Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Raven had spent her morning with the cats, which she enjoyed, and the administration related to recent adoptions, which she saw as a necessary evil. She returned to the house only to find Wren was still in her room.
“Wren.” She knocked on the door to her daughter’s bedroom, which had remained firmly shut for most of the three days since she had arrived. “Wren, are you hungry?”
“No,” said a dull voice from the other side of the door.
“Can I come in?” Raven didn’t wait for her to respond, electing to try the doorknob, which, thankfully, turned with ease. She tentatively peered in, finding her daughter lying in a nest of sheets and blankets.
What was that smell?
“What on earth?” she said, pushing the door wide and walking across to the window, drawing back curtains and opening it to let in some air.
“Leave me be, Mom,” Wren said in a pathetic voice that grated on Raven’s nerves. She had empathy for Wren, but there was a limit.
“No. You’ve been lying around for three days. Now it is time to get up, have a shower, brush your teeth, and have some lunch.”
“I don’t want to.”
“I can see that, but if you don’t get out of here soon, you’re going to catch something.” She picked up a bowl that had held soup from two days earlier. “Things are starting to grow in here, Wren. Come on.” She flicked the duvet off her daughter, who yelped.
“Okay, okay. I’m coming,” said Wren.
“I mean it. Up, out in the hall, and I expect you to strip the bed, put on some clean sheets, and have a shower.”
“Mommm, I just want to—”
“Yes, I know you want to stay in bed and pretend nothing’s happened, but there comes a time when you have to get up and face the day. And I need some help at the cattery. A couple of new kittens need feeding every three hours.”
“New kittens?” Dare Raven hope that she detected interest in her voice?
“Yes, and the volunteers are all wanting vacation because it’s summer. Since you’re here, you may as well help.”
“What kind of kittens?”
“Hard to be sure. The mom’s a tabby and has a huge litter—too many for her to feed properly. Are you coming?”
“Okay.” Wren pulled herself up and swung her feet over the side of the bed.
“I’ll make us some sandwiches. Tuna salad, okay?”
“Toasted with cheese on top?” Wren asked.
“Yes, just like you always liked them.” Raven exited the room. “I’ll see you in twenty minutes.”
She closed the door, hoping Wren would keep going now that she was awake. She should have done this two days ago, but sometimes people needed wallowing time.
True to her word, Wren came into the kitchen twenty minutes later with a towel piled high on her head, wearing a pair of fresh jeans and a T-shirt, and looking more her old self.
She came over to Raven and gave her a hug. “Thanks for lunch, Mom.”
“It’s nice to see you up and about,” said Raven returning the hug. She handed Wren a plate with her open-faced sandwich on it. “Grab a knife and fork for us both, and I’ll bring the salad. Do you want coffee?”
“Yes, please.” Wren moved over to the cutlery drawer, and they were soon sitting in their usual spots as though Wren had never left.
But of course Wren had left, and things had changed, and her daughter was obviously dealing with something.
“How long have you had the kittens?” asked Wren, as she poured cream into her coffee.
“A couple of days. Someone found them under their back shed a few weeks after moving into their house. We have the mom too, but she’s exhausted.
I don’t think she had very good nutrition during her pregnancy, so we’re bottle feeding a few of the kittens, a little at a time, to give her a break.
” Raven kept talking about the kittens and the other recent arrivals, staying on neutral territory and not asking questions of Wren.
She knew from experience that Wren would talk when she wanted to—and not before.
When lunch was finished, Wren walked over to the counter and picked up a travel mug.
“Oh, don’t use that one. I have to return it,” said Raven.
“Roz won’t mind.”
“It doesn’t belong to Roz,” said Raven.
“Whose is it?”
“It belongs to my friend Lance.”
“Lance? Oh, the guy who owns the bookstore.”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“What was he doing here?” Wren turned to open the cupboard and locate another mug.
“He was here for dinner the other day,” said Raven, neglecting to mention that he was also there for breakfast the following morning.
“So you’re good friends?” asked Wren, turning back toward her mother. “I don’t remember you ever having a man here for dinner before.”
Raven looked briefly at her daughter and walked over to scratch Jackie under her chin. “We’ve been dating a bit,” she said finally, looking up to see Wren’s face contort into—what? Pain? Anger?
“Dating? You haven’t dated in…” Wren turned to pour coffee into the mug and walked back to the table to grab the milk. “Like, you never date. Do you?”
