“She was shivering.” Kenzie doesn’t look up at me, her head still bent over her folded arms.
“She?”
I lean around to see the black bundle of fuzz in my roommate’s sweater-covered arms, its eyes barely open. A kitten. Her fur is matted with brambles and mud, her tiny paw bloody.
My heart flips in my chest.
“Let’s take her to Fur-Ever Homes.” I stoop to pick up Kenzie’s phone but stop before offering my hand.
Kenzie gets up on her own, thanking me as I open the passenger side of my truck. I hesitate before deciding I’m being ridiculous.
“Let me buckle you so you don’t have to set her down,” I say, reaching across Kenzie as quickly and efficiently as I can.
It doesn’t take us long before we’re pulling into the parking lot of the animal shelter where I fell in love with Banks. I’d been feeling listless during the offseason and planned on getting a dog—a fluffy companion with lots of energy that I could run and play with. I had a whole month to train a dog before I had to report for spring training, but when I walked into the shelter, a vet tech had been carrying bandaged-up Banks.
After I asked what happened to him, I knew he needed to come home with me. I’d already spoken to my part-time personal assistant about arranging for pet-sitting interviews and quickly texted him that I needed someone who had experience with cats instead of dogs. I had Banks to myself for a week before hiring Kenzie because she was the most qualified. Having taken care of a multitude of barn cats growing up and being a self-declaredcat lady, Kenzie knew almost as much as the vet tech had. We took turns caring for Banks, nursing him back to health.
Dr. Marlene Brooks, one of the veterinarians whom I called on the way over, meets us in the entry and takes us straight back to an exam room. Sometimes the perks of being a partial-celebrity are extremely useful.
The exam room smells faintly of disinfectant and coffee, Dr. Brooks’sAnimals Are Better Than Peopletumbler steaming by the computer. After gingerly taking the kitten from Kenzie’sarms and setting her on a warm towel atop the stainless-steel exam table, Dr. Brooks performs a thorough assessment.
She runs a thumb along the kitten’s spine beneath the mud-caked fur. “She’s cold and dehydrated. Probably had been out there a while. But her heart sounds good, and I don’t feel any broken bones.”
A relieved, silent exhale escapes my lungs as Dr. Brooks sets her in a warming box that looks similar to what they put babies in after they’re born. The kitten makes a pitiful squeak before immediately curling up, wrapping her tail around herself.
“What about her paw?” Kenzie asks, hugging herself.
“A simple abrasion. It should heal nicely once we get her clean, but she needs to be warmed and rehydrated first. Washing her before she’s stabilized could push her body temperature even lower.” Dr. Brooks tugs her exam glasses down to dangle around her neck with a gentle, open expression. “What other questions do you have?”
Kenzie chews on her lip, hesitating. “When can we take her home?”
Something about Kenzie’s use of the wordwerocks me to my core. I should be solely focused on the kitten’s well-being, but a flicker of hope ignites in my chest.
After not talking to Kenzie for the last few days, I’d half-expected her to march out of her room and notify me that she was moving out. I assumed she’d tell me to find another person to take care of Banks while I’m traveling for games because it’scompletely unacceptable for her roommate/boss to try to kiss her.
Kenzie would be one thousand percent correct. I’d essentially created a toxic living/work environment for her because I couldn’t keep my own emotions in check. Guilt licks at my spine like a corrosive acid.
The vet smiles. “I’d like to keep her overnight, but if everything goes well, she can go home with you tomorrow.”
Kenzie’s eyes blink up at me, questioning.
I clear my dry throat. “Sounds good to me.”
“Do you—” She twists her lips to the side, and I brace myself for a different kind of question. Are we going to have this conversation beneath the watchful gaze of Dr. Brooks while the incubator hums in the corner? “Do you think Banks would be okay with a kitten?”
Relief seeps into my bones, and for the first time in days, the tension between my shoulder blades releases.
“Banks will love her,” I say without hesitation. That cat has the sweetest soul, secondary only to Kenzie’s.
Her lips slowly slide up, her gaze softening in mesmerizing increments. I’m helpless to do anything but smile back, my heartbeat heavy in my chest.
Kenzie looks away first, focusing back on Dr. Brooks. “What should we do after that?”
Dr. Brooks details instructions on keeping the kitten warm, feeding her small amounts of kitten formula every few hours,and checking her gums for paleness or tackiness. She mentions she’ll also send along step-by-step instructions for introducing a kitten to an older cat.
“I’ll want her back in a few days for a recheck and to start her deworming and flea prevention. In the meantime, I’m sure you’ll both take excellent care of her,” Dr. Brooks adds with a smile.
Chapter 14
