13. Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Thirteen
Sam
The next couple weeks passed in a blur of feedings, cuddles, work, and…something less describable.
Soren was the model of patience. Since the kittens were getting bigger, we were able to spread out the feedings a bit more. Their eyes had opened, with the bluest of blue, and Soren cooed over them all the time. His love for them was so clear.
Probably as obvious as my own.
As I’d accepted Quinta wasn’t coming home, I’d placed an online ad for a couple of part-time employees. Or a full-time one, if that was possible.
Cody landed in my lap.
So to speak.
Twenty-three years old. New college grad.
Home to take care of his aging mother. Said mother did okay during the day, but she struggled at night.
Cody had no issues with working during the day, but needed to be home for his mom whenever he could.
In truth, he saw the store as a reprieve.
He had no issues caring for her, but he also wanted to be amongst people.
His favorite part of the job was working with customers.
He adored all manner of animals and was quickly a favorite with my regulars.
Vera even took me aside to compliment me on the hiring of that young man.
Not that she was much older than us. She was one of those old souls who rescued senior dogs with health issues as well as dogs who came from dire circumstances.
I offered her a permanent discount because of all she did for our community.
That wasn’t something I could do often—I still had the responsibility to make a profit—but I had a bit of leeway for special cases.
These days, Vera cared for Bella. The chihuahua had endured horrific abuse before animal control had taken her away and charged the owner.
Vera had struggled to convince the dog that not all humans were dangerous and abusive.
For her patience, she now had a lovely dog who, although still scared of many people, seemed to have accepted me.
That still warmed my heart every time I got to pet Bella.
The cool thing was that Bella immediately took a shine to Cody.
A meeting of souls. That had me grinning from ear to ear.
And confirmed I’d done the correct thing by hiring the young man.
He’d taken to the job like the proverbial duck to water and quickly offered to take full day shifts—including every other Saturday.
Suddenly, I had a bit of free time on my hands.
Soren was thrilled and quickly filled the time with kitten play, Tibby walks, more crime dramas, and tons of cuddles. Never pressured. Always on my terms.
Tonight, after my Friday shift was done, I headed home with a rotisserie chicken, a bean salad, corn on the cob, and mint chocolate chip ice cream. All favorites of Soren. He’d been working on a major contract with a brutal deadline.
Lolita had also been pulling some insane hours, and they appeared to be into the home stretch.
I’d convinced Soren to let me take on a bit more kitten care—as well as some of the cooking and cleaning.
Yesterday, after work, I’d headed to my home to do some serious dusting, pack more clothes, and double-check that everything that could be unplugged was.
My fridge was empty except for condiments.
My place felt…cavernous. I’d never realized how much I’d counted on Quinta coming home and making it feel alive again.
While I was there, I also scoped out some potential spots for litter boxes, cat trees, and scratching posts.
Yeah, I was seriously keeping Peaches or Jack or—God forbid—both.
That said, Soren was also making noises about introducing the kittens to Tibby soon.
The other day, to make a move in that direction—with Noah’s permission—we’d put the kittens in Tibby’s crate.
She’d sat outside, chin on her paws, and watched the little ones explore the new space.
Then, after we removed them, she sniffed for what felt like hours before settling into her crate with her nose against the blanket.
Small steps. Huge progress.
“I’m home.” I no longer winced at saying that. Soren had made it clear—in so many small ways—that he really liked it when I said those exact words. He claimed it made the kittens feel more secure. I’d smile to myself, agree wholeheartedly, and just move along.
Soren poked his head out from his office. “Give me five? And can you do the kittens? I’m—”
I waved him off. “No worries. Whenever you’re ready. The food will keep.” I put the ice cream in the freezer, put the rest on the counter, prepared the bottles, gave Tibby that look, and moved to the great room.
She followed.
I plopped down on the sofa and reached for Jack—who had been wandering around in the crate. “Hey, buddy.” I got him feeding right away. We now offered them liquid in a bowl to get the accustomed to feeding that way. Soon they’d be ready for wet food.
Tibby eyed me.
I grinned. “Only if Soren says it’s okay. The chicken is rosemary and herbs. My favorite. And your dad’s.”
“Did I hear my name?” Soren appeared, pecked me on the cheek, grabbed the second bottle, and dislodged Peaches from where she clung to her blanket with her tiny claws. “These things are getting sharper.” He laughed as he settled her.
