Chapter 6 To Feel Love Again
To Feel Love Again
Jas
My eyes stay shut, lids heavy with exhaustion.
This morning is already off to a rough start.
I made the mistake of reading way past my bedtime.
I couldn’t put the book down. I was nervous I wouldn’t have time to finish it before the book club meeting later this week, but it has sucked me into its world.
It has the perfect amount of spice and a sexy, morally grey leading male main character who can fulfill any good girl’s fantasies.
But when I finally took a break, and let sleep consume me, I was awakened by the sound of incessant yipping from the ketahnsi beckoning me from outside…
again. It’s difficult to fall back to sleep after she wakes me up.
I gave her a few scratches behind her ear and a piece of fish from last night’s dinner before crawling back to bed.
A ketahnsi is a foxlike creature with legs dipped in midnight ink and amber eyes glowing like moons. Unlike an ordinary fox, it possesses two bushy tails flowing behind them like ribbons in the wind, announcing their status as a sacred spirit of wisdom, hope, and transformation.
This particular one wears a coat as white as freshly fallen snow, soft and luminous, mixed with golden-orange fur, while threads of pale blue shimmer through like scattered sunlight.
The tips of her twin tails are dusted in powder blue.
She’s larger than a kit and looks like she stepped out of a storybook when perched on our deck railing or curled up on the patio chair.
I’ve watched her scale our trees like it’s nothing, claws digging into the bark with feline grace as she climbs toward our treehouse.
For the past two weeks, she has greeted us in the early hours of the morning.
I’ve been woken up many times to light scratching against the door, raspy barking, and now let’s add yipping to the list. I prefer her afternoon visits.
At first, I felt sorry for the poor thing. Ketahnsi often travel in pairs. But she appears to be healthy, friendly, and she is absolutely adorable.
“Please, can we feed her?” Seren asked me yesterday, tugging my arm, attempting to pull me to the fridge. This child will drag you anywhere she deems necessary. We now have a bowl of almonds, blackberries, a few grapes, and apple slices near the doormat outside the sliding door.
But recently, Seren has been pretty persistent in asking for a pet.
I wonder why. I'm not against having a pet. They can be great for kids and families. It’s the fact that I am finally confident in getting the hang of things with the two of us.
We’re finally in a rhythm where things feel good.
It had a lot of bumps in the beginning, but over the years, things began to run like a well-oiled machine.
We have our routines. I want things to continue to run smoothly.
Adding a new pet and hairballs to the mix doesn’t sound ideal, and I don’t know if I truly can handle it.
It’s another item to add to my already filled plate of me, motherhood, and business owner.
There are important things I need to do to take care of myself.
Like remembering to eat, get sunlight, fresh air, and drink water. We’re pretty much plants.
But I decided I’m ready to date and that was another item I had to add to the stack of many.
I want to feel love again. I want to find someone special, spend time with them, get to know them, kiss them deeply, and let them hold me afterward. I’ve gone from dipping my big toe into the dating pool to steadily treading water.
The mattress dips, and sticky fingers are suddenly poking me, one by one, in my cheek. I shift to face her, watching her head ease onto the pillow.
“Morning,” I whisper, booping her little button nose.
A wide, gap-toothed grin spreads across her face, and the top of her pointed ear twitches slightly, poking through her warm brown curls.
“The maple syrup bandit strikes again, huh?” My nose scrunches at the sweet scent of the sticky evidence on my face where her fingers have been. She doubles over into a giggling fit.
“Mom, you know I can’t say no to pancakes.”
Only my child will raid the fridge for cold, leftover pancakes and eat them as is. She is a silly, sweet kid, but she is mine, and I love her to pieces.
She takes a deep breath. Fills those tiny lungs with the beginning of the million-dollar question. Uh oh.
I mentally count down: Three…two…one…
“Can we please get a pet? I already have a name!”
I use this time to roll out of bed. When she gets going, there’s no stopping her. I shove my legs in some sleep pants, slip my feet into my plush slippers, and throw my robe over my shoulders, my arms slipping through. For this conversation, I need caffeine first.
“Meet me in the kitchen, but first give me ten minutes.” I may have to exfoliate the syrup hardening on my face.
She squeals as she runs out of my bedroom. With all this excitement, she must know something I don’t know.
