Page 38 of On My Side
“Can she hang out in the back seat with me?” my daughter asks, seemingly ignoring his anecdote.
“Sure thing, Pipe,” he answers, handing her the cat carrier. “She might be shy at first, but she’s sweeter than pie when she’s used to you.”
Meanwhile, I’m becoming a pile of goo at hearing him call Piper “Pipe.” No one else calls her that besides me, and maybe I should be jealous, like he’s inserting himself in my relationship with my daughter.
But I feel brightjoywashing over me at the fact Piper has someone else who wants to shorten her name, like they might be different, they might want to stick around.
Is this what Piper meant by more than happy? This light, airy feeling of joy and security and gratitude that exists simply because of Ren shortening her name?
If so, I’m fucked.
Chapter 14
Audrey
Playlist: Lay It on Me | Vance Joy
Ren parks his car in the inn parking lot and I’m filled with an uneasy sense of disappointment. This was as close to a perfect night as I’ve ever had.
Except for Ren’s apartment flooding and Piper’s apparent audition for Yente, the matchmaker fromFiddler on the Roof. Those things were less than perfect.
“They know you’re coming,” I say, averting my eyes. I don’t want to face him, face the midnight of this Cinderella-like experience. “Show your ID at the front desk and Nia will give you your key.”
“Thank you,” he says quietly, and I dare to glance at him out of the corner of my eye. He’s studying his hands in his lap, like he’s avoiding my gaze, too.
I clear my throat and unbuckle my seatbelt. “I hope you have a good stay. Let me or any of the staff know if you need anything.”
“I will,” he answers as I climb out of the car. Piper is out, cradling Princess Leia’s carrier securely in her arms.
“Let’s go, I have to set up her litter box,” Piper says solemnly, walking towards the cottage.
“Shit,” I hiss as I come to a stop. “We don’t have a litter box.”
“Yes, we do,” Piper calls over her shoulder.
I stare at the back of her head. “Why on earth would we have a litter box?”
Piper stops walking and turns around, eyebrow raised. “It’s calledmanifesting, Mom. And yes, I have the actual litter and a scoop, too.”
“Where are these alleged cat supplies?”
“Under my bed, duh.”
When I was her age, I was hiding romance novels I got from the library under my bed. I’d tell the librarian I was getting them for my mom, and looking back, shehadto know I wasn’t. Meanwhile, Piper is keeping a litter box and the supplies that go with it under her bed as an attempt to manifest a cat in her life.
When we’re in the house, Piper springs into action, setting up the food and water bowls Ren provided in the kitchen. She fills them and we head to her room where she sets up the litter box before crouching next to the carrier and unzipping it.
Leia’s little calico head pops out of the opening, curiously taking in her surroundings.
“Hi, pretty kitty,” Piper coos, a huge smile on her face. Goddammit. I’m gonna have to get this kid a cat, aren’t I?
“Be gentle with her, Piper. She’s in a strange place with strange people so give her time to…” My voice trails off as Leia gingerly climbs out of the carrier and into Piper’s lap. She kneads Piper’s thigh, a purr as loud as a motorbike reverberating through her little body.
Piper looks at me smugly. “You were saying?”
I roll my eyes. “Okay, cat whisperer. You got everything under control?”
“Yup.” Piper pops the ‘p.’
