Chapter Two
Slow grin, quick wit. Sharp and silver-tongued
Wild laugh, soft touch. Met you, fell in love
And now all I can think is, you’re lovely, aren’t ya?
Oh, you’re lovely, aren’t ya?
And now all I can dream is, you’re lovely, aren’t ya?
Oh, you’re lovely, aren’t ya?
—US Lyric Bot [@HourlyUs]
In case its name didn’t give it away, The Tiny Tiger’s décor was jungle themed.
The walls of the cat room were painted to look as if you’re outdoors, among swooping vines and lush leaves.
Cat trees shaped like actual trees took up the corners of the room, and shimmering toy snakes and tiger-striped cat beds dotted the floor.
But if you concentrated on those alone, you’d miss everything going on above your head.
Like a real jungle, The Tiny Tiger had a canopy section too. Mom built catwalks that hung from the ceiling so cats could roam overhead and look down at everyone below, or take a whack at the feathered birds hanging off the ramps.
But if the part of the café customers saw was an enchanted miniature jungle, then Mom’s back office was like a dark, scary cave out of Indiana Jones and the Teetering Stack of Paperwork.
“Is there really only one cat room reservation tomorrow?” I whispered to myself, staring down at the schedule.
My eyes skipped to next week, where RENT DUE was written in bright red. A twinge of worry uncoiled in my chest like a live wire—a feeling that hadn’t been unfamiliar lately.
At first, Mom had been hesitant to let me take charge of the café while she was laid up, even though she couldn’t afford to hire any staff.
“It’s a lot of responsibility. It’s okay if it’s too much for you,” she told me. “You should be free to enjoy your last summer before college. You don’t need to be saddled with this so young.”
“You weren’t that much older than I am now when you had me and opened the café. And you did it all by yourself,” I argued. I knew Mom’s doctor bills were expensive too, but I didn’t mention them, since she usually changed the subject when I did. “I want to help; give me a chance.”
I wore her down eventually, and it was a good thing too, because afterward, I heard the Somerset pet shelters were too full—our cats would’ve been left with nowhere to go but the kill shelter located in the next town over.
So I didn’t have any regrets about pestering Mom into this—I just didn’t think I’d be struggling so much.
Half of our regular customers left for summer vacation.
The other half were stolen away by Espresso Inc—a big-chain coffee shop that opened up right down the street just last month.
Apparently, the allure of a larger menu and faster Wi-Fi made up for the fact it was completely soulless and void of any personality. Or cats.
Unfortunately, that meant The Tiny Tiger was mostly void of people.
And money.
“Lucy?” Amber called. She walked by the door, humming an US song and holding a cat in her arms. After a moment, she backtracked, realizing I sat inside. “What’s going on?”
“I know the café hasn’t been getting many visitors, but I think things might be worse than I thought,” I admitted. “Hardly any cats got adopted this month.”
Closing tomorrow’s reservation page, I took a peek at today’s earnings. It didn’t look good. “Mom says she runs this café because she likes cats, not cash. But, unfortunately, I’m pretty sure we’re supposed to care about the cash part too.”
“Yeah, it’s been getting emptier in here lately.” Amber frowned, adjusting Figgy in her arms. The gray tabby wrinkled his nose. “I rarely have to hide from customers anymore. Never thought I’d miss that.”
Instinctively, I reached into my pocket and pulled out my pack of watermelon gum. I popped a pink stick into my mouth, chewing anxiously, before offering one to Amber.
Amber made a face. “Ew, no. How many have you gone through today?”
“Uh . . . five?”
“You must be really stressing.” Amber leaned over the desk to look at the numbers, along with Figgy, although I had a feeling only one of them was doing any sort of math. “You know what you need?”
“A million dollars, a brownie, and someone to tell me I’m not screwing everything up?”
“Okay, I can’t help with number one or two, but three: You’re not screwing up, okay? You’re, like, the hardest-working person I know. You were valedictorian for a reason,” Amber reminded me.
“Writing an essay on Charles Dickens was so much easier than this,” I groaned. All my A-pluses were taunting me now. How did grown-ups do this? “Good old Charlie can’t help me now, unless I take a page out of Oliver Twist and have Rumple teach the rest of the cats the fine art of pickpocketing.”
Amber blinked at me. “Your go-to idea for money problems is feline thieves? Are you sure you want to major in biology when you go to college so you can use your bachelor’s to get into vet school?” she chided. “Maybe you can take creative writing instead.”
“Stop,” I protested playfully, unable to stay mad as she grinned. “You know I worked extra hard in my science and math classes just for this.”
Going off to college and eventually becoming a vet was something I’d wanted for years. So why did leaving now seem so wrong?
“Lucy?”
Caught off guard, I turned to see my mother in the office doorway, leaning awkwardly on her crutches.
“Mom, what are you doing here?” I asked in surprise, immediately standing and wheeling the desk chair toward her. “Sit.”
“Lucy, I’m okay,” Mom said, her tone half-soothing, half-scolding. “You don’t need to worry.”
But despite her telling me that, she sat anyway, and I couldn’t help but watch her carefully, holding my breath as I held the chair steady.
She’s fine, I reminded myself for the millionth time.
“How did you even get here?” I asked.
“Well, the doctor made me promise I wouldn’t drive my car, but he didn’t say anything about driving someone else’s.
So when the UPS man left the truck idling, I figured, Why not?
and took it for a joyride,” she replied easily.
“I must say, I think I did quite well. I only ran over two mailboxes and a signpost.”
Amber chuckled, and my own lips ticked upward at the corners, happy to see Mom’s injured leg had done nothing to dull her sense of humor today. Some days, it felt like it had.
“I had my Uber drop me off here after my doctor’s appointment,” Mom admitted, reaching over to pet Figgy fondly. “You know I can’t stay away from this place for too long.”
“I know.” I felt the same way about being here with the cats.
“Now, how’s the café?” Mom asked, getting back to business. “What’s the total for today?”
I hesitated, not wanting to tell her the bad news, and Amber jumped in. “We finally got another cat adopted out, Diana! Snickers found a home with a really nice girl. I could tell it was love at first sight.”
“That’s wonderful,” Mom gushed. “That’s the best part about this job, isn’t it?”
“It really is.”
Mentally, I subtracted my daily wages and added it to the total of what we’d made today. Ever since freshman year, Mom had given me a paycheck like a regular employee because she said I deserved it with the work I put in, and other teens got allowances, anyway. But I didn’t mind giving it up.
“Here,” I said, scribbling down the new number in Mom’s business book and handing it to her.
Guilt flooded me. Mom and I had always been close—like Lorelai and Rory from Gilmore Girls close—and I’d never lied to her about anything big before. But I changed the total to help her, so there was no harm in that, right? Mom shouldn’t worry about the café when she was already in pain.
Mom nodded at the total thoughtfully. Amber did too, with a side-eye at me.
I masterfully pretended I did not see it.
“Wow, we’ve really slowed down this summer,” Mom muttered. “I think things will pick up in the fall. We just have to make it there.”
“We will,” I promised. “I won’t let you down.”
But I needed to figure out how.