“Vicious little fiend, isn’t it?” Darius says.
“It’s just scared,” Sadie says supportively, and another smile creeps across my face.
“Maybe we should buy the food and some treats before we try to coax it into the carrier,” I say.
Darius guffaws and says, “Well, she ain’t going anywhere, brother. She’s been glued to that corner ever since she appeared five minutes ago.”
We peer around the chair at her. “She’s so dusty, James,” Sadie says. “She must have been in some ducting somewhere.”
“Come on, let’s go get the cat food.”
Once we’re heading off down the street, Sadie says, “So, names? Do we think it’s a boy or a girl?”
I like this more talkative version of Sadie. I snort. “I am not examining a cat’s private parts and comparing them to some pictures on the internet.”
She laughs. “That does sound terrible. We could give him or her a name that could be male or female.”
“Excellent idea. Gender neutral. Dare I suggest Ripley?” I look at her sideways.
“Alien. That feels strangely appropriate, if a little ... off-putting, maybe? I have a feeling we could end up arguing over sci-fi and fantasy names all night. And debating which ones are truly gender neutral.”
“Oh! I can think of so many great sci-fi names. Hans Solo, Darth Vader …”
“Frodo.”
“Okay, yeah. We are going to argue about that. Food isn’t gendered, is it? How about Sausage?”
She snorts. “We cannot call a cat Des gave us Sausage. We would never hear the end of it.”
A husky laugh bursts out of me. “Too true.”
We’ve arrived at the bodega, so I open the door, grab a basket, and start down an aisle. It doesn’t take us long to find what we need, and Sadie grabs a bag of litter.
Once we’re outside again, she says, “I can’t imagine that cat being called something like Snuggles.”
“Yeah. I can’t even envisage calling a pet something like that. I wouldn’t be able to look it in the eye.”
She grins. “We should call it Des.”
“In revenge for him signing me up to this, you mean?”
“More like it would be funny, like he still was living in the apartment. His ghost lives on through the cat he gifted you.”
I really like how she thinks. “Hey, he gave the cat to both of us.”
“I thought you said he signed you up?”
I smirk at her. “My name was on the delivery note, but he actually said both you and me when I talked to him. I’m leaning toward Karen. I think this cat might have those vibes. She’s already being difficult,” I add.
“The cat is difficult, so it’sfemale?” She stares at me, her luminous eyes bright and a bit ... annoyed? Interesting.
I hold my palms in surrender. “Maybe I’m being more influenced by my ex-girlfriend than I realized.” As my gaze roams over her hair, itoccurs to me that the phraseex-girlfriendslipped out so easily. I didn’t even flinch.
“What happens if it’s male?”
“Mr. Karen?” I suggest.
She claps her hands. “Ilovethe idea of having a cat named Mr. Karen.”
