Chapter 13 #2
Cash must have been able to read my expression, though, because he gave a shrug and said, “Some families just suck.”
He picked up the orange kitten and cradled it against his chest.
“Yeah,” I said and picked up my own kitten to cuddle, because honestly, what was better therapy than a kitten?
We sat there for a while after we’d fed the kittens, Dog watching on placidly like nobody had ever told him that old cliche about dogs chasing cats.
I let the calm of Cash’s quiet presence and the cuteness overload of the kittens steal over me, and it felt like, hell, maybe this was still an okay day after all.
And then I thought of how Cash had woken up all sleepy and relaxed, and what we’d done after that, and revised my opinion to today being a great day, actually, if I wanted it to be.
My mom’s words were still filtering around in the back of my brain, but I pushed them away and ignored them.
Not today.
Keys rattled in the front door and shortly afterward Kayla sailed past the treatment room door toward the kitchen.
She was back a moment later, though, because she was a sucker for the little tuxedo kitten.
I was ninety percent sure she was planning to adopt her—she just hadn’t admitted it yet.
I handed the kitten over and Kayla scooped her up, making nonsense noises and cooing as she pressed a kiss to the kitten’s head.
Cash and I exchanged a look, and I bit back a smile.
Kayla was definitely adopting this cat.
We spent a few more minutes in the treatment room before Cash’s gaze flicked to the wall clock, and he sighed and put his kitten back in the carrier. I did the same with mine and then followed him toward the front door, where he scooped up his backpack and paused.
“See you tonight?” I asked.
He nodded and whispered, “Yeah.”
I watched him ride off on his dirt bike and braced myself for another day dealing with the pet owners of Goose Run.
I’d figured when Cash left that my day would go downhill, and when my first appointment was a cat that was half feral and half chainsaw, I was proven right.
After the cat and its apologetic owner had left, I tossed the blood-streaked towels in the tub in the laundry room—my blood, not the cat’s—and taped myself up with Band-Aids.
I went into the kitchen and helped myself to one of the cookies Kayla had brought in—I’d earned it—and then decided that the least I could do to atone for my theft was take the container out to her in reception.
She was on the phone. “Yes, Mrs. Power. I’ll be sure to ask Dr. Ross for you. Okay then. Bye now.”
“You’ll be sure to ask Dr. Ross what?” I asked after she ended the call.
“That was the weirdest fucking call,” she said, glancing around to make sure our next appointment wasn’t here yet. “Mrs. Power wanted to know if geese can be gay.”
“What? Why?” Mrs. Power was in her eighties and preferred to call us with any animal-related questions she had rather than googling like a normal person. A horrible thought struck me. “Oh god, what did Bobby’s goose do?”
“I have no idea,” she said, shaking her head. She plastered a smile on her face as the door opened. “Hi, Lucy. Rocco’s here for his checkup, right?”
I stole another cookie and headed back to the consult room while Kayla checked Rocco in.
Cash and I texted a few times throughout the day. Nothing big, but that just made it more special somehow. Cash and I fit easily and comfortably, which wasn’t to say my heart didn’t leap with anticipation every time I heard the chime of an incoming message.
I’d never felt that when I was with Patrick, even in the early days.
I’d answered his texts because that was what you did when your boyfriend messaged you, but there had never been the spark of excitement that there was with Cash.
But at the same time, what Cash and I had was somehow cozy in a way I hadn’t experienced before either.
I hadn’t been a good boyfriend for Patrick.
I hadn’t been emotionally invested the way I should have been, and that wasn’t fair to him.
Except I also hadn’t realized it until after we’d broken up, which had been too late for the relationship.
And I didn’t regret it because he’d deserved better.
I knew that. The only reason he’d moved on so quickly—literally straight from my apartment to the new guy’s—was that I’d mentally checked out months before.
Or maybe I’d never mentally checked in at all.
But now, for the first time, I was starting to realize that I also deserved better, and that with Cash I might have found it.
I’d thought I’d loved Patrick, but we’d been better friends than boyfriends.
Patrick had never made my heart tumble over a series of beats by sending me a photo of his shy smile next to a Lego model of the Colosseum.
I’d never looked forward to Patrick coming home the way I looked forward to Cash coming over tonight either.
Kayla caught me watching the clock after seeing the last patient of the day and gave me a knowing smirk. “Waiting for someone, Doc?”
“Don’t you have a kitten to name?” I shot back.
She opened her mouth, but I was saved by the front door opening.
My relief was short-lived when a flurry of feathers came racing across the room, honking.
I was about to duck behind the counter when Bobby Merritt came bustling in, clutching an empty leash.
“Lucille! Get back here!” He scooped the goose up and tucked her under one arm, then clipped the leash onto her harness while she honked in outrage.
“Hey, Mr. Merritt,” I said. “Is there a problem with Lucille?” I hoped the answer was no—I wasn’t sure I could handle feral cat- and goose-related injuries in one day.
“Call me Bobby,” he said. “And nah, she’s just a little feisty today.”
