Tinsel Page 2

  “Okay. Kiss the baby and the wife for me.” I hung up and quickly walked up the steps to my bungalow, greeted at the door by the cat who’d just been in the window at the coffee shop. “Oh, my gosh. Where did you come from?”

  The cat rubbed on my leg while I reached down to pet it. “You’re adorable. Where’s your home?” I felt its neck and confirmed it wasn’t wearing a collar. I opened the door and debated if I should let it in. Before I could decide, it darted past me and pranced to the rug in front of the fireplace. “Okay, hold up. I don’t know if this is such a good idea.” It yawned at me, walked in a few circles, and curled up on the rug. “Shit. Okay.”

  I took a picture of it and sent it to Mo.

  What do I do now?

  I hung my coat and put my purse on the hall table without taking my eyes off the cat.

  You got a cat?

  I rolled my eyes and texted back.

  No, it showed up at my house. Get this. It was at the coffee shop during my breakup.

  It followed you home? How cute.

  No, it WAS HERE when I got home. It didn’t make sense.

  Oooh, psychic kitty? Collar?

  Nope.

  Congrats on your new baby! I’m sure you’ll make a splendid mom. She followed that up with laughing so hard they were crying emojis.

  What do I do? Seriously. I’ve never had a pet.

  It’s cold and hungry. Get a fire started, find some tuna, and figure out a litter box.

  WHAT?!?!

  Find a box. Open one of your sandbags. Pour sand in the box. Add shredded paper and some baking soda until you can get a real litter box with real litter.

  I didn’t want a cat. My life was simple. I didn’t like restrictions. Plus, this cat obviously belonged to somebody in the neighborhood. It wasn’t too skinny. The fur wasn’t matted or tangled.

  Do you want a cat?

  Nope. Okay. BRB. Putting the kid down.

  Mo disappeared. I was on my own. I checked the weather. It was thirty degrees with a wind chill in the teens. Tomorrow was going to be warmer. Above freezing. The cat could stay here overnight, and tomorrow I could take it to the vet and see if it was chipped. I walked over to it and stared.

  “Are you hungry? I think I have something in the kitchen you might eat.” I was skittish about picking it up, but it didn’t fight me. It hung limply in my arms, either too tired to fight or too weak to care. The purring started the minute I opened a can of tuna. It danced around until I put the saucer on the floor. I found a shallow bowl for water and set it beside the saucer. Next up, litter box. I sifted through the recycling until I found a cardboard lid that looked like it would work. I knifed a sandbag that I used for weight in my car for snowy days and poured some sand in it. I probably had too much, but too much was better than not enough.

  I’m back. What’d I miss? Mo texted.

  I called her because I was at a complete loss.

  “Okay, so I made a litter box and fed the cat. Or kitten. I have no idea what sex it is or how old it could be. Guide me. Tell me something.”

  “Why do you think I’m the expert?”

  “You have a baby. This can’t be that different.”

  She laughed so hard she choked. “Okay, a baby and a cat are two different things. Let’s take this step by step. First, let’s find out if you have a boy or a girl. Lift it up and check between its legs to find out.”

  “Yeah. That’s easier said than done. At least it ate something. Loved the tuna.”

  “What did you do about the litter box?”

  “I did exactly what you said, but I’m afraid it looks more like a kid’s sandbox instead of a cat bathroom.” I studied the sweet ball of fluff next to me on the floor. It didn’t move at all. “Do cats like to be covered when they sleep? Should I get a blanket?”

  “I’m going to hang up and FaceTime you. I have to see this cat close up.” Mo hung up, and within seconds, her face popped up on my screen. “Show me.”

  “All the girls tell me that.”

  We both laughed at my lie.

  “Show me this precious baby.”

  I flipped the view so she could see the gray ball of fluff. The phone woke it up. We watched as it stretched, then jumped on the sofa to be next to me. I softly petted it, and it started purring.

  “All that fuzziness. You’re going to have to take it to a vet to figure out the sex. I can’t help you there. Oh, and you’ll have to pick out a name.” Mo’s excitement only fueled my dread. What if this kitten wasn’t chipped? Would I have to put flyers all over the neighborhood? Would I have to get a real litter box and cat bed?

