36. Alexis
Alexis
The bell above the animal shelter’s door jingles as Gabriel, Peyton, and I step inside. A wall of sound greets us as we do, the cacophony of dogs barking from their wing of the building.
Peyton races ahead of us, clutching the straps of her purple backpack. She makes a beeline for the hallway where the kittens reside.
“I can’t believe I let you two talk me into this,” Gabriel mutters as he follows in her wake.
I grin at him. Before I got to know Gabriel, I would’ve taken that statement at face value. Now, I know better. That gruff, reluctant exterior surrounds a soft center.
“I guess we wore you down, huh?” I tease, swaying to the side so that our arms brush.
He gives me a fond, exasperated look. “Yeah. Guess so.” He sighs. “Pets just make life harder. I know she won’t remember to clean the litter—”
“This will teach her. And besides, you know she’s going to love that kitten more than anything. Isn’t that worth a little mess?”
“Cats claw furniture,” he grumbles.
“We’ll get a scratching post when we stop at the pet store today,” I retort, “and we can put a covering on the couches to protect them.”
“What if the house starts to smell like cat piss?”
“Keep the box in a side room, get some air fresheners, and keep a scented candle on the coffee table.”
He gives me a wry smile. “You have this all figured out, don’t you?”
“Oh, I do. I stopped just short of making a slideshow to convince you.”
He laughs, shaking his head. “I shouldn’t have folded,” he remarks. “I would’ve loved to see your ‘Peyton should have a kitten’ PowerPoint presentation.”
“It would’ve been very professional.”
“I have no doubt.”
We follow Peyton into the corridor that houses the cats.
She’s already peering into one of the kennels, her eyes wide with excitement as she meets the gaze of a stately orange tomcat, curled up on a pile of blankets.
On the opposite side of his kennel, another cat, a dark gray tabby, laps at their shared water bowl.
“Aw, he’s so cute!” Peyton gushes excitedly.
Gabriel chuckles, leaning slightly toward me as we walk up behind her. “That one looks like he owns the place.”
Peyton turns to us, her eyes shining. “Can we see him? Please?”
Gabriel steps closer, crouching down to read the label on the orange cat’s kennel. “It says here that this guy is bonded with his roommate. We can only get one cat today, Bug, and we don’t want to separate him from his friend.”
She sighs, then nods. “Okay. I’ll keep looking!”
She takes off down the hall. Gabriel straightens, shaking his head with a small smile as we watch Peyton dart from kennel to kennel, her energy seemingly endless.
Ahead of us, Peyton suddenly stops and lets out an excited gasp. She’s crouched in front of a cage where a little tuxedo kitten is batting at a bundle of feathers.
“Daddy! Alexis! Look at this one!” she cries.
We hurry to join her, and the kitten pauses mid-swat, tilting its tiny head to observe us. It’s mostly black, with a white chest and paws. Its yellow eyes are wide with curiosity as it studies us, one paw frozen mid-air as if deciding whether to continue playing or not.
Gabriel kneels beside Peyton, reading the tag on the cage. “Let’s see here,” he says, scanning the details. “Female, four months old, friendly. Looks like she’s available.”
Peyton bounces in excitement. “Can we meet her now?”
I glance at Gabriel, who gives a mock sigh of defeat, his expression softening as he looks at his daughter. “Alright, Bug. Let’s meet her.”
Peyton beams as Gabriel wanders off to flag down a staff member. I watch with her as the kitten goes back to playing. Her little white paws are a blur as she swats at the dangling toy, her tiny tail flicking back and forth with determination. I get the sense that she’s showing off for her audience.
Eventually, Gabriel returns with one of the shelter’s volunteers, who smiles warmly at Peyton. “You can follow me to our playroom,” she says. “That’s where we always introduce people to the animals.”
She unlatches the cage and pulls out the kitten, holding the cat’s small body against her shoulder, and starts down the hall.
Peyton bounces on her toes, clutching my hand as we follow the volunteer. The kitten peers over her shoulder. Her eyes are bright and curious, watching us carefully.
“She’s so cute,” Peyton whispers, her voice barely containing her excitement. “Do you think she’ll like me?”
I squeeze her hand, smiling down at her. “I’m sure she will. You just have to be patient and let her get used to you.”
The playroom is a cozy space filled with soft rugs, a few cat trees, and a variety of toys scattered about. The volunteer sets the kitten on a felt-lined platform at the top of a cat tower, then retreats, closing the door behind herself to leave the four of us in privacy.
Almost immediately, the black-and-white kitten scampers down from her high perch. She briefly runs over to paw at a burlap mouse attached to the cat tower by some twine, then pauses and turns to look at us. She creeps closer, her tiny nose twitching as she sniffs the air.
