Brianna: I take Rufus and Winslow to Dr. Spangler. Why?
I shake my head. Bri’s less than ten years older than I am, but she and my dad have been married for about five years now. They seem happy, at least a lot happier than Dad was when he was married to my mom. Those two were completely incompatible, and it’s kind of a miracle they stayed in the same room together long enough to conceive me. Bri might be flighty and materialistic, but that doesn’t bother my dad at all. He’s happy for the arm candy, and she's happy for the bank account. It’s a mutually beneficial relationship, and since I no longer have to share a roof with them, their marriage is none of my business.
What I do need to know is what vet to call for Hazel. And since my precious cat originally belonged to my stepmom, I figured she’d know. Dad gifted Hazel to Bri last Christmas, but Bri’s Great Danes, Rufus and Winslow, thought she was a toy for them to play with. I put a stop to that right away. I never planned on being a cat dad, but one look at Hazel and I was done for. She’s the fluffiest, sweetest princess in all the land. Plus, her fur is actually blue. If that’s not destiny, I don’t know what is.
Since my travel schedule was crazy last semester, and since our building didn’t allow pets, I left Hazel at home with Dad and Bri after winter break. My father and his wife are two of the most self-involved people I’ve ever met, but all they had to do was care for her until summer break, take her to the vet, and keep her from being smothered by Rufus and Winslow, so it couldn’t have been that hard. Could it?
Blue: Is that where you took Hazel to get spayed last spring?
Brianna: No
Blue: Ok, so where did you take her? I just need the number. She hasn’t been feeling that great, and I want to run her in for a checkup.
Brianna: I never took Hazel to the vet.
Blue: Did Dad?
I can’t picture my dad hauling a cat carrier into the vet’s office, but he’s got a soft spot for Bri, so anything’s possible.
Brianna: Of course not. He hates cats.
Blue: So who took her to the vet to get her shots and get spayed?
Brianna: I guess you did?
Blue: No, I definitely did not. I was away at school. And I remember you telling me you’d make an appointment for her.
Brianna: Oh, that’s right. I did make an appointment for her, but I had to cancel. Don’t you remember that I had surgery, and the recovery was awful.
Blue: Did you reschedule?
Brianna: I haven’t had time, and she’s your cat. You really should take her to Dr. Spangler. She’s so good with my boys. I hope she can fit you into the schedule. It’s not the smartest move for Hazel to be roaming around without her shots. And you need to get her spayed ASAP. That’s just part of responsible pet ownership.
I mentally pat myself on the back for not hurling my phone through the air and letting it smash against the wall. I’m too busy this week to deal with the hassle of replacing my phone, and no tantrum I throw is going to make Bri make sense. The “awful recovery” from surgery that she’s talking about is the fact that she couldn’t smile for a week after getting too much filler in her lips.
And I don’t need her to lecture me on responsibility.
What I need is to get Hazel to a vet becausefuuuuuuuuuuck.
Dammit, my cat hasn’t been spayed. I’ve never seen her go into heat, but I don’t even know what the hell that looks like. What I do know is that my sweet, precious girl has been out of sorts lately. And it’s been a little over a month since we caught her with her mangy boy toy, Mr. Tittles.
Son of a motherfucking trucker,I mutter to myself, stroking Hazel’s fur with one hand and scrolling through my phone with the other.
“Everything okay in here?” Sparky asks, standing in the doorway.
The short answer is no. Everything is not okay. And it hasn’t been since I opened Liza’s computer a few days ago, but I can't share that information with my best friend, no matter how trustworthy he is. I made a promise to Liza, and I’m not breaking it.
But I don’t have to keep quiet about everything that’s got my life turned upside down. I scratch Hazel’s chin before looking up at Sparky. “Dude, I think I’m gonna be a grandpa.”
8
Liza
The life of an equipment manager is not a glamorous one. I’m knee deep in laundry right now, there are blades to sharpen, jerseys to repair, and I still have to prep the locker rooms and benches for tomorrow’s game. There’s no way I’m getting out of here before midnight, since Isaac called in sick.
I didn’t know a thing about hockey when I took this job, but I’m a quick learner and it was the best paying job available at the time. It’s been more than two years, and I can easily say I have the best gig on campus. I really do love it here, but on nights like tonight, when the end of my to-do list is nowhere in sight, what I wouldn’t give to be a barista at Drip or a clerk in the records office.
But that’s what playlists are for. I find a good one and remind myself that I like eating regularly and paying my bills. Losing myself in music always helps the time go faster. And once the guys clear out, I can belt show tunes to my heart’s content.
