Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 131459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
“Dad’s grabbing your balls and racket and he’ll bring them when he comes. Is that okay?”
“Perfect, Clay. You’re a hero.”
“I don’t think…I don’t think…” Clay was suddenly stammering, and Tom heard a woman say, “Give me your phone, baby.” Then he had Clay’s mother. “Hi, Tom. I’m Priscilla.”
“Hello, Priscilla.”
“The kitten isn’t in good shape, Tom. Brayton says it’s breathing, but I’m not sure it’ll make it to the hospital.”
“I’ll warn them, Priscilla.”
“We’ll get there as soon as we can.”
“Great, see you when you get here.”
“’Bye.”
She was gone.
The receptionist hadn’t come back to her desk, so Tom moved through the door to the exam rooms at the back. He found his way to a large treatment area where they had the four kittens on an exam table. They’d already arranged heated blankets for them to lie on, and it was all hands on deck inserting lines, something that had to be excruciatingly difficult, getting those into tiny, dehydrated kitten veins.
“Hey, you can’t be back…holy Moses,” the vet said, catching sight then staring at him.
“Another kitten is coming in. It was separated, probably exposed, and it might be in worse shape than these,” he informed them.
“Grab another bag,” the vet ordered the receptionist, who hustled to some storage, then she was back to Tom. “We have our hands full. Bring it back when it arrives?”
He nodded and left them to it.
As he went, his phone made a noise.
He looked at it and realized Mika was still waiting.
He reengaged the call and put it to his ear.
“Sorry,” he said to her. “Got a call another kitten was found.”
“What?”
“I was at some public courts and found a box of deserted kittens. They’re in bad shape. A kid was there, and while I took the box to the vet, I asked him to look to see if there were more from the litter that was dumped. He found one. He and his mom are bringing it in.”
“Where are you?”
“A twenty-four-hour vet hospital on Shea.”
“Are you sticking around?”
Was he sticking around?
What kind of question was that?
“I’m responsible for these animals now, Mika,” he bit off.
“All right,” she said softly.
“We need to talk but I’ll call you later.”
He was currently outside the front door, waiting for Clay and Priscilla.
“I’ll let you go then.”
“I’ll call you later.”
“Right, Tom. Later.”
“Later.”
He disconnected.
Priscilla and Clay showed, Clay getting out of the car holding a tiny kitten like it was priceless porcelain, but what it definitely was, was the runt of the litter.
Tom approached, and Clay pulled back protectively.
He read that for what it was.
“Okay, bud, let me just touch him, all right?” he asked.
“She’s a her,” Clay informed him.
“Okay, can I check her pulse?”
Clay nodded.
Priscilla moved close to them.
Tom wrapped two fingers around the miniscule chest.
At first he was worried, then he felt it, so faint, it was almost not there.
No time to waste.
“Let’s get her in,” he ordered.
He let Clay take her to the treatment space.
The vet nor the techs said anything as Tom moved Clay out of the way, and they stood side by side and watched them get to work.
“She’s not gonna make it, is she?” Clay whispered.
“You want her to make it?” Tom asked.
“Yeah. Like, she’s super cute and she weighs like, nothing. Not fair she doesn’t get to grow big.”
“I’ll tell you something I know about animals. They feel things from humans. They understand us. They communicate with us. They sense things from us. They know stuff. And she knows you’re rooting for her. So, since you saved her, I suspect she’ll give it all she’s got to stick with us.”
The vet took the earpieces of her stethoscope from her ears, glanced at him, then to the door, indication he needed to move Clay out.
Fuck.
Tom took the hint and said, “We have to give them space to do their jobs.”
It was clear Clay didn’t want to go, but he let Tom lead him back to the waiting room.
The woman with the cat asked, “How are they doing?”
Tom shook his head.
She frowned.
Clay sat by his mom, Tom sat by Clay.
Five minutes later, Clay’s dad walked in, Tom knew, because Clay jumped up, moved to him, and the man opened his arms.
Clay walked into them.
“How’s it going?” he murmured to his son.
“I don’t know, Dad. She’s so teeny.”
Father’s arms held fast.
Tom stood too and made his way over.
As Clay tucked himself into his dad’s side, Tom offered his hand.
“Tom Pierce.”
“I know, man. I’m Brayton Davis.”
“Pleasure,” Tom said.
“You could say that,” Davis replied, his lips twitching, his hold on his boy tight. “Got your stuff in my car.”
“Appreciated.”
“Not a problem. Though, I ’spect I should have taken a minute to stop by the pet store and get a litter box before I showed.”
Clay looked up at his dad at that. “I don’t think she’s gonna make it, Dad.”
Brayton looked down at his boy. “What kind of talk is that, son?”