Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83039 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83039 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“Knox?” Dad yelled from over by the grill as I pocketed my phone. “Can you bring up some towels? Some kids got into the garden sprinkler.”
“I’ll grab them.” I turned to head back to the house, but Jessica touched my sleeve.
“Thanks. And remember, don’t let that cat of yours out.” She made a face that Angie, her sister, echoed.
“Are we even sure it’s a house cat?” Angie had a laugh like an old parrot, and it was going to be a hell of a long summer with her in the house. She was training to be a doula, and I knew she’d help Jessica, but she sure could grate on my nerves. “Kitty looks like something we might throw on the barbie back home.”
“He’s probably a Maine Coon. They can get big.” I hated how defensive I sounded. Who cared what they thought of my cat? I hurried downstairs to the laundry room to rescue an armful of towels from the dryer, only to turn and almost run into Monroe at the bottom of the stairs.
“Need help with the towels?” Mouth twisting, he held out his arms, eyes darting around as if he wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing here. That made two of us.
“I’ve got it, but thanks.” I didn’t pass over the towels, instead staring him down, daring him to tell me why he was really downstairs.
“This your baby?” he asked, crossing over to my futon in the corner of the basement room. Beyond this unfinished space was a playroom for the girls and a small bathroom, but the laundry area itself was long and narrow with a cement floor, high-capacity washer and dryer, laundry sink, and exactly enough room for a futon for me and a couple of stackable plastic containers for my crap.
“My…” It took me a second to realize he meant Wallace, who was sprawled on the futon. I’d wedged his scratching post against the wall and his covered box in the corner. “Oh yeah, the cat. Meet Wallace.” I shifted the towels so I could reach down and give him a scratch. He was gray and white striped with the classic shaggy Maine Coon fur and delicate lynx-like features. “When I found him after Christmas this past year, he was a lot smaller, more like four pounds. Now he’s sixteen pounds, but he really is still a baby.”
“So he might still grow more?” Unlike a lot of people, he didn’t seem cowed by Wallace’s size, giving him pets. When our hands brushed while giving Wallace attention, we pulled apart, but not before an electric shock zoomed up my arm. Damn, I wanted to be back on that dance floor so badly. But no, I was in this dingy basement admiring my cat and trying not to jump Monroe.
“Vet wasn’t sure. He’s probably close to a year now. I saved enough to cover his vaccines and neutering, so he’s all up-to-date.” I scratched behind Wallace’s big pointy ears. He rolled to show us his pale furry belly, and Monroe laughed.
“Someone wants a belly rub.” He reached out to oblige the cat, and it took all my self-control not to make a crack about being willing to rub Monroe’s belly too. His gaze shifted from the cat to my corner of the room. “This is a teeny space.”
“It’s fine.” I readjusted the armload of towels. “I lived in dorms for three years and shared a tiny apartment for another two. I can sleep pretty much anywhere. At least if I stay here, I can help out.”
“You seem good at that.” His voice was solemn, not the jolly praise I was used to, but something more serious than the endless stream of compliments from outsiders who thought our blended family was adorable.
“I try.” Somehow, I could be more serious with Monroe in return, letting a little struggle show in my tone. “The triplets came when I was in college, but that’s partly why I needed a fifth year. I took a term off to stay here and help with the babies. Angie and Jessica’s mom were around some too, but three babies were a ton of work.”
“I bet.” Our eyes met, conversation happening on a level so deep, I wasn’t even sure what was being said, only that he understood far more than most. I took a step toward him, and he didn’t back away. The air seemed to thicken, even Wallace sensing a seismic shift, fur crackling as he stretched and turned his back on us. Privacy. We had—
“Knox?” My name sounded from somewhere upstairs, and I groaned like I’d taken a punch. The moment lost, Monroe was already in motion, grabbing half the towels and heading for the stairs.
“We better get the towels out to the kids.” He bustled ahead of me, and then I was swept up in a flurry of requests as the food came off the grill.