Oh.
He gets it before I do.
I’m going to be here for more than a heartbeat. I’m going to be here long enough to drive through snow and so much more. With him.
After I wander inside, excited, and confused, and dejected, and with too many feelings, I sulk and grab a stack of kids’ books from Dave’s shelf. I plod into the bathroom and toss them to the floor as I wash my face.
When I lean down and stretch my hand just outside of my cat’s cozy house, I’m met with an aggressive swipe and a feral, horrifying hiss.
“Okay, my mistake,” I say as I pull back just in time. “I moved too fast. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”
Surely, Whiska didn’t mean to hurt my feelings, but he did. Maybe I’m just oversensitive these days. After all, he’s just a scared baby who doesn’t trust anyone.
I settle into the bathroom, the tiles hard against my back, and I prop a book up on my lap and read to this Top Cat about geese named Gossie and Gertie. It’s positively astounding how he listens and focuses on the pictures and watches as I turn pages. And after I’m sure he likes this, I readChicka Chicka Boom BoomandTrashy Town. While he doesn’t make any kind of eye contact with me, I know some sort of wall has been broken. Or at least cracked.
Because just as I start to read about Mr. Gilly dumping trash, my Top Cat shuts his eyes and falls into a clear slumber.
This cat feels secure, at least to some degree. At last.
I stay for just a few minutes until I know he’s in a deep sleep.
After I gently close the book and tiptoe away, I whisper, “I’m sorry that your mom was so mean. And that you’re so sad. I get it, Whiska. I’m sad too.”
It’s now noted that Whiska loves children’s books, and I’m pretty sure I’m still going to get cut up a few times, no matter what I do. But whatever it takes, I’m going to win over this cat.
Back in my bed, I cuddle up with my phone and browse cars. Yes, I have my nice place in Boston. Yes, I like my expensive clothes, but I like simple, easy-to-wear outfits that don’t take a lot of thought. It’s why me and my JAKI brand stuff are going to be lifelong friends.
Now? It’s so simple to do almost everything online. Within minutes after chatting with some bot, I’ve traded in my Audi fora winter-approved Subaru that will be delivered tomorrow. My cariseight years old and pushing two hundred thousand miles, and I guess I deserve an upgrade.
I like my creature comforts—good food, a cozy home, and comfortable clothes. Simple, clean, sleek.
Given my now-insane schedule, I’m not cheering that I have to get up at ten in the morning to sign papers and such, but I click the Agree button. Online car shops don’t account for broken bones, feral cats, or dead friends, and how much those things mess with sleep. Mess with everything.
Nobody really does.
Chapter 14
My alarm makes me angry, but I roll out of bed to feed Whiska, who doesn’t even come out of his bed. I got out of mine; he could have done the same.
But whatever. Still, I leave him food.
The coffee I brew is shitty, but after I douse it with creamer, maybe it’s mildly okay. I sit and wait, all groggy and feeling disagreeable. When I hear noise coming down the gravel road, I can’t help but smile.
The slick Subaru Solterra arrives. Black on black, she’s super sexy. I’m not usually much of a car girl, but even I’m drooling when I see this baby.
Dave made fun of my Acura, but itwasnearly the ancient category, so I don’t feel terrible about replacing it with something like this cool beast that can surely plow through snow. And while I’m not going to be here forever, it’s still a good vehicle for a New Englander.
After I sign a thousand papers and my old car is towed off, I hop in. It takes some time to figure out this new ride. I actually read through much of the manual and set up all the Bluetooth stuff. Then my new car and I drive into town. For the first time, I’m feeling something similar to okay.
While this is definitely a fishing village, it’s not quite as quiet as I thought. There are a number of restaurants and shops, and I see how it could actually be a lovely vacation spot. After Icarefully park and walk the cozy streets for a bit, I understand why it’d be easy to spend hours exploring.
When I turn a corner to face the water, I also see that David’s food truck is going to be worth waiting for, given the line. Always a good sign. As I get in line, I notice a rather adorable Free Book stand set up, a painted shelf stocked with children’s books.
After waiting for twenty minutes behind hungry fishing guys, I place my order. It’s a hot minute before he realizes it’s me, but Dave just nods.
“Up in a few.”
He’s maybe unnerved to see me? I’m not sure. He certainly didn’t seem excited, but he’s probably just in the throes of cooking like mad.