  “I can only pray this baby just lost its way and tomorrow I can deliver it to its rightful owner.”

  Mo snorted. “Good luck with that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Mo continued bombing me with questions that only bumped up my blood pressure. “Does it have fleas? Have you thought about the flea pill or a flea collar? You have to take it in first thing so they can check it out.”

  “No. I haven’t thought about a flea treatment, but it’s too cold for them. Yes, I’m taking it in first thing tomorrow. Let’s focus on my freaking out right now.”

  Mo ignored me. “Show me the litter box. Let’s see how it looks.”

  I rubbed my hand over my face, knowing full well she’d judge me on my lack of ability to follow step-by-step instructions. I pointed the phone in the corner where the litter box was tucked under the small table in the hallway.

  “That is the worst place for a litter box. Try putting it in the bathroom with you. And Jesus, did you pour the whole bag in it? Smooth it down or something. Poor kitty’s going to think that’s a sand dune to play in,” Mo said.

  “Look, I’m not the cat whisperer or even a liker of cats. You have to know this about me, but I couldn’t leave it outside either. It’s colder out there than my own heart.”

  “Oh, oops. I forgot about you and…” She paused for what I thought was effect, but she stumbled and stuttered enough to tell me what was really going on.

  “You seriously forgot her name? We just talked about her thirty minutes ago. Stephanie. Her name is Stephanie.” I heard a smack and visualized Mo hitting her forehead with her palm.

  “Sorry about that. See? She’s forgettable. Don’t fret.”

  “Seriously, let’s focus on the real problem at hand. What am I going to do? I don’t know anything about cats.”

  “The vet will see if it’s chipped. Get there first thing and then go from there. Maybe they have a place you take it, like a foster family. Or leave it there at the vet, or even take it to animal control, where they’ll give it like forty-eight hours to live,” Mo said.

  My mouth dropped open. “Shut up. I can’t believe you just said that to me.”

  “It’s true. It’s a sad, sad world we live in. How’s this guilt trip working?”

  “My bags are packed. I’ll call you after the vet.”

  Chapter Two

  I held the kitty close to my chest under my coat as we made our way inside Hillside Veterinarian Clinic, the closest vet to my place. I busted into a waiting room full of giant dogs. People with cats were huddled in a corner on the other side, far away from the threatening canines. Chaos was an understatement. I turned around to wait in the car and ran into a woman racing inside. Her messenger bag whacked my waist after our initial crash. My “umphf” was audible.

  “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” she asked. Her slouchy hat was askew. The wind had tangled her long blond hair around her neck. She had a box of doughnuts in one hand and her coffee in the other. She dropped nothing.

  I frowned and looked inside my coat. Kitty looked up and blinked at me. It was okay. My anger took over. “Really? Maybe you should slow down. You could have hurt…” I paused because I didn’t know the kitty’s name or sex. “Us. You could have hurt us.”

  She apologized again and skirted around me to hand the box of doughnuts to the receptionist. A Great Dane n
udged her when she turned back around.

  “Zeus. How are you, big boy? Are you ready for your shots today?” She turned to the owner and apologized for being late. Continuing her trek around the room, she said good morning to most of the dogs and disappeared behind a door.

  My dismay didn’t affect her at all, which pissed me off even more. I was used to attention from pretty women, but she’d dismissed me as though I wasn’t even there. I checked in and explained my situation to a receptionist who didn’t care. She handed me a clipboard while nodding at my story. I grabbed it from her and sat on the cat side of the room, where we belonged. Twenty minutes later, we were finally ushered into a room.

  “So, what brings you both here today?” A friendly tech took the kitty from my arms and put it on the table. “You have the prettiest eyes,” she said. I knew she meant the cat, because my eyes were boring brown with a hint of green. Nothing as spectacular as the kitty’s silver eyes.

  “I found—the kitty showed up at my door last night, and I didn’t see a collar, and I don’t know the sex because I’ve never had a cat and there’s too much fur to check.” I swirled my hand in a circle near the kitty’s nether regions.

