Page 37 of Priest

“You’ll see.”

A few moments later, my hairless Dwelf — a sphynx, dwarf crossed minute elf cat — strolls into the foyer and glances up at us.

“Oh God!” she says. “Oh, Priest, he’s gorgeous!”

I laugh. “Glad you think so.” He’s gray with short, stumpy legs, big ears and these big golden eyes. “Most people are freaked out by him.”

“Is he friendly?”

“Very. He thinks he’s a dog, and loves to play with his ball and snuggle.”

She bends down and he comes to her, sniffing her hand as he purrs and rubs up against her. “He’s so sweet.”

“I think he likes you,” I tell her. That’s a good sign. He sometimes doesn’t play well with others.

“How long have you had cats?”

I watch her stroking his head as he laps it up. “About five years. Someone I know runs a shelter in town called Faux Paws, and they often get strays, or animals that come into care through no fault of their own. I got Jinx there — he was left in a dumpster as a kitten.”

She gasps. “How could anyone do that?”

“People are evil, that’s all I know. Little Dexter here, his owners said he scared the children. They at least did the right thing and turned him over to the vet, instead of trying to make a profit or selling him to a breeding farm.”

“People are sick.”

“Tell me about it. So now they live their best lives with me. Sleeping for twenty-three hours a day, waking only to eat and get tummy rubs and watch television on the couch.”

She laughs. “He’s adorable.” She stands, holding Dexter in her arms. Jinx returns, brushing up against her legs as she looks down. He runs off when she tries to pat him. “I take it Jinx is a little shyer?”

“He likes to run under things and hide until he knows it’s okay. We’re not sure what happened to him before he was dumped, but he’s honestly the sweetest boy,” I say. “He’ll come to you when he’s ready. That’s what I love about him. One day, you’ll be sittin’ there and he’ll just crawl into your lap and lie there like nothin’ happened. It took a year for him to even come close to me.”

She smiles softly. “You’re a cat guy.”

“I guess I am.”

“Huh.” She scratches under Dexter’s chin and he laps it up. “These kinds of cats are so cool. I know they look kinda weird, but they’re so sweet, aren't you boy?”

Well, I guess she’s cool with my animals. I forgot to ask if she was allergic, but I guess she isn’t.

“Did you have any pets growin’ up?”

She shakes her head. “Never. My father wouldn’t even let me get a goldfish.”

I scruff Dexter under the chin as he purrs in her arms. “Looks like you’ve got yourself a new friend.”

She looks relaxed and happy, and for a moment it takes my mind off things. And probably hers, too.

“So the guest room slash attic is also partly my office,” I say. “It does have a fold out bed, and a closet. It’s not as bad as it sounds; it has windows and is quite light and airy. Or if it’s too uncomfortable, you could take my bed.” The minute the words leave my mouth I regret them.

Her lips part and I realize I’ve put my foot in it.

“What I meant was, I’d sleep in the attic, and you could take the bed…”

She giggles. It’s the first time I’ve heard a noise like that escape her lips and I like it. “I know what you meant. You don’t have to keep tiptoeing around me thinking I’ll get the wrong idea about you, Priest. Honestly. The attic will be fine, thank you, for all of this; taking me in and giving me refuge in a safe place. You don’t know what it means to me.”

“It’s the least I could do. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t?”

I move ahead of her, past the mudroom and into the open living area. “I’ll give you the full tour, then we can grab something to eat?”

---