Page 15 of Maverick

Her arms come around me squeezing me tight. Not as tight as she used to, but it still feels the same. Safe, grounded, home.

She pats my back, then nudges me to the table. "Eat up kid."

I nod, shoveling a spoonful of the oats into my mouth. It's not gourmet, but it's fuel, and the cinnamon and raisins she threw in it makes it feel a bit more like a treat.

After we're done, I watch Nan as she moves about our tiny kitchenette - though maybe kitchenette is a little generous for a sink and a microwave. Her hands are thin, skin papery and liver-spotted with age, but they never stop moving, never stop giving.

She deserves so much more than this. More than microwave oatmeal and a granddaughter who's barely keeping a roof over our heads.

"I'm sorry Nan," I say softly. But the woman has bat hearing, and turns the water off, resting her hip against the counter.

"Sorry for what?"

"I'm sorry we're here. I'm sorry I couldn't hold onto the house."

She scowls at me. "Don't be a dumbass Cady. You didn't make me sick. Cancer sucks, and I don't need any of that stuff anyway. I have you. That's all I need."

"But still —"

"But nothing. It's done. All we can do is move forward. And you know…"

"Good things will come. I know Nan."

"But do you believe it?"

Do I believe that everything's going to be okay, and that we'll end up in a far better place soon?

"Yeah, I do. I was just having a moment. I'm done now."

"Good," she mutters, then shakes her wet hands. "Now get off your butt and dry these dishes."

We make quick work of the breakfast dishes before heading out to the kennels. The dogs greet us with a chorus of eager barks and whines, their tails wagging in frenzied excitement.

"Alright, alright, I hear ya," I laugh, grabbing a scoop to start doling out their breakfast. Nan falls in beside me, filling waterbowls. We move through the morning routine with practiced efficiency.

As the dogs settle in to eat, Nan glances at her watch. "I better get a move on if I'm gonna catch that bus."

I pause, a bag of dog food hefted on my shoulder. "You sure you don't want me to drive you? I can spare a few minutes."

Nan waves off my offer. "Nonsense. You've got adoptions today. Those families need you here." She grabs her purse, planting a quick kiss on my cheek. "I'll be fine. You just focus on finding these pups their forever homes."

I watch her go, her steps slow but determined as she heads for the bus stop. My throat tightens. She's always been my rock, my anchor in the storm. I just wish I could give her the life she deserves - a real home, real comfort for whatever years she has left. But for now, the rescue is all I can offer.

But she’s healthy, I remind myself. She's stubborn. And I pray that doesn't change. She's going to take the bus until she physically can't anymore, determined to keep her independence. It wouldn't matter where we lived. And I want her to stay healthy, and part of health is community. That's what those seniors at the community center are for her. They rallied around her during her treatments, making sure she was supported and entertained. They were a godsend.

And in the end, she's still here with me. I couldn't ask for more.

I wave at her, standing outside the rescue until I see she’s safely on the bus, then take a deep breath, unlock the doors, and let the morning bustle of the rescue wash over me. It's going to be a busy day, but the best kind of busy. We've got several adoptive families coming in to pick up their new furry family members. And as always, there will be walk-ins. I have a pretty thorough vetting process, but I've learned to trust my gut about adopters, and most of the time, I get it right.

The first to arrive is the Hernandez family, a young couple with two adorable little girls. They've been waiting a week to bring home their new pup, a playful golden retriever mix they're naming Sunny. As soon as they walk in, the girls squeal with delight and rush over to Sunny's kennel.

"He's perfect!" the older girl exclaims, her face pressed against the bars.

I grin, unlocking the kennel. "He's been waiting for you."

Watching Sunny lick her entire face, his tail wagging a mile a minute, warmth blooms in my chest. This is why I started all this. Pets enrich everyone's lives.

The day continues in a flurry of happy tears and wagging tails. There's the retired couple who adopt a pair of bonded senior pugs, the single dad and his son who fall in love with a goofy boxer mix, and the young woman who finds her perfect match in a shy terrier.

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