I rub Bunny between her ears gently for a moment before picking her up and nestling her to my chest. The feline curls into my neck, purring prettily while nuzzling my chin. She gives me a tiny lick, making me giggle.
“How much is she?” I ask, looking at the receptionist.
Her face brightens. “There’s a twenty-five-dollar application fee, and an adoption fee of one hundred and fifty dollars.”
I wince thinking about the five-hundred-dollar pet fee at my new apartment. My heart sinks.What am I doing here? I can’t afford this.I sigh.Wishful thinking.But the little voice in the back of my head, the one I've been ignoring for years, comes up strong to the surface.
Have a little faith.
I turn to the receptionist and give her an imploring look. “I really like her, but I have to travel out of town for a few days for a conference. Can I fill out the application, pay the deposit, and pick her up when I get back into town? Do you take a credit card?”
She brightens.“Of course, you can!And yes, we do! Let’s go get the forms!” She helps me put Bunny back, considering she'd extracted her claws and tangled them into my hair to try to hold on.
“Don’t worry, Bunny. I’ll be back for you and get you out of your corner.I promise.”
I blow Bunny a kiss and follow the receptionist out the door.
Chapter thirty
Box Breath and Brain Cells
Thenextevening,I'melbow deep in a heated argument with Tyler, who insisted on coming over for dinner even though it was his mother's night. No doubt we'll be paid a visit fromher soon. The knowledge that she's going to pop up any moment distracts me from what he's saying; I stare unblinkingly as he talks, and force myself to listen to every word before squeezing my eyes shut in frustration.
Leaning against the counter in my kitchen, I listen to him ramble on about why he can’t go back to Spain.
"What can I say to make you let me come back home, dad?" he queries sharply, his blue eyes, so much like mine, flashing with anger. "I don't want to go back!"
Frustrated beyond belief, my lips press together, and I fold my arms even tighter, working to keep my voice level as I address him. “Tyler, you have obligations. You made acommitment.We have sunk so much money into your education and all you’ve managed to do is fuck your way through your weight’s worth in women," I admonish. "Ifonlythey could give out degrees based on being a man-whore, you’d be all set!”
Disappointment heavily laces my tone, causing Tyler to arch a brow.
“You’re one to talk! You’ve had liketwentywomen since mom!” he throws back bitterly, not even knowing the facts to speak on my sex life. He leans his forearms against the island, uncaring about how disrespectful he sounds. In my house. “And you’re screwing one now, too. Don't deny it because I found the longest fucking hair of my life in the bathroom drain a little bit ago.”
I push off hard from the counter, walking the few steps to the opposite side of the island across from him. I can tell without even looking that my features are hard set. Tyler's eyes turn wary, but I couldn't care less. If you've got the balls to step to me in my house, then you better be prepared for me to step forward because I won't tolerate it.
Not anymore.
“I’m a grown man, Tyler! Who I’m dealing with has got absolutely nothing to do with you, nor is it any of your damnbusiness. You better watch yourself and the way you speak to me, boy.Youdon’t pay my bills;I do." I point a finger. "The second you start is the second you can have an opinion,” I snarl at him, angry but not surprised at Tyler’s disrespect.
He's unfortunately just like his mom. Not knowing when to keep his mouth shut.
Tyler holds his hands up, backing off. “Look, okay, I’msorry. All I’m saying is that I need a break.”
I feel my face flush as all the blood rushes to my head. I clench my hands, truly irritated and taken aback at his words.
“A break, Tyler? You’ve barely even started!" My eyes narrow, and I gesture a hand. "You just began your studies in June! It’s the end ofJuly! What the hell are you talking about right now? Have you lost your ever-loving mind, Tyler? I have your tuition paid up until May of next year!”
Tyler narrows his eyes back and leans forward himself, betraying irritation, and dare I say it, jealousy? “Well, we can’t all be super fucking famous psychiatristswho box with billionaires,dad. I’m not cut out for college.”
“Then whatareyou cut out for,boy?” I don't even try to stem it anymore. My voice echos around the kitchen, rough and impatient as I tilt my head, wondering for the first time if this is the day I get into a physical altercation with my own son. My boy. “I had you in foreign language classes, instrumental lessons, sports, theater, martial arts.Anythingthat I could get you in to pique your interest, and you didn’t want anything to dowith any of it!” I take a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself. “Your mother coddled you. Every time you wanted to drop out of an activity, she let you.Iwanted you to stick something out, to show you how consistency pays off. Teach you discipline. WhatI should have done was send your ungrateful tail to military school.”
Pausing, because I feel my speech getting more rapid and cold, I take another deep breath and shake my head.
“All the opportunities in the world that you had at your disposal, and you squandered every one of them because you’re lazy, Tyler.” I gesture at him, trying to get him to see, to self-reflect.
“I’mlazy?” Tyler recoils his head back in obvious disgust as he narrows his eyes at me, his lips turning down into a frown.
The incredulouslycluelesslook of denial makes me sick. As if we hadn’t had this conversation dozens of times before.
