“If you’re a fucking reporter, you should just leave now.” I bare my teeth at the lanky man.
He takes a huge step back, his eyes go wide, and his face pales. “I’m not a reporter.” He clears his throat and attempts a smile.
I scowl and look him over. “So why are you ringing my doorbell at seven-thirty in the morning?”
“I have a special delivery for a Mr. Omar Solomon.” He’s wearing a bright blue uniform with…I lean in to read the small letters on the front breast pocket and groan.
“Oh shit. That’s today?” I’ve been so annoyed I totally forgot Jules’ early Christmas present was arriving this morning.
“Yes. If you could just sign here?”
“Fine. Sorry I growled at you.” I sign the clipboard he thrusts at me. “Could we?—”
He holds up a finger and dashes down the walk. “One moment, please,” he calls before he disappears around the small wall that fronts my garden.
I sigh impatiently and lean against the door frame to wait. He reappears, carrying a large, gray carrying crate. “Thisis the twelve-week-old kitten you adopted six weeks ago.” He holds it out to me. I just stare at it. I expected Jules to be back to take care of her. I don’t know what to do with a cat. What if I hurt it?
“Sir, are you Mr. Solomon?” He leans back to look at the house number. “Or do I have the wrong address?”
“No, sir, you’re in the right place. Can you bring her back tomorrow?”
His eyes widen slightly, and his smile falters for just a second. He pushes tiny round glasses up his nose. “Unfortunately, her spot at the kennel has already been assigned to a new animal.”
“So is that a no?”
His nose twitches like he’s going to sneeze, and sweat breaks out on his brow. “Wedohave a return policy. If you change your mind, you can call this number and arrange to have her re-homed.” He pulls a business card out of his pocket and hands it to me.
I’m being ridiculous and giving this man a panic attack. “No, no. I won’t change my mind. It’s fine. I’ll take her now.”
He sags and wipes his forehead. “Excellent. She’s just eaten, so you’ve got a few hours before you need to feed her again.”
He lifts the crate and hands me a duffle bag that was slung over his shoulder. “There’s enough food for today in the bag, and instruction for feeding and litter box management inside. There’s also a litter box, litter, a bowl for water, and food. I hope it’s love at first sight.” And with a tip of his bright blue cap, he hurries down the walk again.
“I doubt it,” I grumble.
There’s a small mewl from the crate at my feet, and I stoop down to pick it up.
I shut the door with my foot and carry it into the kitchen, set it down on the counter, and open the little gate in the front.
As soon as I see the tiny midnight black kitten staring up at me, I know I’m a cat person. She’s beautiful. I reach in and pull the tiny animal out of the carrier, struck by how light and small it is. There’s a note inside, and I hold the kitten to my chest with one hand and pick up the bag with my other.
It purrs, and tiny claws prick my chest when I start up the stairs to the living room. As I sit on my couch, I place the warm ball of fur on my shoulder and recreate the painting on her iPad. I snap a picture and send it to Jules with no message.
Her message comes right away.“OMG, I’ll call you in five.”
My phone rings less than two minutes later, and when I see her name on my screen, a knot I hadn’t even known was there eases. “Hey, Beat.”
“Hey, Break,” she responds in her normal, sweet way. “Whose cat did you steal to take that picture?”
“She’s yours. I adopted her before your trip was on the calendar, and they brought her to me today.”
“What! Are you serious?”
I pull the phone away from my ear at her scream and laugh when it starts asking me to accept her video call. I accept the request for video and then put the phone down on the couch.
“Why am I looking at the ceiling?” she cries.
“Hold on a second.” I position the cat so the heart on her belly is visible and turn the camera around so she’s in full view. “Voilà!”