“What just happened?” I ask.
The cat tips her head, nudging me softly to pet her. I give in and tickle the downy-soft fur on her neck. “Are you my cat now?”
Her purr of ascent warms my heart. Mine.
Is that what Luke meant?
Or am I—as usual—reading everything utterly wrong?
Chapter 10
Hazel
“Is anyone having dessert?”
I look from Lucy to Erika, who both shake their heads.
“I need to get back to work.” Erika takes her last bite of sandwich and starts on the rest of her French fries. “Don’t let me stop you, though.”
“I’m making cheesecake tonight for Sunday’s family dinner,” Lucy says. “And you know how baking days go.”
I don’t, since I can’t say I’ve ever baked cheesecake. But I take my best guess. “You graze as you work?”
“You know it.” Lucy laughs. “Gotta taste test all the ingredients, right?”
“I’m excited you’re hosting,” Erika tells me. “I can’t wait to meet Squash. She sounds adorable.”
“She’s the sweetest,” I agree. “Smart, too. The video tutorial for my new robotic litterbox said most cats take weeks to figure it out. Squash mastered it the first day.”
Erika chuckles. “You sound like a proud mama.”
I feel myself blanch and cover it fast by forking a big bite of salad into my mouth.
“Where did you buy the robotic litterbox?” Lucy asks. “I’ve been meaning to get one for Clawdia.”
“Oh, um.” I really can’t lie. “Luke Lovelin—you guys know him, right?”
They both give me duh looks. “Of course,” Lucy says. “Remember? We ran into the two of you at the clinic in Salem.”
“Right.” I feel Erika staring holes into the side of my head. I might not have mentioned that. She might be my closest friend, but she’s also engaged to my cousin. That makes her family, so I haven’t been ready to share.
Such a tangled web. Thank God I only have two days until family dinner, when I’m planning to make my announcement. I’ve been writing a script and rehearsing. I only get one chance to do this, and I’m desperate to have it go right.
But for now, I’m stuck being vague. “Luke found a used robot cat box somewhere near Sheridan. The electronic parts weren’t working, but he fixed it up and brought it over.”
He also oiled all the hinges on my doors so squeaks won’t wake napping babies. And rewired a light switch to easily turn on the red lamp for nighttime feeding. And?—
“That’s sweet,” Lucy says.
“Very generous,” Erika adds. “Those robot litterbox things are expensive.”
“So I’ve heard.” But Luke wouldn’t hear of letting me pay him for it.
“I read about toxoplasmosis and pregnancy,” he said when he showed up with the cat box. “I don’t want you touching any cat litter. If this needs to be emptied, you call me. Understand?”
Agreeing seemed easier than arguing, though I don’t love being bossed around.
Or maybe I don’t hate it that much. Letting someone look after me isn’t the worst thing. I just wish he’d let me do it for him.
