Fame, Fate, and the First Kiss(32)

“So you got a kitten?”

“It’s not a kitten,” Mom said. “It’s a rescue cat.”

My sister pushed the salad across the island to where I stood. My stomach flipped. I wasn’t sure if it was from the smell of ranch that now overpowered me or the thought of a cat living in my room.

“Does it sleep on my bed?” I asked.

“We put a cat bed in the corner,” Mom said, which didn’t answer my question. She pulled a fork out of the drawer and handed it to me. “Eat up.”

Three very ranchy bites later I crept my way down the hall. So what? A cat lived in my room. It couldn’t be that bad. People liked cats for a reason. It couldn’t be their constant shedding or sharp skin-piercing claws, so something else.

I opened the door, and the smell hit me first. Some sort of urine mixed with Lysol. People absolutely couldn’t like animals for their smell.

“I haven’t had a chance to clean the litter box in a couple of days. It’s Syd’s job, but I usually double-check,” Mom said, following behind me. “But I did vacuum when you called. Pepper hates the vacuum.”

“Who?”

“The cat.”

“The cat’s name is Pepper?”

“Yes, she came with that name. Come here, kitty, kitty,” Mom said, walking around me and into the room. “She takes a while to warm up to a new person. Also she likes to jump out at legs when you walk by.”

My mom continued to talk, but I was busy looking at my room that wasn’t my room anymore. It was a cat haven. There was some sort of tower in the corner, rope was tied around each of the legs of my bed, creating scratching posts, a plastic mat with a litter box on top was tucked beside my dresser, and cat toys were scattered all over my bed. In my closet, my beautiful closet, all my clothes and shoes were gone, replaced by stacks of boxes. I couldn’t decide if I was more angry or sad.

My mom must’ve noticed my gaze because she said, “Pepper was batting at your hanging clothes and she peed on a pair of shoes, so I decided to pack away everything in your closet.”

“Why do people like animals again?” I mumbled.

She bit her lip. “I’m sorry. We were just getting the cat used to the house. She has trust issues, and they said it would be good to keep her in one room for a while and slowly introduce her to the rest of the house, and your room, seeing as how it was empty, seemed like the best option. She doesn’t really like people.”

“You adopted a cat that doesn’t like people?”

“She has the potential to like people. She wasn’t treated very well in her last house. Are you mad? You’re mad.”

My mom looked so stressed, and my siblings had seemed genuinely excited about this, so I said, “No, of course not. I’m only here for one night.”

“Thank you, honey. I promise by the time you get back, your room will be cat-free.”

“Sounds good.” I pointed to the boxes in the closet. “Do you remember which one might hold my sweats and tees?”

She gave me her sad eyes again. “I have no idea. You’ll just have to go through all of them.”

“Okay. I will.”

I went to the closet and pulled down the first box. My mom left the room and closed the door behind her, presumably so the cat wouldn’t get out.

“Is now the time you’re going to jump on me?” I asked the air around me. The cat didn’t respond. I snapped a pic of the litter box in the corner and sent it in a text to Amanda with the words: I’ve been replaced by a cat.

Your dad got a cat? Maybe it will divert some of his attention.

I smiled. I wish. No, my mom got a cat.

She needs to play the card game with you so she knows the important details about your personality.

Right? What are you doing with your day off?

I have escaped my trailer and am going to crash at a friend’s place.

Have fun!

I sat down and opened the first box from my closet. It was everything that had been on my dresser and taped onto my mirror—mainly pictures and jewelry. My mom hadn’t mentioned packing away the top of my dresser but when I looked over there now, sure enough, it was bare except for a weird-looking ball. The cat must’ve gotten into my things up there as well. It was fine. This was fine.

I turned my attention back to the pics and flipped through them. Most were from a musical I had directed over the summer—The Music Man. I had been a good director; I encouraged the actors and gave positive feedback. At least most of the time.

I dropped the pics in the box. No, I wasn’t going to let myself obsess on my day off. I needed a distraction.





Fourteen


After digging through five boxes to find clothes, reading my brother and sister a book before bed, and filling my mom in on the exciting world of moviemaking, I asked, “Do you mind if I hang out with some friends tomorrow, Mom?”

My mom sat next to me on the couch with a big glass of ice water. “No, of course not. You should.”

“Thank you.” The clock on the wall said it was close to ten. “Where is Bill? I thought he’d be home by now.”

“It’s that case I was telling you about. It keeps him late almost every night.”

“Tell him I said hi, then. I’m going to bed.”