Page 14 of Leo and His Love Bunny

“You taking your cat over?” Pete finally asks as we walk in the front door.

“Yeah. I think it’ll help break the ice. If nothing else.” I remember the moment that stretched between us earlier, where we were staring into each other’s eyes and I felt...I felt something I’ve never felt before. But I’m not entirely sure what that was.

It wasn’t unpleasant.

“You can’t present her as a certified therapy cat though,” Pete reminds me, like I had forgotten or something.

“Goalie is almost a certified therapy cat. We just have a few little things that we need to work on.” I know I sound defensive. After all, Goalie and I have worked really hard toward her certification. Actually,Ihave worked really hard, Goalie just does whatever she feels like and eats up all the treats I give her.

The guys like to make fun of me over my cat. I know I don’t really look like a cat guy, but Goalie stole my heart, and I think deep down she really does want to be a therapy cat, she just...maybe sabotages herself out of fear or something.

Regardless, now that the season is over, I’d like to get back into training and see if we can finish our certifications. I’m not going to be playing hockey forever, and I need to have other things I do. My speaking gigs, the book I’m writing, and cat therapy, with the 24-hour gym as a backup. I’ll be living a full life.

Of course, I’d like to have a wife and children and a family life as well, but I’ve always been a little afraid after what happenedwhen I was a child. And after focusing on my hockey career, I know starting a successful business will take extreme dedication and motivation. I don’t have time to do that family thing right now. Someday.

And of course, there is a possibility I won’t be able to have kids and an even bigger possibility that I’ll get cancer and die early. I’d hate to saddle a wife with those kinds of odds.

But if I meet the right woman, I would never say never. She just needs to know the score before we get serious. And I haven’t found anyone I want to have that kind of talk with.

Both Pete and Cal know about my past.

“You guys are late today,” Miss Phyllis says as we walk in the front door. The ladies are cleaning up their work for the day. Sometimes I think they do more sitting around and talking than they do actual furniture upholstery, since it doesn’t always seem like they get a lot done. Of course, they make a pretty big mess, so maybe they do more work than I think. During the season, I don’t pay that much attention. Now that it’s over, I’ll have more time to smell the roses.

“We’re about the same time we usually are when I work first trick,” Pete says. He is the only one of us who actually has a real job, since Cal and I both play hockey. It’s the off-season, so the only thing we really have to do is hit the gym on a regular basis and work with our coaches. We have the same one, so we typically do it together.

First thing in the morning. That’s when the ice is the least crowded.

“Maybe it just seems later,” Miss Phyllis agrees, and then I notice something.

“Where’s Trixie?” I ask. Trixie is their parakeet. I notice Trixie, because Goalie has a thing for him. I know, Trixie is a girl’s name, but apparently they named their parakeet before they realized it was actually a boy. He’s pretty, but nothingspecial in my opinion, although my cat thinks he’s awesome and tries to escape my apartment and run down the stairs every chance she gets. And considering it’s four flights, and my cat is rather lazy, that’s a big deal.

With the money I’m making playing hockey, I could afford something much nicer, and so could Cal, but we enjoy being in the same building as Pete, and as a cop, he can barely afford this. He’s way too proud to accept money from us, so we all just stay here. I’m content.

“We weren’t going to be able to take care of him for a little while,” Miss Leslie says, looking around at the other ladies. I figure something is going on from the look in her eyes. Miss Leslie is the youngest of the ladies, at least she looks that way. She still has her natural hair color, or...maybe she still dyes it. Miss Phyllis’s and Miss Tammy’s are both gray, and Carrie’s is a deep neon green color. Which, if I ever go gray, that’s probably the color I’m going to dye my hair.

“So... You guys are leaving for a bit? Going on a big trip?” I ask.

Cal grins. “I bet you guys are going to Hawaii. Honeymoon or something,” he says, and I laugh in spite of myself. Cal comes up with off-the-wall stuff sometimes.

“How can they go on a honeymoon when they’re not getting married?” Pete asks, and I stifle another snort. I do that a lot when I’m around Pete. I love the guy. I know he’d die for me, but sometimes he is so smart he’s stupid, if you know what I mean.

“I’m just teasing them,” Cal says, punching Pete on the shoulder.

Pete jerks his head, but I can tell from the expression on his face he doesn’t get it.

“We just have some things to do. You know, doctor’s appointments and that type of thing,” Miss Phyllis says, lookinglike she wants to do anything but talk about what we’re talking about.

“Speak for yourself, I’m going golfing,” Miss Tammy says. “If my back holds out, that is.” She stretches with a hand on her back.

“Is it acting up again?” I ask, knowing that ever since her car accident, she’s had some issues with her back.

“No, but it’s liable to any day now,” Miss Tammy says. She’s always so positive. That was sarcasm, just in case you missed it.

There’s something fishy going on with the bird, but I suppose it’s really none of my business. The only reason I’m concerned about it is because my cat is so attached to it. I’ve often thought about getting a parakeet of my own. But it does have a tendency to smell if you don’t clean its cage out regularly, which I can do in the off-season easily, but when I have practice and games all winter, I know it will be hard.

But like I said, I’m not going to be playing hockey forever, so after I retire, it’s something to look forward to. The idea of retirement is a little scary, because the idea of not playing hockey is...hard.

The elevator door opens, and my buddies and I walk on. I’m on the fourth floor, Pete’s on the sixth, and Cal is on the eleventh floor, clear at the top. This is easily the biggest building in Whisker Hollow. Cal has the penthouse suite. Which is funny, because with his personality you wouldn’t have thought that he would have walked in and demanded the best, but apparently that’s what he did. I tease him about it, because he insists that it was the only thing they had available. I roll my eyes at that.

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