“Her car’s still here,” Noah said.
“Out walking the cliffs, then.” Anne crossed her arms, realizing after the fact that she was mirroring Claire’s body language. Noah noticed it too; she could tell by the glint of amusement in his eyes as he looked from mother to daughter. “What did you need?”
“I just wanted to let her know that I’m going to get started on the roof.”
Anne’s blood pressure jumped again. “What’s wrong with the roof?”
“Nothing that a fresh coat of paint won’t fix. Just some minor leaks that we want to get ahead of while the weather’s dry.”
Anne noted his use of the word ‘we’ and let it pass.
“So what do we feed him?” Pete asked. “The mongoose?”
Noah stepped closer to get a better look at the pup in Pete’s arms. “You can give him kitten formula mixed half and half with soy milk.”
“Soy milk?” Anne said. “Really?”
“That’s what the rescues do,” he said with a shrug. “And a buddy of mine who found some orphaned pups, that’s what he did. Only one of them made it. They were a lot smaller than this one, though. Probably sick already. This guy looks pretty healthy. Are you sure he doesn’t have a mama?”
“Roadkill,” Pete said shortly.
“Right. Well.” Noah stroked the pup’s head with one broad finger. “This guy looks old enough for solid food. You give him cans of kitten food during the day and wake up a few times a night to give him a warm bottle of milk, that should do it.”
“I can do that,” Pete said earnestly. “I can set alarms on my watch.”
Noah whistled, low and quiet. “That’s one fancy watch.”
“My dad gave it to me,” he said indifferently. “It’s his old one. It tracks steps and miles and stuff. But it can do alarms too.”
The back door opened, and Zoe paused halfway into the kitchen.
“Family reunion?” she asked in a flat voice.
“I’m just here to paint the roof,” Noah said.
“Right.”
“He was telling me how to take care of my pet mongoose,” Pete said with a grin.
Zoe’s eyes narrowed. “Your what?”
“I found a mongoose in the bushes. Look!” He walked towards Zoe, but she crossed her arms and shook her head.
“You can’t keep that thing. It’s like keeping a rat.”
“That’s cool! I always wanted a pet rat.”
“Okay, but it’s not a pet rat. It’s a wild animal.”
“Does he look wild to you?” Pete asked, peeling away a corner of the towel. The tiny pup blinked up at them, then closed its eyes and curled into Pete’s chest.
“It’s cute now, but it won’t stay that little for long.”
“His mom is dead,” Pete told her. “He needs me.”
“They’re native to India. They don’t belong in Hawaii.”
“It’s not his fault he was born here!”