  “Yeah, furry is tough. Let’s find out.”

  The tech did a three-second tail-lift check. “Congratulations. It’s a girl.”

  “Yay, but she’s not mine. I just needed to know so I could properly gender her.” Did I just use gender as a verb?

  “Let me get a chip reader and see if she’s chipped.”

  The tech disappeared. I leaned down to kitty. “Well, hello there, sweet girl.”

  The door opened, and the tech returned with a tool that resembled a barcode scanner or a Star Trek phaser gun. Hot on her heels was the woman I’d run into when I first arrived. She looked different. Gone was the hat. She no longer looked frazzled. As a matter of fact, she looked very professional, put together, and sexy as hell. She had the sweetest smile. For the kitty.

  “I’m Dr. Taylor Mitchell. I’m sorry about earlier. Let’s check to see if she’s chipped.” The smile disappeared when our eyes met. I had no idea why she was giving me attitude. I didn’t run into her. She ran into me.

  “I’m Jessica,” I said. I leaned over and watched her scan the kitty’s neck.

  “No chip.”

  She handed the gun to the tech, who promptly left the room. Taylor picked up the clipboard and reviewed my paperwork. It was hard not to openly stare at her. She was genuinely pretty. Girl next door with cheerleader looks. Blond hair, blue eyes, full red lips, and eyelashes that were the longest I’d ever seen.

  “You named her Catmas Evergreen?”

  I blushed. It was stupid, but I was tired and didn’t give it a thought when I filled out the name portion. “Well, no. I mean I wrote that down because it was the only festive, non-gendered name I could come up with. You know, Catmas because of Christmas and Evergreen because I love Christmas trees.” I stopped because I sounded ridiculous. “I really didn’t think about it. I just figured I’d bring her in and she would be chipped and I’d be on my merry way.”

  “Hmm.” She did a quick check on Catmas’s tummy, her throat, her ears and mouth. “She seems to be in pretty good shape. Slightly dehydrated and a tad thin for my liking. Chances are she’s from your neighborhood. I’d recommend posting flyers around and see if anybody responds.”

  “Wait. I have to keep her?”

  She quickly masked her look of disbelief. “You can surrender her to us.”

  My hackles went up at the judgment in her voice. “Hey, I thought I was doing a good thing by taking her in last night, feeding her, keeping her warm. I never signed up for a pet. I don’t know the first thing about having a cat.”

  “You can leave her here with me.” Taylor picked up Catmas and stared at her tiny face. “Look at you. So pretty and fluffy. I’m going to find you a good home and feed you some yummy food. Would you like that? You would, wouldn’t you?”

  Under any other circumstance, I would have turned on the charm. Dr. Taylor Mitchell was smart and had the cutest dimples when she smiled. The white jacket and the stethoscope around her neck played to my doctor fantasies. What I didn’t like was the way she was shooting daggers at me for not wanting to keep Catmas.

  I gritted my teeth and gave her a really big, fake smile. “No. I’ll take her home and put flyers out, per your suggestion.”

  “Let me do a blood test and make sure she’s healthy and doesn’t have any issues. I mean, if you’re okay with that.”

  I nodded. I would agree to everything she suggested now because I didn’t want to come across as a jerk who didn’t like animals. She took Catmas into the back and disappeared for fifteen minutes. I pulled out my phone and texted Mo.

  It’s a girl! Followed with a baby emoji and a cat face.

  I thought so.

  No chip so she’s coming home with me. I’m going to put flyers out in the neighborhood and see if we have any takers.

  Congratulations on your new baby.

  I scowled at the phone. That shit’s not funny.

  At least you aren’t allergic. Something that fluffy would set me into a sneezing frenzy. Don’t forget to pick up everything. Maybe take her to one of those super pet stores where you can bring your cat and shop with them.

  Taylor quietly slipped into the room again, Catmas comfortably tucked in the crook of her arm. She was staring at a piece of paper.

  “So Catmas…” She paused as if saying the name was distasteful.

