“Yes, I’m fine, thanks.”
He looked at the basket I was still holding. “I was talking about Merry and Bright.”
“Oh.” I snorted, because of course he was. “Yes. They’re doing great! But I worry that Bright isn’t getting enough to eat, and I was wondering about introducing solids.”
“Your text messages,” he said quietly.
“Yes. Sorry, I kept pressing Send and then I worriedthat what I’d said could be taken a dozen different ways and?—”
“You didn’t reply to me.”
I stopped. “Oh. I’m sorry. I got so busy. Well, first of all, Ro confiscated my phone for a while. We had to test the point-of-sale system again and the accounts program. It’s all integrated, as you know. Of course you know; you’ve seen it. Anyway, I had some invoices to pay. I wanted to get them out of the way before I open tomorrow, and the accounting software should be automated but it wasn’t automating. Anyway, I found the reason. It was totally my fault, which is not surprising in the least. God, I’ll stop talking now.”
He was staring past me, in that way that he does, his eyes darting to mine for a second before going back to the basket. He reached in, found Bright in his little warm hidey hole in the blankets.
“He looks bigger already,” he said, and thus began the actual vet appointment. He weighed them both, checked them both over, asked all the questions about feeding and toileting. He was very happy with their progress. Even sweet little Merry passed with flying colors.
Deacon produced some samples of kitten food and showed me how to put a small amount on my finger and see if Bright was interested.
Oh boy, was he interested.
He made the cutest little savage noise as he munched on my finger. “Ow. Well, those little teeth sure work fine,” I said, looking to see if he actually drew blood.
He hadn’t, thankfully.
Deacon laughed as Bright went a bit feral looking for more of my tasty finger. “Oh yes, he’s ready.”
Then it was Merry’s turn.
I put some on my finger. Merry’s little eyes went wide and he licked at first, but then greedily gobbled it down,making the cutest little noises ever. “Ooh, gremlin mode activated,” I said. “But he’s still the sweet one. Bright’s permanently in gremlin mode.”
Deacon’s smile was everything.
The way he held Bright made my heart so freaking happy.
He then showed me how to introduce more and more solid food over the next week, and noted that within two weeks they should be off the milk formula for good.
I was excited to hear that, even if it meant they were growing up so fast.
“I ordered one of those kiddie playpen things,” I said. “Because they can’t stay in the basket forever, and a bunch of different toys that simulate learning.” I’d probably spent far too much money on them, but whatever. “It will fit in the storeroom at work if need be. Just while they’re so little, it might have to be bring-your-kids-to-work days.”
Deacon made sure they were both back in their blankets with the hot water bottle. “You’re doing a great job with them.”
“Thanks.”
His cheeks went pink again. “You’re wearing the scarf I gave you.”
I patted the purple polar fleece. “I love it.” Then I pulled the ends of it out of my sweater. “Even if the logo is a worming medication, the text is black, gray, and white, and those are the asexual flag colors. So you literally couldn’t have picked a better scarf for me.”
He ducked his head, his expression happy and shy. “I did some research on that.”
“So I’m not like a Komodo dragon or a starfish anymore?”
He chuckled and shook his head. “No.” Then he shrugged. “Unless you want to be.”
“Uh, not particularly.”
“I understand it better now.”
