Now, everyone loved Ro. She wore bright colors, had cool gray curly hair, bright heavy rimmed glasses and lipstick, and her entire vibe was approachable and fun. These three teens were no exception.
“Hi,” they chorused, more enthusiastically than they’d greeted me.
“Who wants to see something really cool?” Ro asked, then produced the laundry basket.
They stared at her.
But then the blankets rustled and Bright stuck his head out and gave the cutest little meow ever.
The three kids squealed and swarmed Ro. “Come in out of the cold,” she said, and they all disappeared inside.
“Ah, the little rescues,” Gunter said. “How are they doing?”
“Yeah, growing like weeds, or so Ro said.”
“You’re keeping them?”
“Yep. I did feel obligated because, you know.” I grimaced. “I was the one to orphan them. But they’ve grown on me. I could do without the lack of sleep though.”
He laughed. “I bet. They got names?”
“Merry and Bright.”
He grinned. “Very festive.”
“Deacon named them. It was written on the box I took them to the vet in. If it were up to me, I’d have probably called them Mr. Darcy and Heathcliff or something else just as literarily insufferable and conceited. Merry and Bright suits them.”
His eyes met mine, and he nodded slowly, smiling. “And how are things with Deacon?”
I groaned. “Ugh. I don’t know. I would have said going well, but then last night I think I upset him. I’m not entirely sure what that was. Well, there were a few things, which I won’t bore you with, but anyway, he left rather abruptly, and I may have sent a barrage of apologetic texts this morning until Ro confiscated my phone.” I patted down my pockets, finding nothing but keys. “I should check to see if he replied.”
“Ah, I see. So things aren’t going that well.”
I sighed and shrugged with as much disappointment and pity as I could muster. “I wouldn’t think so, no.”
“Okay, well, crap,” he mumbled, seeing a man walking toward us. Gunter turned to block him from my view. “Because here comes his father.”
Then he turned and greeted him, and yes, I could seenow that it was, in fact, Deacon’s father. They looked a lot alike. Gunter held out his hand with a bright smile. “Wayne,” he said. “Good to see you again.”
“Yes, same,” he replied to him before eyeing me nervously.
“Do you know Winter?” Gunter asked.
“Yes, we’ve met,” Wayne said. “At the clinic.”
“Oh, of course,” Gunter said. “The kittens.”
“Hi,” I said, feeling suddenly very nervous and possibly nauseous.
“Can we have a little chat?” Wayne asked. “I know you’re busy, but I won’t take much of your time. A few minutes, that’s all.”
“Oh.” I tried to swallow. “Is... is everything okay?”
He smiled. “It is. Nothing bad. I didn’t mean to scare you or anything.”
I made a face. Well, more of a face than I was already making. “Am I that obvious?”
Gunter snorted and clapped my shoulder. “I’ll go wrangle these kids,” he said, opening the door to my store. “Come on, guys, we have a café to open.”