  “Catmas Evergreen. That’ll sound great when I’m angry or get home for the day. Catmas Evergreen, come here! Or, Catmas Evergreen, get down from there!”

  She finally smiled. “Very interesting name. Read young adult dystopian much?”

  At least she got the humor of the name and where it came from. “I lead a very exciting life glued to either my Kindle or the television.”

  “You should get out more,” Taylor said.

  I watched as she absently stroked Catmas’s belly.

  “All of her blood work looks great. I’m sure she belongs to someone. You just need to find out. Do you have NextDoor for your neighborhood where you can post pictures? Somebody has to be missing her. I mean, look at this face and these silver eyes. She’s adorable.”

  I could tell that Catmas was enjoying the attention. Honestly, I couldn’t blame her. “So how old do you think she is? Is she going to get any bigger?”

  Taylor looked inside Catmas’s mouth again and felt her teeth. “I’m guessing she’s about nine months to a year. Still young, but almost full grown. She’s just petite.”

  “So, I should feed her adult food?”

  “I think that’s fine. We have a pretty good selection here, or you can swing by Petco and pick up something more to your liking.”

  “Doc, I’ve never had a pet in my life.”

  Her mouth dropped open at my confession. “Never? Not even goldfish or a hamster?”

  “I had Sea Monkeys when I was eight, but I don’t think that counts. My parents weren’t animal people. I’m basically starting from scratch.” I shrugged, but I knew she was still judging me. I don’t know why it bothered me so much, but it did. Like the last twenty-four hours weren’t hard enough on me.

  “Okay, I’d recommend one of the gold bags out there. Start with a small bag just in case you find her owners so you aren’t spending a lot of money. If you don’t find her owners and you decide to keep her, you might want to think about scheduling shots in the future.” She rubbed Catmas’s head and wished me a good rest of the weekend.

  I stared at the door for a few seconds before the tech returned.

  “Did you need something else?”

  “I guess the doc is done with us,” I said.

  The tech waved a piece of paper in front of me. “I have your bill here. If you want to follow me, we can get you all taken care of.”

  That was my cue. I scooped up Catmas and followed the perky young tech to the check- out desk. She
handed me the small bag of recommended food and my bill.

  “Wait. Wait. Today’s visit was one hundred seventeen dollars and fifteen cents? I was in there less than thirty minutes.”

  The receptionist looked at the charges on the computer. “Thirty for an office visit, fifty-nine for bloodwork, twenty-two seventy for the food. Oh, and tax.”

  “Unbelievable.” I stopped myself from ranting because everybody was looking at me. I could even feel Catmas staring at me from inside my coat. I handed the receptionist my debit card and waited forever under the scrutiny of yet another group of strangers who witnessed another outburst. Over the same cat.

  I heard “have a nice day” on my way out. I didn’t care how cute Dr. Taylor Mitchell was, I wasn’t coming back here even if Catmas stayed with me. I’d find another vet. I spent another seventy dollars at Petco and raced home because I didn’t know when Catmas had to go to the bathroom. I set up the litter box in the bathroom, per Mo’s suggestion, and carried Catmas over to it to make sure she knew where to go. She’d used the sandbox last night and early this morning, but I could tell it confused her. I didn’t blame her. She seemed to like her new litter box and made good use of it. I gave her privacy and texted Mo.

  No chip. I spent too much money. Please start a Gofundme page.

  While I waited for Mo to get back to me, I filled Catmas’s new bowls with food and water. They were matching red with pictures of fish inside.

  Cheaper than a baby. Quit complaining.

  I know. Maybe we should start a page for you, too.

  What are we calling your new girl?

  I groaned. I was going to have to come up with a better name.

  Okay, don’t laugh, but I panicked.

  Oh, geez. Hit me.

  Catmas Evergreen.

  My phone rang ten seconds later.

  “Shut the fuck up.”

  I laughed. “Yeah, you know how awful I am in stressful situations. I’m up for another name. Come over and meet her, and we can come up with one together, auntie.”

  “I’m going to have to take Allegra. Give me an hour.”