My lips twisted into a scowl. She burst out laughing.
God, that sound.There was so much pleasure in it, the tone hurt to take in. Sheer amusement at my surliness.
That was the thing I was starting to realize about Rho. She wasn’t afraid to show the world how she felt. Happy, sad, anything in between. She just let those emotions fly.
There was bravery in that freedom. And I admired the hell out of it.
“Come on, you broody ass. I’ve got baked chicken, potato-leek casserole, and a salad just about done. You can scowl while you’re being fed.”
That scowl only deepened. “What the hell is potato-leek casserole?”
Rho held the door open for me. “Only the best thing you’ll taste this side of heaven.”
“Bold claim,” I challenged.
She shrugged. “I’ll let you be the judge.”
As we walked into the open-plan living room and kitchen, Biscuit scrambled up. He charged over to me, but there was no bark or growl; instead, there was just a wag of his tail. “Hey,” I greeted, giving his head a rub.
A chorus of meows sounded from a box near Biscuit’s bed. He let out a whine in answer.
Rho moved quickly, grabbing a tiny bottle from the counter. “Don’t worry, buddy, I hear ‘em.” She glanced at me with a smile. “He’s taken it on himself to mother them.”
I slowly moved closer, watching as Rho helped the tip of a bottle into a tiny kitten’s mouth. Its meowing stopped instantly. It sucked ferociously, and Rho gave it her fingers to knead. It all looked effortless, but I knew there was no way it was. “How often do you have to feed them?”
She stroked the kitten’s head with one finger. “Every four to sixhours. Makes for some rough nights for a while. It would be more like every two to three hours if they were any younger.”
I winced. “Most people wouldn’t sign up for that sort of thing.”
Rho shrugged as the kitten finished its bottle, and she set it down. “I know what it’s like to need a safe place to land.”
Of course, she did. She knew better than anyone what it was like to be in the worst state imaginable and to feel like she had no one.
As Rho stood to get another bottle, my gaze slid to the scars peeking out from her shorts. I hated the pain they were evidence of. Hated that she carried that kind of reminder with her.
I watched as she fed kitten number two, marveling at how she’d dealt with it all. I hadn’t paid nearly the price Rho had, yet she seemed to handle it all so much better than me.
“Gonna tell me what you’re thinking about so hard over there?” The question was easy, casual. There was no pressure behind it. I knew if I said no, she’d leave it be. But I found myself wanting to answer.
“You,” I finally said.
Her gaze flicked to me for the briefest moment. That swirl of green and gold mesmerized. Tonight, the gold looked like sunflowers in a field of grass. “Putting all the pieces of the puzzle together?”
It was a little too close to the truth of how my mind worked. “You take the bad and turn it into good.”
Rho switched kittens again, feeding the third, a little black-and-white one with an especially potent wail. Once the bottle was in its mouth, she turned to me, those eyes searching. “I’m not one of those people who thinks everything happens for a reason.”
All I could do was grunt in response. If everything happened for a reason, we were all walking around rocking some seriously horrendous karma. But I was surprised that Rho felt that way. She seemed like the kind of person who put meaning behind everything.
“Sometimes, absolutely horrible things happen. Things where no silver lining can justify the pain.”
An invisible fist locked around my chest at her words, a reminder of the kind of agony she spoke of.
Rho’s eyes locked with mine. “But good can come, even out ofthose darkest depths. It doesn’t mean we’re glad we went through it. It just means we won’t let it change us for the worse.”
She didn’t look away as I kept going. “I’ve realized lately that because I lost them, I never take one second with the Colsons for granted. Because my mom can’t see her garden bloom each summer, I take extra time breathing mine in every year. Because my dad won’t ever get to read the new John Grisham, I’ll read it for him and appreciate the twists that much more. And because Emilia won’t ever get to grow old, I’m going to embrace every wrinkle and age spot.”
Rho took a deep breath as she set the black-and-white kitten down. “It doesn’t mean I’m glad they’re gone. It doesn’t mean I miss them any less. But I’m going to let that loss teach me, not harden me.”
