“Sardines for Josie!” Tessa cried with glee. “And can you get that house ranch again?”
As if on cue, a meow announced Josie padding into the living room. She took in her surroundings and beelined straight for Tray. He released Tessa so he could bend down and scoop up the cat. “That’s my girl,” he stroked her back lovingly. “We’ll make sure big Cat Dad Number One buys every sardine Mama Lucinda’s has.”
Josie let out the loudest, most excited meow we’d heard since her arrival. Tessa fought her way out of the blanket to turn and kneel against the cushions.
“That’s right, Josie. You can be as loud as you want to be now.” She tickled between the cat’s ears. When she turned back around, her face was beaming. “It was always a fight to keep her quiet, so we wouldn’t get caught at the shelter. I had to sneak her into shower and get a meal during the soup kitchen. I hated having to shush her all the time. I don’t think,” Tessa swiped a tear from her eye, “she’s ever meowed so loud before.”
At that news, our entire pack surrounded Tray and Josie. Even Catalina joined. Like the cat could understand our words, we all encouraged her to keep being loud.
Josie meowed again, seeming to bask in the attention, her tail flicking with satisfaction. Dixon pushed his way towards Tessa, kissing her forehead before jogging away. Tray rocked Josie back and forth. Tessa just couldn’t stop smiling. I had to admit, it was heartwarming to see the cat so comfortable, so at home with us. Damn, it just felt so right having both Tessa and Josie here. Every day I found things that solidified the fact they were always meant to be part of our pack. I leaned down, nuzzling Josie’s nose with my own. When I pulled away, she shook, and a cloud of cat dander and hair puffed into the air. Mac sniffed, stepping back from our gathering. I watched his face screw up as he fought a sneeze, but ultimately, he lost. The sound rocketed through the living room. Josie’s eyes went wide, and then she meowed at full volume, like she was determined to be the noisiest creature in the room.
“Sorry, Josie,” Mac reached forward and tousled her fur. “Forgot the good ole antihistamine today.” Mac had been talking about allergy shots to make things easier, but so far having the air purifiers, robot vacuums, and a daily med was making his life with a feline tolerable.
"Pizza's ordered," Dixon announced, returning to our group as he slid his phone back into his pocket. "Forty-five minutes."
“Or it’s free!” Tray triumphed. Mama Lucinda’s delivery guys were never late. It was a running joke, and we actually tipped them a dollar for every minute it took. They’d never taken the bait, pushing past forty-five. One guy had braved forty minutes for a big tip though.
“So,” Mac cleared his throat. “We should probably start seriously rehearsing. If we can lock in the new song, we can debut it at The Vault.”
“Post-pizza jam session downstairs?” Tray lifted Josie to his shoulder. She wrapped around like a mink stole.
“Oh, yes!” Tessa raised her hand, like she was waiting to be called on in class. “I vote yes!”
“Have you guys tried playing since Tessa arrived?” Catalina quirked an eyebrow, staring at us all.
“Sure, we definitely—” I started to lie.
“Haven’t,” Tray interrupted, a goofy grin making him look manic.
“Well, let’s hope to hell you sound better than the last time,” ourbeloved Beta cringed, “or I might change my mind about canceling the event.”
“Have we ever let you down, CeeCee?” Tray moved towards her, giving Cat wide, innocent eyes.
“Constantly. All the time.” She smirked.
“Well, definitely won’t this time.” He nudged her with his elbow.
“So, you say.” She narrowed her eyes, staring at him. “How are your classes going, by the way?”
“Oh, CeeCee.” Tray supported Josie with one hand and slapped his free hand over his heart. “Why you always got to hit me with the low blows?”
“Mm-hmm,” Cat shook her head, “Enjoy your pizza, everyone. I’ve got a date tonight.”
“A date?” Me, Tray, Mac, and Dixon shouted in unison.
“I can date. I’m not dead yet.” Before we could all hit her with a million questions, Cat waved goodbye and quickly disappeared into the garage.
43
DIXON
THREE WEEKS AND A DAY AFTER TESSA’S ARRIVAL...
Saturday at The Vaultwas like stepping back in time.
We’d had our first real gig here. I remembered feeling like a goddamn rock legend back then, on top of the world. The original bank manager’s office, which acted as the talent lounge, still smelled like cheap cigars and bourbon. The carpet was new, but it’s not so easy to work a lifetime of spills out of sub flooring. I breathed it in like an old damn friend. This was the first venue we’d booked a real gig at. Not street busking. Not playing for free at restaurants and bars. Not feeling ridiculous at some rich kid’s Bar mitzvah—though Levi Goldberg’s had been lit thanks to us. I stood up from the orange leather, low-slung sofa and strode over to the graffiti mural splashed across the opposite wall. A goat with comically large front teeth and dollar signs rammed into the pupils was flanked on either side by large bubble letters.Madness. Money. Music.
The Vault had given us an honest-to-god paycheck and a peek at what the future might hold. We could have all the fame, fortune, and frisky women we could handle. A lifetime ago really.
