Page 43 of Burn Bag

“I’m sure you are,” she said in a coddling tone. “I would never assume any differently.”

“Just wait until I take you to the training center. Then I’ll show you just how masculine I am.”

She snickered at me just as we pulled down the drive. I could do this. I could be a doting husband to a woman I barely knew. We were just getting to know each other. It was completely backwards and made no sense, but we’d figure it out, and I’d live happily ever after.

“What?” she asked, staring at me from the passenger seat.

“Huh?”

“You were smiling and then you grimaced. What was it?”

“Oh, nothing. Just thinking about the new cats,” I lied. Although, now that we were home, I really did have to think about the fact that I was a pet owner. “You know, we should go over a few rules for the cats.”

“Sure.”

“Okay, uh…first, no climbing on the furniture.”

She nodded, but was biting back a smile. “Sure.”

“What’s so funny about that?”

“Well, have you ever had a cat?”

“No.”

“Then I guess you’ll find out why that’s funny soon enough. What else?”

That was a good fucking question. “Okay, the litter box needs to be out of sight. I don’t want to see it. Or smell it,” I added quickly.

“I will do my absolute best.”

Why did every answer sound like she was trying to placate me in an untenable situation?

“Anything else?”

I didn’t know anything about cats. What kind of guidelines, other than those, should I set up? “Not at this time, but I reserve the right to add more.”

“Of course.”

Well, that wasn’t too painful. I parked and helped her carry everything inside, blocking the door as three cats rushed me like linebackers. Luckily, they went right to her and left me alone. I narrowly escaped the claws of death and headed for the kitchen with the food.

“I’m gonna set up the litter boxes in the laundry room!” she called out.

“What? No!” I rushed down the hall to stop her. “There is no way litter boxes will be anywhere near clothes. That’s just wrong.”

“There’s nowhere else to put them. You don’t want litter on the carpet.”

Well, she was right about that. “Maybe we can just send them outside to go to the bathroom.”

She gasped, pressing her hand to her chest. “They could be attacked by other animals!”

“They have claws,” I argued. “I felt them in my balls this morning.”

“But that won’t protect them from larger animals. They’re just babies!” she cried, tears forming in her eyes. “What if they got out and we couldn’t find them? What if?—”

A single tear slipped down her cheek and I lost it. “Alright, alright. I’m sorry. I never should have suggested it. They can stay inside. They’ll…we’ll figure it out. Just…don’t cry.”

She sniffled, which was just as fucking bad, but a faint smile wobbled across her lips and her bright eyes shone through the tears, giving me a faint hope that the tears would dry up.

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