“Like, I’d love to pick your brain sometime,” he said as he dug into his spaghetti. “I know it’s not the same, but I try to tell Miller all about the gory stuff I’m learning, and he isnota receptive target.”
I laughed. “I get it. Those stories aren’t for everyone.”
“Come on,” Miller said. “Don’t start. We’re at dinner. Plus there’s a child here.”
“I like gross things,” Gracie said, and if the state of her face and her napkin was any indication, she was telling the truth. Plus most kids were fascinated by anything involving animal pee or poop.
“You should tell her about momma cats licking their babies’ butts,” Cash said, grinning.
“Maybe after we’ve eaten,” I said, “and I think Cash has some kitten pictures.” I said it like I didn’t know he had about a hundred of them.
“Kittens!” Gracie exclaimed.
She was halfway out of her seat before Wilder caught her. “Finish your dinner first, Gracie.”
She sat back down and started shoveling spaghetti into her face like she hadn’t been fed in a week. She didn’t wait for dinner to be over. After the spaghetti, when the dishes were being cleared away to make room at the table for the promised pies, she left her seat and squeezed into the small gap between Cash’s chair and mine.
“Can I see the kittens, Uncle Cash?”
Cash pushed his chair back a little so she could sit on his lap, and they began to go through the photos on his phone. Cash didn’t say much, but Gracie was happy enough to provide anycommentary she felt necessary. They came across a video of the little orange kitten stalking his brother’s tail, and Gracie laughed and said, “He’s bossy. He’s my favorite.”
“Mine too,” Cash said. He gave her a soft look and restarted the video.
Avery came over once he’d set the pie he was carrying on the table and watched over Cash’s shoulder. “Oh,” he said, and his gaze filled with longing. “Wilder, you need to see this.”
“Are these all your kittens?” Gracie asked me.
“No, I’m just taking care of them. They’ll be ready for new homes soon,” I said without thinking.
Gracie gasped loudly and turned wide eyes on her father, and Wilder groaned.
I sent him an apologetic look. I’d forgotten how quick little kids were to latch on to the one thing you didn’t want them to hear. It was like a superpower or something.
Wilder shook his head and sighed. “I’m already fighting a losing battle here, dude, and you’re not helping.”
“Sorry,” I said and winced.
“Avery, can we get a kitten?” Gracie asked wistfully.
“See? Straight over my head to the boss,” Wilder said.
Avery looked torn. “Maybe we can at least go visit them?”
I knew how this ended and so did Wilder. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to feel too bad about it. It was good for little kids to have pets, and if one of the kittens ended up in a good home because of Gracie’s begging, I could live with it.
“Uncle Mason’s a vet, so he’d help look after it,” Gracie said eagerly.
I wasn’t sure if I’d been promoted to uncle because Gracie was a kid who was used to bringing new people into her family or if it was a blatant attempt on her part to tip the scales in favor of getting a kitten, but either way it gave me a warm feeling inside.
Both Avery and Gracie turned pleading eyes on Wilder, and he folded like wet paper. “I guess we could go visit them if Mason says it’s okay.”
“Yes!” Gracie shouted.
“Now go sit back in your own spot and eat your pie so Uncle Cash can eat his,” Wilder said.
Gracie gave Cash a fierce hug before returning to her seat.
The apple pie was incredible. I wasn’t sure I’d ever had a pie so good before. The last apple pie I’d had was store-bought, probably back in college when I’d been stress-eating my way through exams, and this was leagues above anything from the freezer section in Walmart. I usually had ice cream with my pie, but when the tub was passed around, I refused it because I didn’t want anything to detract from the sweet and subtle flavors of apple, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Unheard of.