“Not in a long time, no. I tried a few times when you were younger, but it never quite worked out.”
“But now that I’m out of the house, it’s time to date again, is it?”
“Not that I need to explain myself,” said Raven, “especially to someone who didn’t even tell me she was living with a man…
” Wren had the grace to look a little shamefaced.
“But, yes, Lance is a nice man, and we’ve spent a lot of time together.
He’s helping me with the addition to the rescue center.
He’s had a lot of experience managing projects. ”
“I thought he hated cats,” said Wren. “At least that’s what you told me.”
“He’s come around,” said Raven, smiling at a memory of Lance with Tilly, the cat who adopted him, curled up on his chest.
“It didn’t take long to replace me, did it?” asked Wren.
Raven looked up at her to analyze her daughter’s mood. Was she joking? Or was she serious? She had best be careful. “No one can replace you; you know that.” But even as she said it, she realized that was what she was most afraid of: that loving Lance might mean losing Wren.
“Of course not.” Wren smiled, sounding almost like her old self. “Can we go see the cats now?” She screwed the top onto her cup and walked to the door to push her feet into sandals.
“Of course,” said Raven, placing the remainder of the salad in the fridge and putting the plates into the dishwasher. “Did you put your sheets on to wash?”
“I will.”
“Why not do it now? We can put them out on the line later. They’ll be dry in a jiffy.”
“Mom…”
“Wren.” Raven responded with a voice she had used since Wren was a child. One that said don’t mess with me, kid. She’d thought she could retire that voice now that Wren was grown. But Wren was reverting to some previous version of herself, and Raven had to play the parent once again.
“Okay.” Wren stomped back to her room, grabbed a pile of sheets, and loaded them into the washing machine.
“Happy?” Wren asked.
“Thank you,” said Raven coolly. “Let’s go see those kittens. It’s time for their next meal soon.”
Wren followed her mother into the Cat’s Meow. “I’d forgotten this smell,” she said.
“The smell of cats?”
“I guess it’s the combination of cleaning solution, vinegar, and cedar shavings,” said Wren. “Never really noticed it before.”
“Probably because you became nose blind,” said Raven, pushing open the door to the cattery and the sound of meows.
“How many do you have now?” asked Wren, walking along the row of cats, stopping to peer in and to pet a few paws that reached through the cage.
“Counting the seven we’re looking after in the back, thirty-four.”
“Almost capacity,” said Wren.
“Which is why I’ve been so pleased with the new Pages and Paws initiative.
” Raven went to the fridge to get the formula she had mixed earlier that morning, and put it into the microwave.
“Otherwise, who knows where these little ones would have landed.” She reached into the enclosure where the mother cat was lying.
“She’s so thin,” said Wren.
“Yes. If we hadn’t managed to get her this week, she might not have made it.” She picked up a kitten from the other side of the enclosure and handed it to Wren. “This one seems to be the runt, though there are three that are smaller than the others.”
Wren took the tiny creature in her hand and held it up to look at it more closely. “They must be a week old at most,” said Wren, taking the syringe from Raven and making her way over to a nearby table to sit down.
Raven took out a second kitten and joined her.
They worked together in silence for a while, each dropping kitten formula into a grateful kitten mouth.
“Why did I believe him, Mom?” Wren asked quietly, her eyes directed on the kitten.
Raven held her tongue, wanting to jump in and solve the problem but knowing that this would not be helpful. “Want to tell me what happened?”
“Not really.” Wren took the kitten back to the rest and scooped another into her hand.
“That’s fine. When you’re ready, you know I’m here.” She took a different syringe from the counter and sat down again.
“I thought I was in love,” Wren said finally. “Or maybe it was because at first he seemed to understand me. Listened to me when I told him about my problems at school. Helped me get a summer job, and a friend of his helped us move to Calgary. He was really nice. At first.”
Raven’s stomach tightened, and the tiny kitten in her hands squirmed and mewled.
“She’s still hungry,” Wren said, nodding at the kitten.
“Yes.” Raven loaded up the syringe with more formula and put a few more drops into the kitten’s mouth. “Sorry about that little one.”
She fell again into the familiar rhythm of feeding the kitten. “So what happened?”
“He had issues that I guess he didn’t want to tell me about.
I tried to understand, listen to him, but he would just clam up.
He said that I couldn’t possibly know what he was going through.
That I had no idea what it was like to have to work and pay rent.
No idea what responsibility was really like. ”
“And you believed him?”