Beau glances up at me, tilting his head. A lock of hair falls over his forehead, making him look almost vulnerable. I shake my head. It’s curiosity, not vulnerability.
I realize the pause has stretched out long enough for Bluebeard to make his cautious way over to Beau. He pulls back a fraction of an inch. Just a twitch. Not enough to deter the cat from sniffing his knee.
“That’s so weird.” I’m whispering, afraid to break the spell and scare the normally nervous kitty.
He matches my tone. “What?”
“Like I said before. He’s nervous around strangers. I’ve never seen him go up to someone on the first day like that.”
He stays there still as a statue, even though his thighs must be fatigued from the extended squat. I don’t care how in shape you are. That position is not comfortable for an extended period.
“And why is that? You didn’t answer my question before.”
There’s a visceral twinge in my chest. It’s hard to think about and even harder to talk about. How could anyone hurt a poor, innocent animal? Bad enough we humans hurt each other, never mind a helpless little pet. “He was rescued from a guy who got caught hurting cats. There were three others in the house with various injuries. They were starving and abused. It breaks my heart, but a couple of them didn’t make it after they were brought here. But Bluebeard’s a survivor, aren’t you, mister?”
I step closer to them, stooping but not touching him even though I’m itching to stroke that soft fur. Maybe steal his attention back. There’s a hint of resentment simmering inside. It’s terrible. I should be happy the cat is coming out of his shell after his traumatic past. But of course he goes to Beau. Of course. The one who’s clearly uncomfortable even touching him. Feels like it might be a metaphor for him. Everything in life has come easily. He’s got no worries about where his tuition is coming from. I’m being ridiculous, and I know it, but I can’t help that tiny part of me deep down that resents his privilege.
“That’s awful.” His hand twitches again as if he’s tempted to reach out to pet Bluebeard, but he stops himself again. “Poor guy. Is that how he lost his eye?”
“Yes. I don’t know all the details, thank goodness. Knowing he’s been hurt at all is tough. He’s such a sweet guy once he lets down his guard.”
He nods, swiping his hands down the front of artfully faded jeans.
“We should get to work now. As much as I’d love to pet him and the other kitties all day, that’s not what we’re here for.”
“Right. Okay, buddy. I’ll see you around.” There’s an awkward stiffness in his tone when he talks to the cat.
It’s as if he’s never spoken to an animal before. Which may, in fact, be the case. Such a strange thought. I’ve been talking to animals since I could form words.
“We’re cleaning the cages.”
My eyes are locked on him as the realization hits, and all the softness is gone from his face. His full lips are pulled down at the corners, and he looks almost pained. There it is. This is the reaction I’ve been hoping for since I tricked him into this little adventure. But somehow, it’s not as satisfying as I thought it would be. I almost feel sorry for him.
“Cleaning.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll show you the ropes. Or the scoops, I guess you’d say.”
“Scoops?”
“Yeah, you know, to scoop out the poop.” I can’t quite keep the smile under control at the absolute horror on his face.
“Right. Okay. I’m glad to see you’re entertained.”
My smile turns into a laugh. “I’m sorry. It’s just you look so disgusted. But it’s just cat poop. It won’t kill you, I promise. I’m sure you’ve smelled much worse things in a dressing room after a game. Or living with a bunch of hockey players. Like the girls’ team gets stinky, but the guys. They’re rank. Don’t know how to look after their equipment properly.”
“Oh, I know how to look after my equipment.” His words are laden with sexual innuendo. How is he the one smiling? He seems to have slipped back into his usual smooth composure as if it’s a pair of clothes he’s particularly at ease in. A smirk twitches at the corners of his lips, and the heat radiating off him would be enough to keep all the kitties in the room happy and basking in warmth.
“Seriously? Ugh.” I shake my head, spinning on my heels to grab the supplies Damien left on the round table in the corner.
“What? I’m not into germs or messes. I clean and sanitize everything after every game and practice.”
“Sure, that’s what you meant.”
“Not my fault if you’re reading things into my words.”
I shake my head as I’m hefting the big white body off the cleaning rags. My fingers sink into his silky long coat. “Blizzard. These are not for you.” The cat goes limp in my arms, ignoring my scolding as his entire body starts vibrating from the intensity of his purrs. The felines run the show around here. As I’m placing him on the floor, Smoke jumps on the table, curling up on the warm spot I just removed the white cat from. It’s like they’re taunting me.
The soft laughter behind me turns into a full-blown laugh, and I spin around, ready to yell at Beau. My shout turns into a gasp when I find him inches away from me. The chest I’m staring at is shaking with laughter. He has a sense of humor. Figures it’s at my expense.
