Page 40 of Love at First Ink

“Off guard?” her mother scoffed. “What was it you were doing?”

Marisol gritted her teeth, taking deep breaths. “Just got out of the shower. Is there something you need?” she asked with forced patience Alice would be proud of.

“No need for the attitude, dear. I’m simply calling to invite you over on Friday for family dinner.”

Ignoring the comment about her attitude, Marisol quickly scrambled for an excuse to get out of it. This weekend she wanted to reserve for Cisco, and she’d much rather spend time with him than suffer through an awkward family dinner. The thought of it made her stomach twist—enduring endless jabs about her appearance and the inevitable mention of Archie. Her mother would press for details, prying relentlessly until Marisol was forced to come up with a reason to escape.

It was always easier to refuse over the phone, where distance gave her a layer of protection. But standing just feet away, face to face, made it infinitely harder to hold her ground.

“This weekend? I…I wish you would have told me earlier. I’m busy.”

“Surely that can change?” her mother challenged. “After all, Lola and Javi will be here. Along with my grandchildren. It wouldn’t seem right not to have my eldest daughter here too. I would love to invite Archie, but seeing as you two are…not on the best terms, I’ll be happy with just you coming.”

Pretending her mother didn’t mention Archie, she focused on the fact that Lola was coming. It was a rare day in hell when Lola agreed to be in the same room as their mother—or, as she called it, “exposure therapy.” She felt compelled not to leave hersister there alone to fend for herself. Sure, she had her husband and their father…but Marisol was her big sister. A shitty sister, but still. She felt the least she could do was suffer alongside Lola.

It didn’t make sense but somehow eased her regret.

“Maybe I can move things around?—”

“That’s so good to hear, dear. I knew you’d make the right choice. I’ll see you on Friday.” Without waiting for a response, her mother hung up, leaving Marisol flustered.

“Wonderful,” she muttered, placing her phone back on the counter.

The old Marisol would have let that one interaction ruin the rest of her day. She wouldn’t have even bothered getting dressed and would have gone straight back to bed.

Before her mother called, though, she had planned on giving Stella from the shelter a call. After her last session with Alice, she felt confident in her decision to volunteer. She still wouldn’t consider herself a pet person—besides Snowball—but it would be a nice way to meet people.

She finished up in the bathroom, pulling on silk red shorts and a black Sinner’s Web shirt. She put her hair in a loose braid before leaving her bathroom and heading to her living room. Snowball meowed at her when she sat down on the couch. She waited on Marisol to wrap herself up with a fuzzy blanket before moving to sit on her lap.

“Where did I put her number?” Marisol wondered out loud, doing a quick search of her coffee table before finding the crumpled-up paper with Family Pet Shelter’s number on it. A picture of a cartoonish man and woman holding a dog and cat smiled up at her.

“They seem happy,” she said to Snowball.

Snowball just blinked at her and then put her head down, promptly falling asleep.

“Right, I’m on my own,” she muttered and ran her finger over the numbers. Before she could talk herself out of it, she pressed call and put the phone to her ear.

Each ring made her heart pound faster. Not only did she hate talking on the phone, but she hated talking on the phone to strangers. She always felt awkward and felt the need to fill in any silence with ramblings. Suddenly, the phone stopped ringing, and loud barks assaulted her ear, followed by a cheery voice. “Thanks for calling Family Pet Shelter; this is Stella. How can I help you?”

“Hi, Stella. This is Marisol Roberts. We actually met the other day. I don’t know if you remember me?—”

“Marisol! Yes, you adopted Snowball. How’s she adjusting?” Stella asked, genuinely curious.

The cat in question happily lounged across Marisol’s lap like she owned the damn house. Affection for the white furball swelled in her chest as she petted the top of her head. Snowball purred immediately.

“I would say she’s adjusting very well. Like she’s always been here.”

Stella laughed good-naturedly on the other end. “Yup, that about sums up cats. Once they find their person, they are locked in for life.”

“Thank you again for helping me with the adoption,” Marisol said. “I was actually calling about the volunteering you mentioned. I’m wondering if you still need volunteers?”

“Desperately!” Stella said. There was shuffling on her side, and then a door closed, blocking out most of the barking. “We have many areas we still need help in. What skills do you have?”

“Oh, uhm, I’m organized,” she said lamely, not realizingshe would be interviewed on the spot. “Planning and delegating. I also am good at both written and verbal communication. I have a lot of contacts in a lot of different fields.”

“Contacts?” Stella asked, intrigued. “Like contacts who may or may not be interested in donating to a good cause?”

If there was one thing her parents’ “friends” were good for, it was giving away money that would make them look like good people.

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