Her son? I hadn’t realized she had a k id. I feel a little sheepish at the realization that I’d assumed her life revolved around my cat. And I hadn’t pictured her having a young child. I really thought she was older.
Ah, I see. No worries. Can’t leave your little one alone,I send back.
Oh, he’s not little anymore. But he has special needs, and I have to take care of him.
That makes more sense to me – he’s not an infant…perhaps a teen, or a young man who can’t function without her? Once again, I’m surprised. And a little pleased that she’s shown a deeper side of herself. Not only has she lost her husband, but she continues to tend to her child, alone. She’s a good mother. No wonder she’s so dedicated to my ancient cat. Anyone else would have told me to put him down by now – God knows Cory has a dozen times.Fucker.Arielle would never do that. She’s special.
That’s too bad…it must be a challenge,I say.
Oh, it’s never a challenge. He’s my boy. I love every minute.
Jesus.I have to shake myself because I’m starting to think of her as a saint. In my mind, she’s a floating angel with wings and a halo.Dammit, Sam, get a grip! You’re too old to want a mom.
I don’t want a mom. I want a woman.
Like Arielle.
Chapter 6
Cat Business
Arielle Nygard
When I visit Munchkin a few days later, I notice that he’s limping, favoring his right front paw. It’s the first time he’s presented with any sort of an injury. I think about the game of bubbles we played and wonder if all the running around had anything to do with it. We sit on the couch in the sunroom and Munchkin immediately starts licking his leg, which worries me further. So, I very gently, try to intervene.
“Let me have a look,” I say as I reach for his leg. There’s a small bulge on the inside and when I run my thumb lightly over it, Munchkin flinches and pulls away. “It’s okay, bud. I just want to see what’s happening. I’ll be careful.” I take his paw again and inspect the bulge. It’s an angry red and as I move the fur away from the swelling, the size is alarming. “This isn’t good. And I have no idea how to make it better. We’re going to have to see the vet.” I rub Munchkin’s head. “Sorry, bud.” I pull out my phone and the letter Sam left for me on my first visit, which has the number of Munchkin’s vet. I dial the number and wait impatiently for the call to connect.
“Riverside Veterinary Clinic. This is Jackie, how can I help you?” Jackie’s voice has a calm, reassuring tone and I stifle a sigh of relief.
“Hi, this is Arielle Nygard, I’m taking care of Samuel Foster’s cat, Munchkin.”
“Oh yes, Sam said you might call. How is Munchkin?”
“Well, he’s developed a limp and I found a swelling on his right front leg.” My voice takes on a note of panic. “I don’t know what to do. I think he needs to see a vet.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing major, but it’s probably best for the doc to take a look,” Jackie says. “How soon can you bring him in?”
“I can be there in about twenty minutes.”
“That’s perfect. We’ll be waiting for you.”
“Thank you.” I hang up the phone and wonder if I should text Sam. I don’t want to worry him unnecessarily. But ifit was about Austin, I’d want to know. I open the app and type up a quick message.
Hi Sam, I don’t want you to worry, but I’m taking Munchkin to the vet. He’s started limping and has a swelling on his right front leg. The lady on the phone doesn’t think it’s serious but says the vet should check him out. I’ll let you know as soon as I’ve seen him.
I go in search of a carrier and find one tucked away in a corner of the kitchen. Munchkin isn’t happy to see it and puts up a bit of a fight when I try to put him inside. Eventually, I close the little wire door. He gives me a plaintive meow. “I know, it’s horrible, but the vet will make you feel better soon.” I gather my purse and keys and take Munchkin out to the car. I program the vet’s address into Google Maps and I’m just about to pull off when my phone pings with a reply from Sam.
Hi Arielle, thanks for letting me know. I’m sure he’s fine, but I appreciate you taking him to get checked out. Let me know what Dr. Nick says.
I type a quick response and get the car moving. It’s the middle of the afternoon and traffic is light, and I make it to the vet practice in a little over ten minutes.
Munchkin complains loudly and repeatedly the whole way. I figure that he can’t be in much danger if he’s protesting so much. I park in a small, paved lot next to a single-story building with a bright green roof. I ring the bell and wait for the buzz and click that indicates the sturdy metal gate is unlatched. I push it open, step inside and the receptionist greets me with a broad smile.
“Hi,” I say as I set the carrier on the reception counter. “I called in about Munchkin.”
“Yes, of course. I’m Jackie.” Jackie is young, probably early twenties, with light brown hair twirled into a bun and warm hazel eyes. She leans towards the carrier. “Hey Mr. Munch, what have you done to yourself?” she asks the cat. He gives her a yowl of indignation. “Don’t worry. Doc will fix you right up.” She stands up straight and addresses me. “Take a seat. Doc will be with you shortly.”
“Thanks, Jackie.” I take Munchkin, who is still voicing his woes although not quite as loudly anymore, to a bank of seats and put him down next to me. The waiting area is empty but there is one other car in the parking lot, so I assume ‘Doc’ is with a patient. Being here reminds me of all the times I spent waiting at doctors’ offices with Austin when he was a baby.
