Page 85 of Impurrfections

“I can handle noise.”

“The electrician will have to get in here to run a two-twenty line to the new kitchen area for the apartment stove. Also the plumber.”

“I know how to get out of people’s hair when they need me to. I can take Mimsy out and earn some bucks.”

Theo sighed and sat on the bed beside me, his shoes carefully off the edge. “Don’t listen to me. You explained a dozen times, and I get it. I just… I guess it bothers me that you’d rather have this than me.”

“Is that my choice? I thought you were sticking around.”

“No! Of course I am. I don’t know.” He rubbed his face with his hands. “It feels like you’re pushing me away.”

“Not you, just your money. Just for now.” I put an arm around him and pulled him close.

He curled into me like that was what he needed. “People do, though. Get tired of me.”

“Not anyone with sense.” I kissed his hair. “Your dad’s a fucking douche and Rob was a user, even if he set it all out nice and legal up front?—”

“He wasn’t.”

“Yeah, he kind of was. I know you signed on to be used— been there, done that— but Rob or the douchebags you dated are irrelevant to the people who really care about you.”

“Jamie went off to Chicago.” He groaned, then laughed. “Now that was pathetic. Ignore me. I’m feeling sorry for myself. That damned house will feel so empty.”

“You still have Foxy and six puppies. Don’t know about you, but seven dogs doesn’t say empty to me.” We’d decided the noise and hazards of a construction zone were a bad idea for the dogs. Mimsy had lived all kinds of places and had some sense.

“You’re going to come help take care of Foxy, right?”

I kissed his hair again. “Yes, dear, I’ll walk the dog every day.”

“And you’ll help with the socializing stuff Arthur wants us to do with the pups?”

“Cross my heart.” The puppies were barely two weeks old. We had some time.

“I’ll miss you in the night,” Theo muttered.

I’d miss him too. For the last two weeks, for the first time in my life, I’d had someone there when I woke up in the dark. Theo didn’t ask questions, just let me spoon him like a living teddy bear and didn’t complain if I squeezed hard sometimes.Am I crazy to give that up?Maybe this bare room was a bad idea.What if he decides he likes being alone after all?

“But I can live with it,” Theo added. “For now. This isn’t us separating, right? This is a step on the way to us getting together properly, because we jumped the gun and skipped important parts.”

“Yeah,” I said roughly. “That. Exactly right.” I couldn’t always be the one who needed and took from him. I had to figure out how to be the one who gave enough back to be fair. I couldn’t do that in his house, in his bed, eating his food, using his towels and his dishes and his refrigerator. Although the one we’d plugged back in downstairs was also his…

A deeper sigh from Theo dragged me out of my spiraling thoughts. “What?”

“I’m not looking forward to the council meeting next week. I hate making speeches.”

I hugged him tighter. “We have lots of folks on our side. Wynn and Dr. Louisa and Arthur and that woman who adopted two of the kittens Arthur was raising. Probably more. Arthur said his friend James would be there, and Pam from the rescue. Probably enough folks you might not have to talk much.”

“Yeah. Maybe.”

“And me. I’m totally willing to get up and speak to the council. They’ll have to shut me up.”

He chuckled. “That’ll work. I’m fine with the technical specs, and then when we need the emotional appeal, I’ll wave at you and say, ‘Take it away.’ And you can persuade them to open their cold, dark hearts.”

“I could bring Mimsy. She could dance for them.”

“Van Doren doesn’t deserve Mimsy.”

That was probably true. I’d put in some time on Theo’s computer, looking into the guy, reading old council meeting minutes. That’d been boring as fuck, but I’d found Van Doren was usually on the winning side of any vote on permitting. The council had denied a permit for a halfway house in Riverside a couple of years back, and Van Doren had talked aboutthe character of the neighborhoodin that case, too. “Fuck Van Doren.”

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