37. Foster
THIRTY-SEVEN
FOSTER
I thought about Sophie’s text until sleep finally took me into dreamland. But even there I couldn’t escape it. Sophie beaming at me telling me she’s pregnant, me crying and sweeping her off her feet. A slideshow of beautiful possibilities until I woke at four a.m. wondering how the hell I was going to afford a baby, hypothetical or not, on an EA’s salary. You should have gone back to real school , I can hear my mom saying.
I’d gotten up, put on my running stuff, and hit the pavement well before the birds had even begun to sing. And now as I turn the corner back to my apartment, I feel like Sophie has thrown a big ol’ wrench in my plan to not get too attached. Although I’m delusional if I think I’m not attached. She had me hooked from the first smile she sent in my direction.
Gary doesn’t greet me at the door, and something immediately feels off. I don’t bother taking my shoes off as I walk further into the apartment. He’s by the window, in his usual spot, but he’s flat on his side. I can see that he’s breathing, but the squirrel is sitting outside and Gary doesn’t seem to care. I’ve never seen him not take issue with his nemesis, so alarm bells start going off in my head. Without thinking I pull my phone out of my pocket and immediately dial Cass’s number.
“Someone better be dying,” she croaks. “Or dead.”
“It’s Gary. I think something’s wrong?”
Now fully awake, she fires off questions, “What’s he doing? Is he puking? Does he have the runs? Lethargic?”
“He’s breathing, flat on his side. But the squirrel is at the window, and he’s not losing his mind like he usually does. He also didn’t meet me at the door, and he always does.”
“Did he eat something he shouldn’t have? Anything new missing?”
I look around unsure of what he could have eaten that would cause him to be sick or in pain, or both. “Not that…” I stop abruptly and walk to the coffee table. Sophie had taken her hair out of an elastic last night because it was giving her a headache. She’d left it on the table, but it’s gone now. “I think he may have eaten Sophie’s hair elastic.”
“Get him to the emergency vet right now, Foster.” Cass’s tone is serious, and because it’s rarely serious I’m already pulling his carrier down from the closet before she even gets to my name.
When I pick him up, he yowls at me. “Sorry, bud.” I wince as he lets out another sorrowful meow.
“That’s an unhappy cat,” I hear Cass say from where my phone is sitting on the chair next to me. “Okay, there’s an emergency vet on Rymal. I sent you the address. I’ll call and tell them you’re on your way. Are you going to be alright?”
“Thanks. I’ll be fine.” I’m a bit calmer now knowing there is somewhere I can take him.
“Keep me updated.”
“Will do,” I say before hanging up, grabbing my keys and running out of my apartment.
It’s six thirty a.m., and I’m the only one sitting in the waiting room. The magazines are all from at least six years ago, everything and everyone within their pages already old news. I’ve paced so much my watch has congratulated me on reaching my step goal for the day and then suggested I take a break.
I’m about to get up and start pacing again when the front door opens and Sophie rushes in. Her hair pulled back and lopsided, pieces of it coming out everywhere. Pajama pants with little stars peek out beneath her long coat, like she’d gotten the call and come here straight from bed. My heart stutters at the thought of her rushing to be by my side for my cat.
“Oh my god, how is he?” she frets breathlessly, sitting in the chair next to mine.
I blink back stupidly. “What are you doing here?”
“Cass called and said there was an emergency with Gary, then she sent me the address and”—she looks around as if realizing where she is for the first time—“I guess I’m here now.”
“You didn’t have to come,” I assure her even though I’m the farthest thing from upset that she’s here right now.
She scoffs, rolling her eyes. Why is that so sexy? “As if—” The door to the back opens, and a tall man wearing scrubs and a lab coat walks toward us.
“Mr. Walsh?”
I stand, Sophie joining me. “Yes?” I ask anxiously.
“I’m Dr. Jacobs. Gary has a bowel obstruction.” He turns the iPad he’s holding toward me. “Right here.” He points at the X-ray. “Unfortunately, it looks like our only option for treatment will be surgery.”
“Okay, do whatever you need to do,” I confirm.
He looks back toward the receptionist who rounds the counter with a clipboard. “We’ll just need you to sign a few things.” I must look like I’m about to puke because Sophie squeezes my arm while Dr. Jacobs assures me that it’s a pretty standard procedure when it comes to cats. But it’s still a surgery and therefore involves risks. “Gary appears to be in excellent condition aside from the obstruction, so I’m not overly concerned about how he’ll do under anesthetic.”