I turn on the Keurig, pop in a K-Cup, and set a mug on the drip tray. I slide my hands into the warm pockets of my robe, watching Seren dip her cold pancake into syrup. She leans over her plate to take a bite, and I realize she has syrup streaked into the hair at the top of her head. This child.
“Alright,” I say, leaning back into the counter, "go ahead.”
“Well,” she says, using her pajama sleeve to wipe her mouth.
My eye twitches at the movement. I’m okay. It will be okay. I love washing laundry. Said no mother ever. Why is it always bottomless laundry for two people? Two. Make it make sense.
She gets off her knees to sit on the stool, hands folded neatly in her lap, fingers intertwined.
Meeting in session.
Seren’s eyes grow wide. “Can we get a pet, please? All my friends have one. What about the fox with two tails, the keta, can we keep her?” Pink flushes her cheeks as she grabs her piggy bank, giving it a shake. “Look, I have some money for a collar!”
I laugh at her enthusiasm, but she is serious.
“Sweetheart, there is more to pets than just a collar,” I say, ticking off my fingers.
“We’d have to see if it is legal to adopt this exotic type of animal.
She hunts, but it would be good to keep some extra fresh food we can give her as a treat. And what about inside the house?”
I glance around, figuring out where a bed for her would go. Would she need something to climb on? Do we need a litter box? And does she need vet care? Seren hums along like she’s striking off a mental checklist as well.
I add my favorite cinnamon roll creamer to my coffee, give it a quick stir, and inhale the rich, sugary scent.
“We can get her if you share money with me.” She shrugs, taking small bites of her pancake.
How cute. Of course, I’d have to share my money. My little best friend is broke. She has a small savings from birthdays, and when she helps me around the café, she occasionally has some very persuasive ideas about how we can spend money.
“Can I please keep thinking about this?” My eyes peer over the rim of my mug. “I’m not saying no—” Goddess, why am I even considering this? “—but let me think about it.”
She immediately lifts her chin and gives me a nod with a firm smile. She makes it hard to say no.
“I’ll do some research,” I say, though what I mean is I will create a spreadsheet weighing the pros and cons of us getting a pet. “When getting a pet, it’s important they find good homes.”
“Like here?” She looks up, licking sticky syrup-covered fingers.
“Maybe our home. But let’s hurry up with breakfast. You need a shower.”
She frowns. “I had a bath last night.”
“I know, but it was before you got syrup in your hair,” I say, reaching over to unstick the syrup-coated strands from her face.
“Can I watch at least one episode of Bluey before the shower?” Her lip sticks out in a pout as she gives me her saddest puppy-dog eyes.
I glance upward to the clock on the wall above the window and our milky white farmhouse sink. I can see the rain clouds parting, the sun’s rays beginning to shine on the planters on the deck. “Yeah…okay, sure.”
“Hooray!” Seren cheers, taking a cold pancake in hand as she runs to the living room.
I take a deep inhale of my coffee. Who am I to say no to Bluey?
There is nothing I love more than a steaming hot shower in a mostly silent house.
Sometimes I wonder how anyone is supposed to juggle and balance it all. Work. Family. Exercise. Chores. Health. And mind your business while you’re at it.
I treasure the silence of a simple shower.
It helps erase some stress. It’s the one place I try not to think.
I lean back, eyes closed and inhale the scent of the fresh eucalyptus hanging from the showerhead.
The invigorating scent is a mood boost. It’s like a mini spa.
The water courses over my scalp and through the length of my hair.
The sudden, heavy downpour of rain has my eyes opening toward the skylight. Rain runs down the glass pane, the tree branches swinging in the wind.
A cozy, rainy Sunday indoors feels like a small gift. I turn off the shower and step onto the mat; the cool air prickles my skin. I take my time. I have nowhere urgent to be. I use my body butters and oils before getting dressed in jeans and an oversized sweater.
Now to tackle my mane. I scrunch in cream and diffuse on low heat, creating cinnamon-brown curls that spill down my back. The woman looking back at me doesn’t look tired, but my body tells a different story.
Seren is fully immersed in cartoons and coloring at the coffee table. Oh, the joys of being a kid. I didn't have the best childhood. Seren had a rocky one in the beginning as well, but unlike my family, I am here for her.
