“Reginald!” I laugh.
“Nance said it was dignified, and he had this way of looking at everyone like he was better than them, so the name actually fit.”
Grinning, I tuck my hand under the pillow, settling in for this unexpectedly funny childhood story. “What was Reginald like?”
“An asshole. He meowed constantly, clawed at my door whenever I tried to shut him out, demanded to be picked up and the second I did, he scratched up my arms for no reason.”
Reginald definitely sounds like an asshole.
I have never had a pet, but this cat makes me feel extremely wary about ever being near one or letting one get near me. “So you hated the cat?”
I know I would.
He puts his mouth right beside my ear, as if terrified someone will overhear, and whispers. “IlikedReginald, even though he had a stupid name and left me with lifelong scars. He snuggled in my lap and let me pet him when I felt the loneliest, and he always wanted to sleep curled up by my feet at night. Nance knew I needed a friend, and she gave me one that my dad couldn’t take away from me.” He grins at me. “My dad was allergic, so he stayed away from anywhere Reginald was.”
I love Nance more and more every day.
I smile. “Nance scared me at first, mostly because I think she hated me, but you were lucky to have her in your corner.”
I’d have loved to have someone like Nance fighting in mine.
He returns my smile. “She didn’t hate you. Nance worried you were here to take advantage of me, but as soon as she realized she was wrong about you, she was the first to admit it and determined to go after you and bring you back here safely.”
My eyes water. “Really?”
“Really. I didn’t always appreciate everything she did for me, but I do now. She’s like a mom, grandma, housekeeper, and fierce defender all rolled into one. And she’s always been there for me.”
“Reginald sounds… scary,” I admit, and that’s putting it mildly. “Dignified name and all, I’m not sure I’d have been in a hurry to keep picking up a cat that used my arms as scratching posts.”
He laughs. “Yeah.”
“What happened to Reginald?”
His smile dims. “He got old and died.”
“Time moves too fast.”
“It does.”
I lean in and kiss his cheek. “Sorry you lost Reginald.”
His eyes widen in surprise, then soften in pleasure. He takes my hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. “I was lucky to have him. Not that I thought I’d ever be grateful when Nance thrust a pissed-off cat at me and told me to take it.”
We both laugh.
Only when our laughter fades do I realize how much I like talking to Nash, and how easy it is. From his smile, I hope he thinks the same about me.
“It’s late. We can go to sleep if you want. I promise not to hog all the sheets.”
“Doyou want to sleep?”
His two-second pause is all the answer I need.
“Do you?” he asks instead of answering.
“No.”
His eyes drop to my mouth. “Talk?”
