With all the love I have to give,
Level Twelve Silas,
Your Dad.
Oh, God. I’m the worst son ever. I need to … need to talk to him.
“Damn it, amore,” Julius’s groggy voice says. “Please tell me those are happy tears. And even if they are, do me a favor and get rid of them before Papà Randall sees and uses me in my own pasta sauce.”
I laugh. “They’re happy tears.”
He kisses me good morning. “Happy birthday,la mia bellissima principessa danzante”
We make out. He gives me the blow job of the century, insisting that it’s my birthday after all and I don’t complain this time. Maybe it’s best to stock up on that kind of thing in case he decides to be a fucking sadist and deny me indefinitely. He would do that.
By nine, I’m dressed in my pink silk pajamas and black silk robe, ready to dance downstairs.
“Why don’t you go ahead of me, amore? I’m going to have a quick shower.”
I pirouette into the kitchen where Lakshan and Silas are cooking and Darius is next to Wyatt, reading the newspaper together. I’m intent on talking to Silas, but I’m distracted. On the table with a pretty pink collar is the most adorable ball of white fluff.
“Whose baby kitten is that?” I say racing over to claim him or her. If no one else has noticed them, they shall be mine.
“It’s redundant to say baby kitten,” Darius says.
“Then I’ll name the kitten Baby. Problem solved.” I lift them in my arms and get cute little kitten licks on my nose.
“That’s your kitten,” Silas says. “Julius got her for you, but he had to run it by me of course.”
In other words, he gets credit too.
“I have a kitten? Baby, I’m naming them Baby. No wait Cloud … or Rainbow. This is hard. Are they a boy or girl?”
“She’s a girl,” Silas answers.
“Which is fucking wrong—now there isn’t balance in the Randall pet world,” Darius says.
“Um, did you forget about Octavius? He’s a boy. That makes it even,” I say.
“Octavius is not a pet. He doesn’t count. When your animals can have conversations with you, we’ll upgrade them too.”
“Then I guess we need a boy kitten,” Silas says, walking over to hand meanotherwhite kitten. He’s got a blue collar.
I’m drowning in kittens.Bestday of my life.
“This one’s from me. My kitten is better,” Silas proclaims. “Far more well-behaved.”
That’s probably just with Silas though like with all things. Both kittens are vying to lick me with equal vigor.
By the time Julius enters, his hair damp, smiling his large toothy smile, I’ve named them Romeo and Giulietta and they’re attacking Jarvis and Gen who are trying to figure them out.
“She’s beautiful, Juli. Is anyone going to tell me the story of how you two went cat shopping together?” I ask once we’ve sat down to eat.
“It was simple,” Silas begins. “He asked if he could get you a cat. I said only if I approve of the place the cat came from. It wouldn’t do if the cat wasn’t in good health, you fell in love with it, only for it to die a year later.”
Oddly specific. Why do I feel like there’s another story there? I give Julius a silent apology. I’m sure he’s intelligent enough to find a healthy kitten, but Silas is Silas.
“I thought you would love him. Julius thought you would love her. We got you both. I paid an exorbitant amount so the lady in charge would bring them early this morning. And it was an adoption center—a higher-end adoption center—the fees you pay cover costs at the center. I also made a generous donation in your name.”
