Sandra was perhaps a little punch drunk from all the litterbox fumes, I decided, but I was too polite to remark on that out loud.
Hen, apparently not distracted as I was by her behavior, just smiled and stood up. “Thanks, Sandra. I’ll talk to you then.”
From her carrier on the ground, Curie let out a yowl, apparently having picked up on the fact that Hen standing up meant things were about to start moving. I reached down and patted the top of the carrier as if it were her head. “Shh, baby, you’ll be home soon.”
Sandra let out a high-pitched little sigh of longing and clasped her hands under her chin. “You’re going to be such a good cat dad.” She gestured to the carriers that held Kellogg and Minnie. “Now, go take your girls to their new home. Keep in mind that they’ll probably be feeling overwhelmed at first; don’t be surprised if they hide under the bed or the couch and won’t come out. Give them time to settle before you freak out about them hating you.”
She sounded like she spoke from vast experience, which, in her line of work, she presumably did. Still, it was a good reminder, and I made a mental note to try not to freak out if the cats seemed to hate me at first. “Thanks.” I offered her my hand, which she regarded with surprise for a split second before shaking it. “I really appreciate all your help.”
She smiled warmly at me. “I’m just a phone call away if you need anything. Don’t hesitate to reach out to me if you need to. But then…” She glanced from me to Hen. “It seems like your boyfriend can probably answer most cat questions too.”
“Oh, we’re not -” I began, glancing worriedly at Hen to see his reaction. Would he be offended at being referred to wrongly as my boyfriend?
At the same time, he opened his mouth and blurted, “We’re just -” As our voices crossed in the ether, he snapped his mouth shut and looked at me, wide-eyed. “Uh, I mean,” he managed after a long moment, “we’re just friends.”
Sandra was having none of it. She openly rolled her eyes. “Ok, boys, if you say so. Then yourfriend-” And here she winked broadly “- can probably answer your questions too. But still, call if you need me.”
“I will,” I assured her, choosing to ignore her continued insinuations. We exchanged polite goodbyes and I picked up my two carriers and Hen his one. We made our way out of the shelter slowly, doing our best not to bang the carriers into anything, until finally we were at our cars. Hen carefully buckled Curie’s carrier into the passenger side of his truck - was I supposed to buckle the cats in? That hadn’t occurred to me until I saw him do it, and I felt like I was already failing as a cat dad for not thinking of it - and then turned to me. “So, Wednesday afternoon, right? Text me what time you want to meet.”
A good reason to text Hen? Didn’t mind if I did. I nodded firmly. “Definitely. I’ll keep you updated.” I hefted Kellogg’s carrier up a few inches demonstratively. “I guess I should get these girls home.”
He nodded. “Yeah, give them a chance to decompress. Call me if you need help.” The smile he offered me was warm and encouraging, and I felt like I’d just been metaphorically hugged. “Thanks for inviting me along on your cat hunting so I met Solo. I can’t believe I’m impulse-adopting a second cat.”
“Is it really an impulse adoption when you’ve filled out a form and are having to wait a few days for them to check your references?” I pointed out. “And when you made sure your existing cat got to meet Solo first? I think at this point it’s a well-considered adoption, honestly.” I offered him a grin. “Just like a grown-up would do.”
“Who you calling a ‘grown-up’?” he shot back. “I’m still young and impulsive!”
I snorted. “Ok, old man.”
“Hey, now. Go get your cats home,” he urged, waving me toward my car but looking pretty reluctant to see me go at the same time. “Pet them for me if they let you.”
“Will do. I…” Did I dare do what I wanted? Fuck it, I decided. The man had been nothing but good to me, I liked him, and I wanted a damn hug. “Can I hug you?” I asked, setting the cat carriers down.
Hen’s face broke into a wide grin. “Hell yeah.”
Not waiting for any more assurances, I threw my arms around him and gave him a squeeze. “Thank you,” I said into his shoulder.
He patted my back and squeezed me back. “Ditto.” He let me go and I pulled back reluctantly, not wanting to linger and make it awkward. “Go on. I’ll see you Wednesday.”
I gave him an awkward little wave and then picked the cat carriers back up. “See you.” And then I turned and went to my car to bring my new companions home.
15
Henry
Week 8 - Friday night
It had taken nearly a week, but Sandra had gotten in touch with my references and my vet, all of whom had signed off on my being a reliable and trustworthy cat owner. Solo could be mine!
I loaded my new, second cat carrier into the truck and slammed the door. I didn’t need to coordinate with Jamison this time - it had seemed like it would be weird to invite him along to basically watch me sign some paperwork and go home - so I was wholly on my own schedule. I’d worked this morning, but as the day wore on my nerves, excitement got the better of me and I’d decided that rather than screw up a project or lose a finger, I’d just chill. So I’d spent the afternoon watchingTheGreat British Bake-Offon my couch with Curie curled in my lap. It had been delightful. It wasn’t that my job was really stressful - I did what I loved, and most of the time the work was meditative and comforting - but it still felt nice to basically play hooky for an afternoon just to relax and pet my cat.
The problem with spending the afternoon on the couch, though, had been that time passed slowly, and I’d been checking my phone what felt like every two minutes for the last three hours, waiting for it to be close to the time I’d told Sandra I’d be there to pick Solo up. When I’d scheduled with her, I’d been assuming I’d spend the day working as normal, and the evening made sense. By hour two ofGBBO, it made a lot less sense and I had been kicking myself.
But now it was time. I walked around the truck to the driver’s side and slid into the seat. Just as I was preparing to press theStartbutton, my phone buzzed and I snatched it up, part of me afraid it was Sandra calling to sayJust kidding, you can’t have Solo after all. I heaved out a sigh of relief when I realized it wasn’t a phone call at all, but a text. One from Jamison.
Jamison:Tell Solo ‘hi’ for me and give him a snuggle if he’ll let you.
I smiled. I could only hope Solo would be chill about his sudden change in location and let me pet, let alone snuggle, him.