I did my best not to let my relief show. “Then what can I do for you?”
Bobby shoved the goose into my arms without warning, and as I struggled to get a solid grip on her, he started digging in the pockets of his overalls.
By the time I had Lucille secured, he’d found what he was looking for.
He handed Kayla a rolled-up sheet of paper and said, “I was wondering if I could put this up in your waiting room.”
Kayla unrolled the paper and held it up, displaying a drawing of a rainbow-colored goose. At least, I was guessing it was a goose.
I stared at him blankly.
“You like it? It’s for the festival!”
And yep, there in giant purple letters across the top of the page, it proclaimed Goose Pride.
Kayla made a strangled noise. “Bobby,” she asked, “is this a festival for queer geese?”
He hummed under his breath for a second and then said, “I guess it kinda does look like that, doesn’t it?” His brow creased.
“I think you missed a couple of words. Like Gay, and the Run part of Goose Run,” Kayla suggested. Lucille honked her agreement, then tried to take a bite of my ear.
“Well, shoot!” Bobby laughed and shoved a hand into the pocket of his shorts. I waited for him to pull out another poster but no, turned out he was just adjusting himself. It took a certain level of shamelessness to dress in short-short overalls, and Bobby had it in spades.
“I don’t suppose you’ve got a Sharpie, do you?” he asked Kayla.
She pulled one out of the drawer and I watched, fascinated despite myself, as he bent over the counter and scribbled something on the poster. “There!” he said, holding it up. “Better?”
It still said Goose Pride, but underneath Bobby had written GAY in big block letters across the picture of the goose.
“That’s a lot clearer,” Kayla said, blinking furiously and refusing to make eye contact.
“Good,” Bobby said, “because I already had two hundred of these printed. Guess I should have checked them first!”
I was just debating whether I’d regret asking what Goose Pride involved when Cash arrived. He stopped short when he saw Lucille but gave Bobby a cautious smile.
“Afternoon, Cash,” Bobby said. He held up the poster like a little kid holding up their schoolwork. “You like it?”
Cash’s gaze flitted from the poster to Bobby, and then he raised his eyebrows and pointed to a pin attached to Bobby’s overalls strap. His throat worked for a moment and then he whispered, “New?”
Bobby beamed, and I couldn’t tell if it was because Cash had noticed his new pin or because he’d spoken to him. I suspected it was a little of both—Cash was still quiet around most people. “You like it?” He hooked a thumb behind the pin and held it out from his chest, and I took a closer look.
It was a goose carrying a rainbow flag.
Huh.
Cash nodded, then looked at the poster again and raised his eyebrows in a silent query.
I took the opportunity to shove the goose back toward Bobby.
He took her, smoothing her ruffled feathers.
“Well, I’ve been reading about small town festivals.
Did you know there’s places with pickle festivals?
Anyway, they bring in a whole lot of tourist dollars, and the good lord knows we could use some of those.
And I got to thinking that this town should have a festival of its own.
Except we don’t make pickles, and I don’t think the Adventurama’s quite enough on its own to bring the people in.
Then last week I was over in South Hill and I found this cute little button, and it all came together.
The next morning I woke up and said to myself, ‘Everybody loves geese, right?’ And we want a festival where everyone’s welcome and we wanna make it inclusive.
So I came up with Goose Pride!” Bobby said, grinning proudly. He looked at me expectantly.
Kayla leapt in before I could say something stupid like, why? “Sounds peachy, Bobby. What sort of things are you planning?”
Bobby stroked his chin. “Well, I thought we’d hold it over two days.
We’ll put up rainbow decorations all down Main Street, and we’ll hold it in the park.
There’ll be market stalls and carnival games and face painting and the like for the kiddies.
I’ll get Lee to make rainbow cakes and special desserts.
And at night we’ll have a band. People will come from miles away to see it, just you wait! ”
“Sounds great,” I said weakly.
“Thanks! I’ll leave you this for your notice board,” Bobby said, slapping a hand against the poster. And then he left with a hissing Lucille tucked firmly under his arm.
I watched him climb into his battered old truck and said, “It’s going to be a disaster, isn’t it?”
But Kayla, sounding almost fond, said, “You never know. Bobby’s full of surprises.”
Cash hummed in agreement and waggled his hand back and forth.
I hadn’t lived here long enough to know if they were right or not. On the one hand, it sounded like a solid concept. But on the other hand, I had my doubts about the organizational abilities of a man who couldn’t keep his own goose leashed.
It was only when I was pinning the poster to the board that I looked at the festival dates and realized I’d be long gone by then anyway.
Back in Cincinnati living in my nice, quiet apartment, working at a practice with electronic recordkeeping and a laundry service.
There wouldn’t be any breathing space between appointments at work, or time to cuddle with kittens, or people dropping by with cakes and cookies.
But, on the plus side, there would also be no clients turning up on my doorstep in the middle of the night, no door on the treatment room that stuck closed unless you hit it just right, and no feral geese.
I told myself I wouldn’t miss any of those things and wondered why that felt like a lie.