“There’s nothing wrong with my station wagon,” Bea objected as the three of them scurried down the street to where Evie’s sports car was parked.
“Of course there’s not, honey,” Evie said. “I’m sure you’d have gotten her to the vet eventually.”
Bea huffed. “Perhaps we should race there.”
“No racing, please,” Charmaine begged. “I really want to get to the vet in one piece.”
“You’re right. Bea, this isn’t the time. Maybe later we can test out your theory on the drive to the inn.” Evie winked at Bea, who laughed.
They reached the blue sports car, and Evie opened the passenger door and slid the seat forwards for Bea, who climbed inelegantly into the back. Then she slid the seat back for Charmaine, who settled inside, being careful not to jostle Watson as much as she could manage. Evie jogged around to the driver’s side and joined them.
Once they were inside the car, the trip was a short one, and Charmaine soon had the cat safely handed off to the vet, who rushed him into an examination room. Charmaine followed while Bea and Evie stayed behind in the waiting room.
The vet examined the cat, who by that time was panting. “Did he eat anything unusual,” he asked.
Charmaine thought for a moment. “There was a piece of chocolate on the coffee table. I didn’t think to check if it was gone, I’m sorry.”
“What kind of chocolate?”
“Dark chocolate with almonds. It’s my favourite.”
He smiled. “Chocolate is toxic for cats. They don’t often partake, but if he ate even a little bit of it, he could get very sick. I’m going to induce vomiting and give him some charcoal,” he announced. “If he didn’t eat too much, he should recover within a few hours.”
Charmaine sighed with relief. “He’s going to be okay?”
“We’ll know for sure in three to five hours, but he looks healthy and strong. I don’t see why he wouldn’t recover. It’s good you brought him in now, though. If you’d waited, we might’ve had a different result.”
She joined Bea and Evie in the waiting room while Watson underwent his treatment, and slumped into a chair beside them.
“Any updates?” Evie asked cautiously.
“We think he ate chocolate. But the vet says he’s going to be fine.”
“Phew,” Bea said, resting a hand on Charmaine’s arm. “That was a little stressful. I remember taking Fudge to the vet once when he was a puppy and he ate some chocolate he found stashed under Harry’s bed. It’s a horrible feeling.”
“I didn’t even think about it — I’ll have to be more careful with where I leave food in the future.” Charmaine shook her head, throat aching.
Now that her adrenaline had abated, she felt as though she might cry. She straightened in her seat and drew a long, deep breath. She hated displaying her emotions publicly and did whatever she could to keep them to herself. Even though Watson was a cat, and nothercat, she’d already grown attached to him. Besides that, he was really the only family she had now — something which she knew was a reflection on how utterly pathetic her life had become, but which she couldn’t do a single thing about.
The fact that these two women had not only shown her sympathy but had fought over who could get her to the vet faster, then waited patiently for her to emerge from the examination room, only made her more emotional.
“Thank you,” she said with a sniffle.
“You’re welcome,” Evie replied.
“I’m glad he’s going to be okay. I know how much our pets can mean to us.” Bea’s eyebrows drew together in concern.
“I know he’s only a neighbourhood cat, not really mine. But we spend a lot of time together…” She wiped her nose with a tissue she pulled from her purse.
“No need to explain. We completely understand.” Bea waved a hand.
“I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you both cared enough to come.” She swallowed around a lump in her throat. “It’s been a long time since I had friends who would do something like that.”
Bea reached for her hand and squeezed it, her eyes glimmering. “I don’t know much about your former life. Isn’t there anyone back home you can call on?”
Charmaine shook her head and wiped her nose again. “No.”
“What about family?” Evie asked.
