A Walk Along the Beach(13)

“I’m glad.” He stood with me and said, “Let me frame it for you.”

“No, please, let me do that. Thank you again.”

I was sad to see him go. In those brief moments I felt that I’d gotten to know him a bit more. How I wished we could have talked longer.



* * *



—

By the time I closed for the day and got the dough mixed for the following morning, I was exhausted and at the same time exhilarated. Although hesitant to admit it, I knew the smile I wore was due to Sean’s visit and the photo he’d given me.

    When I arrived back at the apartment, Harper was lounging on the sofa. As soon as I walked in the door, she catapulted off and stood before me. Guilt was written all over her. My sister was incredibly easy to read.

“What did you do?” I asked, not giving her a chance to speak.

“Don’t be mad.”

I froze, afraid to discover what scrape she’d gotten herself into this time. “Why would I be mad?” I asked tentatively, waiting while I held my breath.

Rubbing her palms together, she paced in front of the sofa, avoiding eye contact. “I’m sorry, Willa, but I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t say no.”

“No to what?” I asked, lowering my voice.

“Wait here.” She held out her arm to keep me from following her. Hurrying into her bedroom, she returned with a small white kitten cuddled up against her midsection. She held it as though it was the most precious object in the world.

“You got a cat?” I cried, aghast.

“A kitten,” she corrected.

“Who will grow into a cat.” Did I seriously need to remind my sister that this kitten wouldn’t stay small?

“Yes, I know, but isn’t she adorable?” She stared down lovingly at the white puffball.

“She?” I could already see the vet bills mounting.

“Well, I think she’s a she. It’s hard to tell. She could be a he, which is why I chose a generic name.”

As hard as it was, I felt I needed to remind her of what we already knew. “Harper, our lease states that we aren’t allowed to have pets in this apartment.”

“Who will know?” she asked. “Think about it, Willa. When was the last time we saw our landlord?”

    She had a point. If we paid the rent on time, there was no reason for the landlord to make a visit.

Tucking the kitten below her chin, Harper rubbed its tiny head. “I named her Snowball.”

“Snowball,” I repeated, which I had to admit was the perfect name.

“You aren’t upset, are you?”

“Honestly, Harper, we can’t keep her. We could get kicked out of the apartment if anyone finds out.”

My sister had apparently thought this through, because she shrugged as if that would be a small inconvenience. “If that happens, we’ll move, or maybe I’ll move myself. You could keep the apartment. We aren’t attached at the hip, you know. The time will come when you’ll want your own space and I won’t be here.”

“What?” I started to argue, but she cut me off.

“You don’t need to worry, I’ll take care of her. I’ll keep Snowball in my room with a litter box.”

“You can’t keep that sweet kitten a prisoner in your room,” I insisted. “That would be unfair to Snowball.”

“Don’t make me take her back,” Harper pleaded.

“Where did you get her?”

Petting the tiny kitten, Harper explained. “Candi Olsen from my yoga class. You remember Candi, don’t you?”

I did. She was a frequent customer.

“Anyway, Candi found the mother and this litter under her back deck. She brought the kittens into class with her, looking for homes. Snowball was the only one left. The funny part is, Snowball was the one I wanted. It was fate, I tell you. She was meant to be with me.”

Looking at the tiny kitten, I was torn. It was hard to refuse Harper, especially when she was this adamant. And I certainly didn’t want her to move. Her eyes continued to plead with mine. Heaving a sigh, I reluctantly nodded.

    “I knew you’d agree,” she said, dancing about our small living area. “You have a home, Snowball.”

“As long as you remember she’s your cat, and you’re footing the bill for all the costs of the vet.”

“Gotcha.” Harper beamed at me.

Although I was hesitant to admit it, Snowball was irresistible.





CHAPTER 6





Sean


I decided to name the dog Bandit, seeing that it seemed that he had a habit of stealing. He seemed to adjust quickly enough to a more domesticated lifestyle, although in the beginning it’d been hard on both of us. Regular feedings seemed to have persuaded him that it was worth keeping me around.

Mellie, Preston’s wife, had examined him and found him to be a mixed breed. Her guess on the specifics was as good as mine. She suspected he was part shepherd and several parts something else. Whatever it was, it appeared he’d gotten the best of all sides, smart as he was. We both guessed he’d had a home before and had been either lost or abandoned. There’d been no identification on him and no chip. After all these weeks, if he’d been lost there would have been some effort to find him. As far as we could see from an Internet search, no one was looking.