Page 61 of Hold the Pickle
Just saying the wordDaddoes something weird in my belly. It’s awfully domestic, even more than the meals and the shared space. We have responsibility now.
And Dalton’s doing his share, despite his difficult schedule.
He returns the kittens to the crate with the others, then turns on the burner under the pot of water we use to warm up the kitten formula. “How is Mama Cat?”
“Sleeping, mostly, but it looks like a comfortable rest.”
“That will do her the most good. Sleep in a safe, warm place, food, someone to help with the babies.”
I join him by the stove. “I’m supposed to go to work today. Should I take off?”
“I can feed them.”
“But you need to sleep.”
“I have twenty-four hours off. Plenty of time to watch them. You’ll be home late afternoon?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll sleep then.”
I turn to look over the room. Cattarina is sneaking toward the crate to steal a kitten. “I’m hoping they’ll be more independent when Mama is better.”
He checks the temperature of the formula. “I’ll look her over when she wakes. I think she’ll perk up quickly.”
I head to the shower to get ready for work. I feel bad that I’ve soaked up all of Dalton’s free time between shifts.
But when I come out in my jeans and deli shirt, he’s got my yogurt out, coffee made, and two kittens on his lap.
I think he likes it.
I’m not quiet coming in after my workday. Dalton said he would sleep when I got home. I’m anxious to see how Mama Cat is doing.
But when I step inside the apartment, the side with the bed is dark from the blackout curtains.
The kitchen bulb is on, just enough light to see on the sofa side.
I check Cattarina’s bed in its new placement.
Empty.
I peer into the open crate.
Nothing.
Where is everyone?
I stand still. There’s no sound. Did he take them somewhere? Did Mama Cat take a turn for the worse?
Surely he would have messaged me if there was a problem.
I set my bag on the bar and peer into the gloom of the bed.
There’s a figure there. Dalton must be asleep. But where are the cats?
My heart hammers as I turn on the flashlight function of my phone and angle it so that it doesn’t shine directly on the bed. Maybe Cattarina hauled everyone under the bed and Mama Cat followed?
I’m about to kneel to look below when I hear a meow near my face.
