Valeria shrugged, pretending she hadn’t been keeping track of exactly how many days it had been since Camila’s last visit, wondering what she would come in for next.
By the fifth time—when Camila was convinced Miso had worms because she ate a stray feather in the backyard—Valeria scribbled her number on the back of a clinic card and handed it to her.
“Here,” Valeria says. “Text or call anytime, okay? I’d hate for you to keep paying fifty bucks for me to tell you it’s nothing.”
“You probably think I’ve lost my mind,” Camila says, defeated.
“I don’t,” Valeria says. “I think it’s endearing how much you care about her. I think I could save you the gas and the trip if you justtext me when you’re worried.”
“You’re going to regret giving me this,” Camila says, holding the card between her index and middle fingers.
“It’ll be fine.” Camila is far from the first client to have her personal number. It’s also something Brooke and Valeria constantly fought about. Brooke always accused her of having no boundaries when it comes to work. Which—fair.
Camila tucks the card into her pocket. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she says, scratching Miso under the chin before setting her back into the carrier.
Two nights later, Valeria’s phone buzzes while she’s halfway through dinner.
Unknown 7:56 p.m.:
Hey, sorry. Miso just sneezed three times in a row. Is that normal?
Valeria smiles before she can help it, but it’s hard not to. She finds Camila extremely charming.
Valeria 7:58 p.m.:
Perfectly normal. Probably dust or a little tickle in her nose.
Camila 7:58 p.m.:
Okay. I figured. Just checking. Promise this is the last time I bug you.
Valeria 7:59 p.m.:
I doubt that
There’s a long pause between messages. Long enough that Valeria starts to worry she overstepped. Of course, she overstepped. They barely know each other, and Camila probably can’t tell she’s joking.
Thankfully, her phone buzzes then.
Camila 8:05 p.m.:
You’re probably right
After that, it becomes routine. Every few days, Camila texts. A question about Miso’s “weird” sleep schedule. Asking if cats can get bored with their toys. A photo of Miso sprawled on the couch, “looking depressed.”
Valeria jokes lightly about Camila being overprotective, but not too much.
They talk a few times about things unrelated to Miso, mostly when Camila asks for Valeria’s breakfast and coffee recommendations. That’s when Valeria pulls out her Notes app and shares what she considers her prized possession: a ridiculously long list of every coffee shop she’s visited this year. It takes several thumb scrolls to get through it all, each place carefully rated for coffee quality, atmosphere, service, and pastry selection.
Camila 1:05 p.m.:
What’s this?????????? Stop, I love it. This is impressively nerdy.
Valeria laughs, taking it as a compliment.
It feels good to be making a new friend—it’s been a while. Brooke was always so weird about Valeria meeting new people, always worrying that they—or Valeria—had some hidden agenda. Nothing she said could change Brooke’s mind. In time, she stopped trying and decided that Brooke and the girls were all she needed—and for years, she believed it. However, being able to do this again feels good. There’s something freeing about talking to someone new without overthinking, without guilt creeping in whenever her phone buzzes. Without worrying it will lead to aninterrogation from Brooke, which would inevitably turn into an argument.
As far as Valeria can tell, Camila seems grateful to have a friend in town. Maybe Valeria will offer to play tour guide when she has a weekend off. Spending time sightseeing with a friend sounds perfect.