I collect dirty dishes and wipe off the countertops before popping my mug into the microwave for reheating. I toss a few messy hand towels to the ground, reminding myself I need to start a load of laundry. I still have a load to fold, and I need to mop.
“Mom!" Seren yells, the suds-covered glass almost slips from my hand. Shit. That was slightly terrifying. "Can we have spaghetti for dinner?”
Her little feet pound on the floor, running to the kitchen. Why do kids always run? Everywhere. As if the destination will grow feet and walk away.
I rinse the glass and put it in the dish rack. I don’t have any beef thawed, and I would need a jar of spaghetti sauce. I do have garlic, an onion, and noodles at least. The house would smell amazing.
“It sounds perfect.”
She cheers loudly before running back to the living room, diving onto the floor cushion to resume coloring. I glance out the window as steady rain falls and finish washing the dishes. We can manage a quick dance in the rain.
With Seren holding my hand, together we jump in the puddles outside Thyme and Oak, water sloshing up the sides of our rain boots. The rain is sliding and dripping down our hooded raincoats. I lift my head to the sky and gently close my eyes, feeling the soft rain fall on my face.
“Let’s go, honey,” I say, as we quickly jog inside.
I grab a cart and throw my hood off. “Seren, do you want to ride in the cart?”
Her face is pressed against the glass of a magical claw machine. “Maybe next time,” I say, tugging the sleeve.
“Okay,” she says with a frown, but then remembers she gets one small win, riding at the end of the cart.
We find our spaghetti sauce before Seren drags us toward the frozen section for garlic knots.
I toss some ground beef into the cart and add a few links of Italian sausage.
I can’t make spaghetti without spicy sausage.
“Miss Raene!” Seren’s rain boots squeak as she runs ahead.
I turn to see Raene bending down to hug Seren.
“Hey, Rae!” I greet her, a smile tugging at my lips.
Her hair frames her face in a beautiful, pillowy, soft curly afro.
Even in the bright fluorescent lights, she glows. New love will do that to you.
She leans on the handle of the shopping cart, her foot propped on the undercarriage below it. Her smile is devious. “Are you excited for book club and next month’s pick?”
My eyes dart to Seren, making sure she isn’t overhearing us. She’s a few feet behind Raene with a bag of chips in hand and now eyeing the Pringles. “I’m almost finished with it. At the rate I’m inhaling it, I'll probably finish it tonight.”
“Atta girl,” Raene says, laughing. “I told you all it was amazing. I already have a list of more suggestions. I’m taking us to the dark side.”
I laugh, taking a peek in her cart. She has the ultimate couple’s date night meal. Two ribeye steaks, fresh herbs, butter, garlic, potatoes, a head of lettuce with salad fixings, and a bundle of asparagus. There's also some whipped cream, cinnamon sticks, and pumpkin pie spice. Interesting.
“You know, Ash, even his dreams of me are pumpkin scented year-round.” Raene rolls her eyes, but there is a playful smirk on her lips.
“Well, I won’t keep you from your evening of dinner and…things,” I tell her, pushing my cart beside her, and she cackles. “But I’m going to grab this little girl before we leave the store with more than we planned.”
“Understood. Ash is the same. Which is why I come alone.”
We say goodbye, and Seren takes it as a sign to skip towards me with her items. A bag of chips in her hand and the other arm hugging two cans of Pringles to her chest like precious cargo—sour cream and onion for me, original for her.
I can’t help but laugh as she drops them in the cart without a care in the world.
“All done?” I joke. “Nothing else.” I push the cart towards the checkout while she hangs on. Pringles are a weakness and basically a food group.
“Oh! We need one more thing!” Seren hops off the cart and begins running, turning left towards the ice cream. She’s definitely mama’s girl.
The meat sauce simmering on the stove, Seren makes sure to refill the bowl on the deck with fresh water for our two-tailed fox friend.
She says it’s practice to show she can handle a pet.
Her little personality is hilarious. I am sure our little furry friend will be stopping by soon for another visit.
Book in hand, I sink into my favorite armchair near the electric fireplace. My body melts against the soft fabric as I make myself comfortable.
Seren bounces back and forth between her bedroom and the couch, captivated by whatever’s on the television or wanting to play with her toys.
She’s a little whirlwind of energy. The vibration of my phone distracts me even further from my reading.
It’s an alert from Match & Mingle. I have another match.