Page 14 of Whiskey Wednesdays

“Honey, don’t worry. It happened a long time ago. When she was a baby she was really sick. My dad found her and made her better, but her eye was already too damaged. It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

She looked dubious. “Oh. Can she see?”

“Yes. Her other eye is fine and sometimes she gets the zoomies, and she’ll race around the room and jump off the furniture. She’s doing great now.”

“Okay. That’s good.” Elodie settled down.

She kept petting and feeding Shawnda, and my heart melted a little.

“Belly, are you my friend now?” she asked.

It was an abrupt change of topic, but I rolled with it. “Of course.”

“Good, ‘cause you know what? Your dad is my bestest friend. And now I have three friends.” She smiled at Harley and continued petting the cat.

“Aw hell,” I muttered.

Harley glanced over at me. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m going to have to help Connor, aren’t I? And actually be nice to him.”

Harley chuckled. “It’s going to be painful after last week, isn’t it?”

I sighed. “It’s not just going to be painful. It’s going to be excruciating.”

“Well, look who’s here?” Dad said as he walked in.

Elodie waved. “I came to see your kitty.”

Dad smiled. “Hi, sweetie. I see you’ve met Shawnda.”

“Belly told me her eye doesn’t hurt anymore.”

Dad grinned at my new nickname, then promptly invited Harley and Elodie to eat Christmas brunch with us.

“We’d love to,” Harley said. “But Connor might worry when he gets back and we’re not at the main house.”

Dad nodded. “We can take it over there then. I don’t think he’ll mind.”

“What about the kitty? She’ll be lonely,” Elodie said sadly. “Can we bring her?”

Dad squatted down next to her. “Shawnda likes being alone sometimes so she can take her cat naps in peace.”

“Okay.” Elodie looked down at her shoes.

“You can visit her sometimes if your dad says it’s okay though.”

She smiled. “Okay.”

When the breakfast casserole was done, I wrapped it up and grabbed a fruit and cheese tray. Dad also brought the orange rolls he’d baked yesterday, and we took it all over to the main house. We ate while the casserole was still warm, and sat around Connor’s large modern dining table talking and laughing.

I turned to Elodie. “Who’s your new teacher?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“What’s your new school called?” Harley asked.

Elodie shrugged again, but I could see she was getting a little worried.

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