“Okay.” I nod, sitting so I can begin filling out the form.
“Do you know what the obstruction is?” I hear Sophie ask.
“I can’t really make it out, but if I had to guess it’s string or an elastic.” Sophie’s gasp has me adding an extra-long line to the cross on the end of “street.”
She’s got her hands on her head, looking horrified. “I left my elastic at your place.” Her eyes immediately fill with tears, and I can’t get rid of the clipboard fast enough as I pull her into my arms. “Oh my god, this is my fault,” she murmurs into my chest.
“No, Soph,” I say, sliding my hand into her hair and pulling her tighter against me. “He’s never done anything like this before. I saw it there and didn’t think anything of it.”
I look over at the vet only to realize he’s gone. When Sophie pulls back, I don’t hesitate to take her face in my hands, running my thumbs over her cheeks to wipe her tears away.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, sunshine,” I say as soothingly as I can.
“I’m sorry.”
I pull her back in and rest my lips on the top of her head until her breathing returns to normal. “I really need you not to be sorry.” I have a feeling she was blamed for a lot in her relationship with Gregory. He doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who takes responsibility for much.
“At least let me pay the bill,” she pleads.
“Yeah, not a chance, sunshine,” I argue as we sit back down and I pick the paperwork back up. I don’t miss the look on her face when my words land. Indignant mixed with shock, and I can’t help but chuckle as I complete the form.
I know this is going to be pricey, but I’d saved everything I made in Korea and have some inheritance left from my dad’s parents. It’s not going to last forever, but it means I can afford to keep my cat alive without going into debt. As long as he doesn’t make this a habit.
When I give the form back, I’m told that I can go home and they’ll call me with an update later in the morning. When I let Sophie know she can go home, she insists on driving me because apparently I look “done in.”
“Why don’t you come up?” I suggest when she pulls up to the curb.
“Oh, you should probably get some sleep.”
I look over at her skeptically. “Do you really think I’m going to get any sleep while I don’t know what’s going on with Gary?”
She studies me for a minute before shaking her head. “No, I suspect you’ll pace or go for a run.”
“I already had a run today. If you come up, you’ll keep me from running myself into the ground. You’d be doing me a favor.” I reach over and squeeze her hand and watch her look down at where we are connected. “I insist.”
She peers up through her lashes as she worries her lip. “Well, if you insist.”
I take her hand the second she rounds the car, threading my fingers through hers, relishing the feeling of her skin against mine. I hold it in the elevator and as I unlock my door, and the minute we’re through it I wrap my arms back around her and laugh at the little yelp of surprise.
“Thank you for coming to check on me and for coming back with me,” I whisper.
“Of course. I wasn’t sleeping anyway.”
I step back, resting my hands on her upper arms and really look at her. She looks more tired than she had under the lights of the vet’s office. She offers a sleepy smile and then fights a yawn.
“Come on.” I take her hand again and lead her toward my bedroom. I expect her to slam on the brakes, but she follows without any hesitation. We stop at the end of the bed, and I turn and unzip her coat before sliding it off. She’s got a thin long-sleeved henley on, and I have to look away immediately when I realize she isn’t wearing a bra.
Tossing her coat on my dresser I gesture for her to lay down. Again she does so without hesitation. After removing my own coat, I join her.
“I should shower,” I say. “I probably reek.”
She shakes her head. “You smell surprisingly good.”
“Liar,” I tease.
“I’d never lie to you.”
I take a chance that if I ask her something right now she’ll be upfront. “Why couldn’t you sleep?”
“It’s dumb.” She shakes her head and rolls onto her back.
“Talking about dumb stuff is as important as talking about the serious stuff.”
I watch as she swallows, eyes glued to the ceiling, and I think she’s about to shut down. “Gregory’s girlfriend is pregnant,” she blurts out. “Due in October. It’s a boy.”
Her question from earlier makes sense now. “That’s not a dumb reason, Soph.”
She blinks rapidly, and I see a tear slip down into my pillow. I want to wrap myself around her but I stay put, giving her space to collect herself.
“Three years ago, I got pregnant.” The words tumble out of her. “It wasn’t planned, but I was so excited. I’ve always dreamt of being a mom. But Gregory insisted I terminate the pregnancy because he didn’t want kids. He acted like I’d gotten pregnant on purpose and twisted it so much that at the end I almost believed he was right. That I had somehow tried to trap him with a baby.”
Like with your own kids?
Do you want kids?
Crap.