“They are. I thought you said you had to work longer.” I didn’t like the idea of him blowing off work to be with us. “I could’ve handled both of them.”
He grinned. “I finished my last line of code just as I heard Tibby’s nails on the hardwood. I sent the latest iteration to Lolita, and she’s digging in. She’ll text if there’s an issue. Otherwise, she’ll email me the results overnight. Sorry, I’ll have to do a bit tomorrow.”
“No worries.”
“I know.” He grimaced. “But it’s your first Saturday off in, what, how many years?”
I squinted. “Since Quinta was old enough to be left alone. So, like, five or six years? Wow, I’d never put that into words before. I just…the extra pay that I tucked aside is really helping with her university expenses. So I’m really glad I did that—even if it meant a bit less time with her.”
“You trusted her, obviously.”
“Yep. She’d spend part of the day at the library and the rest with her friend Krista.
I was so lucky.” I adjusted Jack. “Krista’s mom always made certain the girls were fed.
My turn was Sundays when the girls hung at our place.
” I chuckled. “Krista’s mom called that her me time.
Again—I was the lucky one. I never had to worry about Quinta. ”
“Friends are good to have.”
I almost asked him to clarify. Did he mean Quinta was lucky to have Krista?
Or that I’d been lucky to have a friendship with Krista’s mom?
Probably the former—because he knew how difficult I found it to relate to people.
In the store? Sure. That was my job and livelihood.
Outside? Yeah…not so much. Before I could query him, Soren sniffed.
“Oh my God, what is that heavenly smell?”
I grinned. “Rotisserie chicken. Rosemary and herbs. I also bought bean salad, corn on the cob, and mint chocolate chip ice cream. Oh crap, and fresh-baked buns. I left those in the car.”
He waved me off. “When I’m done with Peaches, I’ll run out and get them. Is it possible to eat sooner rather than later? I, uh, forgot to eat lunch.”
I gave him the evil eye. “But I’ll bet you didn’t forget to feed the kittens.”
“Priorities.” He shrugged. Then gave me his most endearing smile. The one he knew I had no defenses against. “But I got everything done in time for you to come home and we can have dinner together. What’s one missed meal?”
I pursed my lips.
His returning smile was a little sheepish. “Okay, I could’ve stopped for a peanut butter sandwich or something. But then my stomach wouldn’t be rumbling now.”
After a sardonic chuckle, I finished up with Jack. “I’m going to run out to the car, grab the buns, and then organize dinner. You’re going to sit and enjoy the peace and quiet that is Peaches when she’s eating.” I gave Soren the evil eye. “Don’t give me a hard time about this.”
This time, he laughed. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” He held my gaze. “Might I have a kiss? In greeting? To celebrate that we both survived the day?”
Without any ability to deny him this, I moved to him. I placed my hands on his thighs, leaned over, and gave him a kiss. “Thank you.” I pulled back.
He cocked his head.
“For taking care of them even when you weren’t taking care of yourself.” I wagged my finger and then headed out to my SUV.
Back in the kitchen, I put the corn on the cob in a pot to boil, then set about organizing two plates. I stuck my head back into the great room. “Uh, is your darling allowed a little piece of, you know…”
Soren chuckled. “Is she begging?”
I gestured to her bed where she lay snoozing.
“Oh, well that’s good to know. Actually, she hasn’t had dinner—”
Tibby popped off her bed, stretched, eyed Soren—who still sat with Peaches in his arms—and then settled her gaze on me. Obviously, she understood I was more likely to take care of her.
“Come here, girl. Let’s get you fed.” I headed back into the kitchen with her hard on my heels.
She munched on her kibble as I organized the food and removed the corn when the cobs were ready. “Butter on your corn?”
“Of course.” He chuckled. “Really, is there any other way?”
“If there is, I don’t know it.” I grabbed the butter as well as salt and pepper.
I kept meaning to ask Soren if he had any dietary restrictions.
He’d asked about mine at the beginning, and I hadn’t thought to reciprocate.
Now, that felt like an oversight. Still, if he had the food in his house, then he was probably okay eating it. Or he would’ve said something. Right?
I didn’t know.
Tibby followed me dutifully as I took the plates out to the great room. Soren had put Peaches back in the crate and pointed to Tibby’s bed. Again, dutifully, the dog moved toward it. She spun three times before plopping down with her chin on her paws. And looking directly at us.
I handed Soren his plate.