"I had cats my whole life. One of them even had a litter, so I learned to tell," she answers, and my friend seems satisfied with the explanation. He copies the stroking gesture Charlie had made and the cat almost melts in his hand.
Hard to resist him, isn't it, sweetheart?
I knew the feeling well. There weren't many creatures that would resist Ethan Clarke.
"Should we adopt her?" our human girl asks, and I nod yes.
"Ethan's already planning which cat tree will fit in our apartment," I tease, and he sticks his tongue out at me, but doesn't deny it.
"What are we going to call her?" he asks, bringing the little one up to eye level again. Indignant, the cat shakes her cute little paws.
"She's got a Katniss face." It's Charlie who says it, and I rest my head on Ethan's other shoulder to analyze better.
"The one from the movie?"
"That too, but I was thinking of the one from the book," she answers me.
"I like Katniss," Ethan remarks, lowering the little creature. This time, she runs across the blanket to my side, so I pick her up and place her on my lap.
"I like it too. A little huntress who came from the forest to the district to the big city to win her rights to be a spoiled, well-treated girl," I say, doing an affected storyteller voice. The two of them laugh.
"It's settled, then. But don't think I'm going to be her single mom, all right? We're going to take turns cleaning the litter box," Charlie decides, using the warning tone she believes looks angry, but only made us laugh more.
She settles on the bed so she can face us with a raised eyebrow.
Now that was a much more serious sign, even though Ethan and I call the expression "cute-angry" behind her back. Since we have some sense, we do the only thing left, saying together:
"Yes, ma'am."
Chapter 37
Ethan
Deep down, I should have suspected life couldn't be all roses forever. My team had won the biggest game of my career so far, my grades in college were good, and I was in love with two people at the same time who, even if they weren't ready to return the romantic feeling now, one day would be. Meanwhile, they returned my desire, and a lot.
I even had a pet, like I'd always wanted!
It was too much happiness for too long.
I'm in the back seat this time, with Katniss sleeping in my lap and acting as a compress on my left leg, which woke up complaining about all the effort I made yesterday, both in the game and in bed. We're on the road, heading back to Frosthaven after spending Sunday wandering around Boston, when my phone rings. Taking the device out of my pocket, I read my dad's name on the screen and answer right away.
"Son... good evening."
"Hi, Dad, good evening. I was actually about to call you to see how you and Miss Marta are doing," I greet, and I can hear his sigh on the other end of the line.
"I'm fine, Tan. But your mom isn't," he confesses, and a chill runs down my spine.
My mom had a serious kidney problem. She'd struggled with it her whole life, but five years ago her kidney function started declining, until it reached its current point: she did dialysis every day, waiting her turn on the transplant list.
Despite everything, my mom never let herself get down. I knew dialysis was cruel and that her body suffered, but she always called me with a smile on her face and said everything was "as bad as ever, but nothing out of control," and she soothed my fears about her health.
I was also aware that they spared me from some things, which had been the reason for fights between us several times. However, after a while, I ended up having to accept their reasoning that I had my own life to take care of and needed to keep my head here, studying and playing, and not on someone sick several hours away, for whom I couldn't actually do anything to help.
Nothing besides donating one of my kidneys to her, which I tried, but my mom wouldn't accept it at all, not from me, not from my brothers, and my dad wasn't a match.
But I had faith that at some point the ideal kidney would show up, and things would go back to normal.
And I prayed for that every night.
