Page 16 of A Class of Her Own

I shrugged. “The HOA president. He’s a royal pain.” An extra loud yowl came from my room, and I jumped to my feet. “I think I’d better go check on her.”

“Do you have any little kitty handcuffs to put on her? Maybe a kitty straightjacket?” Ash asked.

“Oh, stop. You’re getting to stay here for free, so you can’t complain,” I retorted.

“Uh . . . I think a price has already been paid. In blood.” She patted Jake’s shoulder.

I stuck my tongue out at her right as a crash sounded. Straightjacket indeed.

The next morning I awoke with Betty laying on my face and the sounds of laughter coming from my kitchen. I’d eventually gotten the poor animal settled down, but she refused to leave my room, and so I’d had to move the litter box into the corner. She really, really did not want anything to do with Jake. I couldn’t say that I understood her aversion. Jake was nice enough, totally non-threatening with his big, warm smile. Everything he’d said so far had been friendly, and he watched Ash like he’d won the lottery.

Willow’s soft laugh floated to my room, and I realized my sisters were already starting to cook without me. I gently removed Betty from my forehead and climbed out from under the covers. After a quick splash of water on my face and some mouthwash, I made my way into the kitchen where my two sisters were still in their pajamas too. Jake was dressed in actual day clothing, but that was okay. If he was still around next year, we’d get him some flannel pajamas to wear. We may always eat at Dad’s house, but we always cooked at mine. And we always did it wearing pj’s.

Dad’s appliances were worn out, with only one burner working, and only one of the heating coils in his oven ever showed up to help. The problem was you never knew which heating coil it was going to be. We wanted delicious food to help balance out the day. Plus, Dad never joined us in cooking and chatting, so what did it matter where we prepared?

“I hear you’re a vegetarian,” I said to Jake as I rounded the corner into the warm room. He nodded. “That sucks on Thanksgiving.”

He smiled, as I hoped he would, and shook his head. “There’s so much food planned that I won’t even miss the turkey.”

“Well, when you only see each other once a year, you tend to throw a big party.”

Willow looked up from where she was taking groceries out of a bag, her long hair tied behind her with a bandanna. “Hey, I see you way more than once a year.”

“And I feel so lucky,” I said in a robotic voice that had her tossing a mixing spoon at me.

Ash laughed, her teeth flashing as she worked to braid her long, light brown hair down the side. “I brought some herbs from my garden to use this year,” she said, nodding toward a basket she’d placed on my counter. “They’re so good.”

My phone dinged several times in a row from the kitchen counter, where I charged it at night. I took seriously the warning to keep screens out of the bedroom. It seemed logical to me. As my sisters circled around Ash’s herb stash, I picked up the device and unlocked the screen.

Hailey: Happy Thanksgiving everyone. Whip, whip, hooray!

Aryn:Let’s give them pumpkin to talk about

Ruby: Pie am so grateful for you ladies

Lizzie: Let’s get basted

Ah, the annual pun parade had arrived. A smiled tugged at my lips as I thought about how to respond. None of them would be satisfied until we’d all contributed. And really, it might be silly, but it was so like my group of friends that an affectionate tug behind my rib cage had me laughing as a pun popped into my head.

Me: Nobody puts gravy in a corner

Aryn: How’s Ash’s boyfriend?

Me: I like him, but Betty attacked him. Mercilessly

Ruby: Does he need stitches? I’m free to consult over the phone. Dad is currently shoving the turkey into hot oil, so I won’t be free after the explosion, but I can call you now

I laughed silently as I replied.

Me: No stitches. Betty won’t leave my room though

Lizzie: I always knew your cat was a man-hater

Me: She is not

Lizzie: She is

Ruby: Definite man-hater

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