And One More Epilogue
Sometime soon enough
Conversations with the Cat
Zeus
He padded toward the bathroom on the quietest feet in the home. The woman had gone in there the second she woke, springing out of bed.
She never bolted up in the morning. Perhaps she needed to stroke his soft fur to feel better about whatever was making her nervous. He’d sensed her nerves. He was talented like that.
Now, as the man slept deeply, Zeus nudged his shoulder against the ajar door, pushing it open.
The woman was perched on the toilet bowl, holding a stick. He cocked his head to the side, watching her. She stretched her arm to push the door closed.
“Shh. I don’t want him to know I’m even taking this.”
Zeus parked his rear on the tile and stared at her, while she stared at the stick.
Tick tock.
She set the stick on the sink and flushed. She watched the stick more as she washed her hands.
Zeus never looked away from her.
At last, she peered at the stick once more. She gasped.
She dropped down to him, scooped him up in her arms, and pressed her lips to his furry face. “You’re going to be a big brother.”
Then she set him down and burst out of the bathroom, waving the stick and waking up the man, who erupted into the kind of cheer that Zeus could only assume accompanied a fresh can of tuna.
Whatever was exciting the man and the woman, he found great satisfaction in the fact that he had known first.