I push a hand through my hair, glancing between her and Briar. “A stray cat has been living out here, and Heath decided to make it a safe place to hang out without setting off my allergies.”
He didn’t want to risk triggering them, so he’s been mindful of the design. He even added a cutout for the entrance away from the door to the mudroom, and the shelter will be enclosed on three sides with small-gauge wire mesh—tight enough to trap the dander but open enough that we can see inside.
A big grin lights up Birdie’s face. “I figured I’d have to guilt-trip you into adopting a rescue someday. So proud you did it all on your own.”
My eyes widen. “Wait. I never said anything about adoption.”
Heath may have taken the cat to the vet last month for a checkup and to get him neutered, but he still roams the streets during the day. We’re just offering him a safe place to eat and sleep. I absolutely have not gotten attached to the little gremlin. The fact that I’ve bought him toys and his favorite treats means nothing.
Briar nudges my shoulder. “You’ve got no choice now that Birdie’s involved. Best to just give in, nice and easy.”
“What she said,” Birdie chirps. “And I expect the cutie to be named the next time I stop by. It’s wrong for him to be wandering around without one.”
I scoff. “You haven’t even seen him. What if he’s the ugliest cat you’ve ever laid eyes on?”
“Nonsense,” Birdie replies, brushing me off. “There’s no such thing as an ugly cat. I’m sure he’s downright adorable.”
She’s right, he is, especially when he chases his own tail in enthusiastic three-legged circles. Still doesn’t mean I’ve gone soft for him or anything.
Birdie takes a photo of the half-built setup. “Wren is going to love this.”
“Oh, for sure,” Briar agrees.
I already know she’s never going to let me live it down. She’s officially the final holdout who hasn’t gotten roped into saving an animal by Birdie.
My chest tightens as I think about how little we’ve heard from her lately. She still replies to the group chat and checks in with me every week about the baby, but our conversations have grown shorter and more distant.
If I weren’t on the verge of waddling everywhere, I’d rally everyone for a trip to Florida to see Wren and Lottie in person. For now, all I can do is keep reaching out and hope she’s just busy with work and Lottie’s after-school activities. If anything else were going on, I’m sure she’d tell us.
After the girls leave, I decide to organize my workspace in the shop. There are piles of papers, recipes, and to-do lists on stickynotes everywhere. Pregnancy brain is no joke, and with my already chaotic life, I could use all the reminders I can get.
Then there’s the stack of bills I’ve been avoiding. I’m still playing catch-up on overdue payments, and although it’s not as overwhelming as it used to be, I live in fear of another final notice or having an extension request turned down.
I decide now is as good a time as any to rip the Band-Aid off. I snatch the top envelope and tear it open. My hands shake as I pull out the statement, bracing for the bright red “OVERDUE” stamp. Instead, I’m confused when I see “Balance Paid in Full” printed in clean black letters.
That can’t be right.
I scan the rest of the notice to confirm the balance is zero. In a daze, I flip through the stack until I find the credit card statement I use for all my business purchases. Sure enough, that balance has also been paid.
Still not convinced this is real, I pull out my phone and log into the bank app, certain there must be a mistake. But the numbers don’t lie. The account is completely paid off. No pending charges. No errors.
Heath.
It had to be him. I have no idea how he figured it out, but with him living here, it would’ve been easy enough for him to find one of the bills stashed in a drawer or left behind the shop register. I usually open them here and carry them upstairs at the end of the day.
Charlie: Where are you?
Heath: Driving home. You okay?
Charlie: We need to talk.
Heath: Sounds ominous.
Charlie: You paid my overdue bills without asking.
Heath: We’ll talk when I get back. Be there in ten.
There’s a small part of me that wants to be upset that he intervened without telling me, but the relief is also overwhelming.
