Page 104 of Phishing for Love
“I like the curls.”
I resist the urge to touch my hair again. “Thank you.”
He looks around my living room. “Your decor is interesting.”
“How so?” I ask, even though I know what he means.
“It feels like a retirement home in here,” he elaborates. “It’s just so at odds with your personality.”
“This was my grandma’s house,” I explain. “She gifted it to me after my grandfather died. She lives with my folks now, but she still visits, and it comforts her to see her stuff here, to be reminded of him.”
Aaron briefly closes his eyes, looking pained. “I apologize.”
“It’s okay,” I start to say.
“No, it’s not,” he interrupts. “It was crass and thoughtless of me. And now that you’ve told me why you keep the house as your grandma had it, well, I’m seeing it with fresh eyes, and I was wrong. The kindness here totally reflects your personality.”
I swallow past the lump in my throat. “Family’s important,” I say simply.
“Yes, it is.” His expression clouds and I wonder if he’s thinking of his family. Of his sister. “Speaking of family,” he says lightly, “where’s Ash? I took a liking to him when I was here last.”
“You like him?” I ask, surprised. “He doesn’t trust people so he’s not too friendly.”
“That’s why I like him. We have something in common.”
“He was sleeping earlier. Maybe he’s awake now. Ash,” I call. I notice his basket is empty and his bowl of food in the kitchen is untouched. I frown. “That’s strange. He hasn’t eaten his dinner. He normally loves his food.”
I call his name again, feeling the first stirrings of unease.
Aaron follows me to the dining room, one of Ash’s favorite places to hide when he wants some alone time. I pull out a dining room chair to peer under the table and that’s when I see him lying there.
“Hey, Ash, I brought you a visitor.”
He doesn’t move.
I stare up at Aaron, who takes one look at my face and asks instantly, “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know,” I reply a little shakily. “He’s not usually lethargic like this.”
Aaron pushes aside another chair and hunkers down next to me. Ash doesn’t even lift his head to check out Aaron.
Worry seeps into me. “This is not like him at all.”
“How long has he been like this?”
“This morning he was playful. When I came home, he was sleeping, but he still responded to me.” I stand. “I have the number of an after-hours vet. I think I’ll call them.”
Aaron stands too. “Probably a good idea.” He looks around the dining room, rubbing the back of his neck. All at once, he stills.
“Tess, pick Ash up,” he orders in a low, urgent voice. “We’re taking him to the closest emergency clinic.”
I stand there, frozen. “What?”
“Move, Tess!” Aaron grabs a blanket out my wicker basket and shoves it into my hands. “We need to get him to a vet.”
The urgency in his voice finally penetrates. I’m flooded with fear and confusion, but I don’t ask Aaron any more questions.
As gently as I can, I pick Ash up and wrap him loosely in the blanket. There’s no time to fetch his cat carrier, which I keep in a box at the back of my cupboard.
