“I’m…I’m stuck.” Charlotte says, her face up against the lattice covering, her voice muffled.
“Stuck? As in…?” I get up on my knees and lean in closer to her to see in the semi-darkness. “Oh, it’s your hair.”
“Ugh. My hair is always causing me problems.”
I swallow a laugh. “How did you manage that?” I can see it now. A lock of hair at the hairline above her forehead somehow threaded through a split in the wood. A section of her hair hangs down into the kitten’s territory.
She groans against the wood. “I don’t know, turning my head from side to side to get a better look. Are you going to help or not?”
This time I can’t contain my chuckle. “You and the scrapes you get yourself into.” I have to get very close to her as I pinch the hair right next to her scalp and give it a little tug.
“Ouch,” she says.
“Sorry. Um, yeah, it’s in there pretty good. The problem is there’s some dry rot in the wood, looks like. That’s why there are sharp edges.”
“Dry rot? Of course there’s dry rot. Add that to the list of repairs.”
“Here. Hold on.” I leave her clean, citrus scent and scramble over to my bag. Unzipping it, I locate Kyle’s hammer.
“Are you going to destroy my lattice board?” Her muffled voice teases me.
I use the claw end of the hammer. “How about temporarily and partially dismantle? Does that sound better? I promise I’ll put it back, good as new.”
“Uh, I guess if it’s necessary.”
“It is, for both you and the kitten.”
“What are you saying?” Even with half her head smashed up against the latticework, her eyes dance.
“Just that you’ve both gotten yourselves into a predicament.”
She groans again, but I’m already invested in this.
“I can just yank out a few hairs,” she insists.
“No need,” I say, as the wood gives way with a splintery crack and separates from the rest of the porch.
“I’m free!” She laughs and rubs the top of her head.
“Are you okay?” I ask, taking her in.
“I’m okay. This is the second time today I’ve embarrassed myself around you, though.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean the train wreck that was the interview.”
I drop the hammer into the bag. “Trainwreck? I thought it was good.”
She twists her mouth to one side, not meeting my gaze. “It wasn’t, but thanks.”
“No, we’re going to get the Center’s name out there and help people understand just how important your work is. Hopefully, we’ll get you some donors after it airs.”
“Well, I apologize about trying to convince you to use your foundation’s funds on us. And for accusing you of nefarious intentions.”
“No apology necessary.” I smile. “I enjoyed the convo. I wish the funds weren’t already allotted.” I sober. “And I’m really sorry about you losing your job.”
“We’ll find a way.” She shrugs. “Here, kitty, kitty,” she says softly. “We’ve paved a big highway for you. You can come on out now.”
