Ch. 4 – Rico
R ico slumped in the passenger seat of the Channel 7 news van as it rumbled down Chaparral Drive, past quaint coffee shops, yoga studios, and a wooden ship turned into an antique shop.
“Nice town,” Chuck mused as he tapped the brakes at a crosswalk. “It’s, what’s the word . . .” The grizzled cameraman pondered as several people ambled across the street. “Charming. We’ve got a right charming town here.”
If only you knew the half of it, Rico thought glumly as he gazed out the window.
Teresa—ex-intern and spurned ex-fling—must have secretly been a witch and put a curse on him. How else to explain why he was wasting his esteemed reporting talent, not to mention an entire Friday morning, covering a bunch of mangy kittens in his old hometown?
And, of course, his mother—number one fan and top social media stalker—had found out about his visit and insisted he stay the weekend. Rico loved his madre, but he’d outgrown Yucca Hills long ago. This town held nothing but memories he’d rather forget.
Chuck turned onto a meandering side street and pulled the van into a small parking lot. Rico squinted out the windshield at an adorable little shop called Pet Palace .
“So, where do you stand on the great pet debate, Torres?” Chuck asked as he turned off the engine. “You a dog guy or a cat guy?”
“None of the above,” Rico scoffed as he threw open the door and hopped out of the van. “Never saw the point. Pets are so needy. You’ve got to walk ’em, play with ’em, take ’em to the vet. Not to mention pick up their shit. No thanks.”
Chuck pulled open the side door of the van and shook his head. “You’re a sad little man, Torres.”
Rico prickled with offense. He was not little! Not anymore. In fact, he’d back-squatted 300 pounds just this morning at the gym. Chuck couldn’t back squat 300 . . . though, actually, Rico wasn’t so sure. Beneath his leathery exterior, the cameraman possessed a surprising amount of wiry strength, which he demonstrated by easily hauling the camera and tripod from the van.
Some of Rico’s colleagues were intimidated by Chuck’s gruff personality, but Rico appreciated the veteran cameraman. Sure, Chuck wasn’t exactly a bucket of laughs, and Rico suspected he might have racked up a body count in Desert Storm, but the cameraman was good at his job. Plus, he always found great lighting for Rico.
“You want to grab the cabling in the back, pretty boy, or will that dirty your nice clothes?” Chuck asked. Rico peered into the van. It did look kind of dusty, now that Chuck mentioned it.
The door of the pet shop flew open, and a tall, curvy Black woman bounded toward them with surprising speed. Rico just managed to turn in her direction and offer a smile before she threw her arms around him in a crushing hug.
As he fought for air, Rico wondered how much this lady could back squat.
“You’re here! You’re actually here!” the woman squealed, holding the hug long enough to give an HR rep indigestion. Finally, she released him, though Rico could have sworn she somehow squeezed his bicep in the process.
“Oh my lord, I’m your BIGGEST fan,” the woman gushed. “I mean, you probably get that all the time, but it’s true. I’m Everly by the way.” She thrust out a hand.
After checking to make sure his hair was still spot on—it was—Rico took the woman’s hand and gave her a smile. “So nice to meet you, Everly.”
Sure, this greeting was a bit extreme, but Rico was used to getting a little extra enthusiasm from his fans—especially among the female contingent.
“I hear we have some adorable fuzzballs that need great homes,” he said to Everly.
Behind him, Chuck coughed.
Rico ignored his cameraman. Though this story was obviously far, far, faaaaar beneath him, Rico wasn’t about to let on. Every story was important to someone, and that mattered. Despite this humiliating demotion, Rico had a job to do. He intended to put on a brave face and record the best damn cat adoption story possible.
The woman stared at him, a dreamy smile on her face. Rico raised his eyebrows, and she seemed to snap into the present.
“Right, the kittens.” She slipped her arm through his and walked him toward the front door of the shop. “At Pet Palace, we work in partnership with the Yucca Hills Animal Rescue to give more visibility to kittens in need of adoption. We have twelve available for adoption today. The kittens are fostered by volunteers throughout the community, including me. I’ve been fostering for the past five years.”
“That’s amazing,” Rico said, keeping his smile firmly affixed while he imagined the fresh hell an army of kittens could cause, shitting in this woman’s home and tearing every piece of her furniture to shreds. “That must be so fulfilling.”
Chuck coughed again, though the noise sounded suspiciously like the word bullshit.
“Oh, it is!” Everly giggled as she pushed open the door and reluctantly released his arm to move inside. “I knew you’d understand.”
Rico stepped into the store.
“Ta-da.” Everly spread out her arms.
Rico nearly stumbled as he got a load of her outfit. “Wow. That’s, um, some shirt you’ve got there.”
“Really? You like it?” The woman looked down at the shirt in question, a bright yellow number printed with the words Meow Catnip, Meow Problems.
“Sure do.”
Behind him, Chuck shouldered his way through the door, grunting as he lugged the cables and microphone along with the camera and tripod inside.
With a practiced eye, Rico surveyed the space, searching for the right spot to set up the shot. Even though he’d grown up in Yucca Hills, he’d never been in the pet store before. The place oozed charm, with shelves full of toys and bags of food. Animal silhouettes lined the walls to designate their product sections.
The front right section of the store seemed like it was normally used for pet grooming services. The equipment had been pushed back to make space for a row of large cages on the ground, each holding two kittens.
“We try to adopt kittens in pairs,” Everly explained following his gaze. “Kittens need lots of play and socializing, so it helps to have another kitten or adult cat in the house.”
“Great, great,” Rico said as he moved through the space. Several volunteers in blue T-shirts stood at the cages.
“What do you think about getting me here, with the kittens in the background?” Rico asked, planting himself in the center of the space. He looked up and saw Chuck already positioning the camera at just the right angle.
“This is Butterscotch.” Everly popped up like a genie at his side and set a wriggling orange creature in his arms. It was everything Rico could do not to instinctively drop the animal.
“Isn’t he adorable?” Everly cooed, seemingly oblivious to the kitten’s near plummet.
Rico looked at the kitten’s tiny face and huge green eyes. Okay, even he had to admit the thing was kinda cute. And it’d look great for the broadcast.
“Okay, so, Everly,” he said, “why don’t you pick up a kitten . . . Oh.”
The woman already cradled two in her arms.
“Perfect,” Rico told her. “Now, let’s have you stand here.” He touched her shoulder, gently guiding her to his side so she’d be fully in the shot. She sighed. Loudly.
“That should be per . . .” Rico’s voice faltered as he glanced over Everly’s shoulder and noticed a young woman tugging uncomfortably on her blue volunteer T-shirt. She was gorgeous. Waves of mahogany hair brushed her shoulders, framing a round face with olive skin. Wide, whiskey-golden eyes gazed into the enclosure in front of her, and a glinting silver hoop curved around a dainty nostril. She was perfectly built, as well. Not too small, not too large, with generous breasts that jacked up Rico’s heart rate. Something else on his body was lifting, too.
A little girl tugged on her mother’s hand and approached the cage in front of the dark-haired woman. The girl pointed a chubby finger. The volunteer knelt, gently lifted a white puff ball from the cage, and handed it to the girl. A warm smile lit the woman’s face as the girl giggled and tucked the kitten to her chest.
That smile knocked his soul down for the count.
Well, well, well, Rico thought. Looked like this trip to Yucca Hills wasn’t a complete waste of time after all.