“So you’re completely moved in?” Makai asked, smiling at him from the passenger’s seat of his truck, which Emil’s parents had brought to Woodruff a couple of days ago.
“Yeah, there’s bits and bobs at my parents’, but everything essential is at your place. I already had to untangle Spike from my favorite knitted throw once.”
“Oh, you named your two?” Makai looked at him, seeming delighted.
“Yeah, the lighter orange boy is Spike, the gray girl is Buffy.”
“We should so have aBuffymarathon. I mean, I’m not supposed to move about much at first, so it’s either sleeping, reading, or watching something.” Makai frowned at the thought.
Emil knew it was mostly about feeling weak. Makai hated that, just like most people would, but to him, weakness had been dangerous for a decade. Old habits were hard to break, it seemed.
“Oh, there’s one thing,” Emil said as they drove through town.
“What?”
“The townspeople might’ve gone a bit overboard with something….”
“Wait, what’s going on?” Makai looked worried now.
“It’s nothing. Let’s just say I had to say a firm no to the flowers when one of the kittens knocked over the third vase. There’s now a stack of gift cards to various places instead of flowers on the mantle.”
Makai looked dumbfounded. He’d given a statement, an official one, to the police investigating the case, and apparently he hadn’t quite understood what the cop had told him. Being a hero wasn’t something Makai thought of. It was just something hewas.
“Look, they really like you. You’re a hero in town. You saved Lizzie from something nobody else could do anything about for years, Makai. Just take it and smile.” Emil squeezed Makai’s thigh and hoped it would calm him down.
“Just… no visitors, right?” Makai asked in a small voice, and Emil figured out that just the one-hour drive home had already tired him out. “I’m nobody’s hero,” he then grumbled. “I don’t… I hope anyone would help out someone weaker like that.”
“I wish they did too. In any case, there’s a bed and rowdy kittens waiting for you. And a shit-ton of different casserole dishes.”
Makai groaned and then coughed, just as they got to the cottage. Emil parked the vehicle, and Makai got himself out pretty well but looked disgusted as he walked the few steps to the edge of the parking space and spat whatever he’d coughed up into the brushes.
“Eww,” he said and very carefully rolled his shoulders. “I could do without that. Or the aches and the fucking arm.”
“Hey, don’t diss the arm. It might’ve just saved you,” Emil snapped as he grabbed the bag and started for the door.
“Sorry.” They’d had the discussion about the arm a couple of times before. The medical personnel, doctors and nurses, and the surgeons who had treated Makai had all agreed that if Makai’s arm hadn’t been in the exact position it was when Frank shot him, the bullet would’ve most likely gone straight through his heart. Having a useless arm for a while and maybe some issues with it in the long run was a small price for being alive.
“Now get inside so I can unleash the terrors on you,” Emil commanded but couldn’t help the smile that stole its way onto his face when he saw the enthusiasm in Makai’s expression. Someone had missed his kitties a lot. “Wait until you see how much they’ve grown.”
Earlier that morning, Lotte had stopped by with Joy to feed the kittens and then put them into the bedroom with a litterbox. They had become fast and agile and were often trying to run out of the door without concern of what lay out there.
Emil and Makai made it inside safely, and immediately there was a scratching sound and a familiar meow from the bedroom.
“Do you want to sit on the couch or go to bed?” Emil asked Makai who was starting to look a bit gray.
“Bed, please. I can watch something on the laptop if I want to.” They went to the bedroom door, and as soon as Emil opened it, what seemed like an avalanche of cats rolled out.
“Were you idiots leaning on the door?” Emil asked fondly, picking up the kittens so that Makai could make it to the bed without them underfoot. “Stop squirming, hellions. You need to let Daddy get to the bed first.”
Mouse jumped on the bed and stared at Makai as if he’d been gone for months. She meowed at him tentatively, and as soon as he made himself comfortable, she rounded him and went to sit by his head as if taking stock of where she could step and where not.
“Oh, Mousey,” Makai sighed and petted her gently. “Missed you too.”
She headbutted his face and purred loudly, and then Emil had to let the kittens go because they were starting to get too clawy.
“Ouch, for fuck’s sake, Spike.” He gently unhooked the tiny claws from his shirt and placed Spike on the bed where his siblings were already making their way to Makai.
“I can’t believe how quickly they grow. They’re so much steadier on their feet now,” Makai murmured and lifted the closest kitten—the darker orange boy—onto his chest.
