to shush, tasted of peanut butter and lavender.
“Not that,” Joe said. “This. Us.”
Quentin reached up and wrapped his fingers around Joe’s wrist to pull his hand down. Not away. Just enough so he could speak.
“I like you.”
“You’ve said that.”
“Do you think I’m after your money?”
It was meant to be light-hearted. The fact it might cut a little close to the bone only registered with Quentin as he felt Joe try to pull away. He didn’t let him and pushed on as if he’d not noticed the flinch.
“I get why you don’t trust me–”
“It’s not you,” Joe interrupted, his voice firm. He started to say something, stopped, and twisted his mouth ruefully before he tried again. “It’s this. People don’t fall in love at first sight.”
Quentin leaned forward and kissed him. It was a light brush of the lips, sweet and easy and lingering just long enough to know it could be anything but those things. A kiss that took the temperature of what they both wanted.
He felt the tickle of warm breath against his mouth as Joe let out his breath on a shaky exhale. When he pulled away, Joe tried to follow him, only to get pulled up by the gate between them.
Quentin let go of his wrist and reached out to cup Joe’s face in his hand. He dragged his thumb over Joe’s lower lip, wet from Quentin’s kiss.
“Why not?” he asked. “I did.”