“How do I get her to come say hi?” Peyton whispers, her eyes huge as she takes in the tiny creature.
“Why don’t you hold out your hand?” I suggest. “Let her sniff you.”
Peyton giggles. “Why would she want to sniff me?”
“Cats have a very good sense of smell,” I tell her. “It’s a way for her to get to know you. Like asking someone their name.”
Of course, I know next to nothing about cats, but this feels like a safe suggestion. I try to make eye contact with Gabriel as Peyton holds out her hand, but his gaze is also fixed on the kitten.
The kitten’s whiskers twitch as she edges closer to Peyton, her delicate white paws soundless on the rug. Those enormous golden eyes flick between Peyton’s hand and her face, as if gauging whether this small human can be trusted.
Peyton remains perfectly still, her hand hovering just above the floor. “It’s okay, kitty,” she coaxes. “I’m nice. I promise.”
The kitten pauses, her nose almost touching Peyton’s hand, before giving it a tentative sniff. Then, as if satisfied, she nudges her little head against Peyton’s fingers.
Peyton grins, stroking the kitten between the ears. “She likes me!”
“Looks like it,” Gabriel agrees.
“She’s so soft,” Peyton says.
The kitten stands on her hind legs for a moment to lean harder into Peyton’s hand. Her golden eyes squint closed in pleasure, and the sound of her purring fills the room, a steady, soothing rumble. It’s a surprisingly big sound for such a little creature.
“What do you think?” I ask. “Is she the one?”
Peyton grins up at me. “Yes! She’s the best kitten ever!”
The kitten, apparently deciding she’s made a new best friend, clambers into Peyton’s lap and curls up, her purring intensifying. Peyton giggles. She squirms a bit, but that doesn’t seem to disturb the kitten in the slightest.
“You’re going to have to name her,” I say.
Peyton’s brow furrows, and she stares down at the kitten with a pensive expression. “She doesn’t have a name?”
“Not yet. That’s your job, Bug.”
“She’s black and white,” Gabriel says. “What about Tux? Short for tuxedo.”
Peyton wrinkles her nose. “That’s a boy name!”
Gabriel, the model of patience when it comes to his daughter, takes this criticism in stride. “Okay. How about… Oreo?”
“Mmm… no.” Peyton shakes her head. “I’m going to call her Pepper.”
“Pepper and Peyton,” I chime in. “The dynamic duo.”
“We’ll be best friends forever, right, Pepper?” Peyton cradles the kitten close, and Pepper lets out a pint-sized mewl that seems to seal the deal. “Alexis, you have to hold her too. She needs to like everyone.”
“Gladly,” I say, holding out my hands to accept the kitten. Peyton picks her up with surprising gentleness for a six-year-old. As soon as Pepper is in my arms, she goes limp, still purring. My heart melts as she vibrates against me. “Aw, she’s precious.”
Gabriel lets out a grunt of reluctant agreement.
“You too, Daddy,” Peyton insists.
Gabriel arches an eyebrow. “Me?”
“Yes, you,” Peyton says with all the authority of a six-year-old determined to have her way. “She has to like everyone in the family. So you have to hold her.”
I smirk, holding out Pepper in his direction. “She has a point, you know.”
“I don’t think I have to hold the cat,” Gabriel says with a sigh. “I’m sure she’ll be fine.”
“Um, excuse me, but you absolutely have to hold the cat,” I tell him.
He rolls his eyes, but there’s a hint of begrudging amusement in his expression as he reaches for the kitten. Pepper looks especially small in his hands. She’s small enough that she fits in his cupped palms.
Gabriel holds the kitten gingerly, like she’s something fragile he might accidentally break.
The kitten sniffs at the crook of his thumb for a moment before settling herself in his arms. Her purring grows louder, and she closes her eyes, clearly content.
Gabriel looks down at her, his expression softening despite himself.
The sight of Gabriel holding a tiny, happy kitten makes my heart feel like it’s about to explode.
“Aw, she loves you,” I say. “That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Gabriel glances up at me with a shrug, careful not to disturb the kitten. “She’s just purring because I’m warm.”
“No way,” I counter. “Look at her. You’re her favorite.”
As I speak, the kitten stretches slightly in Gabriel’s hands. Her tiny paws reach up toward his chin, as if she’s trying to nuzzle him. She purrs even louder, and after a few seconds, flops onto her back.
“She trusts you,” I point out with a grin.
Gabriel meets my gaze, his lips twitching into a reluctant half-smile. He looks so awkward and stiff, so unsure of what to do in this situation, that I have to suppress a laugh.
“I guess so,” he says.
I reach over to stroke the kitten’s soft fur. “Welcome to the family, Pepper.”