Page 17 of Totally Opposed

“She wanted a pat,” I say, scratching that spot under her neck again, and I can see as she slightly closes her eyes she wants to give in, but she also doesn’t want to take her attention off Alan. “You’re a good kitty, aren’t you,” I croon.

“She’s a demon sent from hell to try and kill me is what she is. I still have cuts on my legs that haven’t healed.”

Gramps coughs a little in his chair by the window.

“You okay there, Don?” I ask and he waves a hand my way but continues to cough. Alan disappears then walks back in with a tall glass of water, straight past Precious without even a flinch, and kneels beside his grandfather.

“Here, Gramps, drink this,” he says, handing it over. After a few sips, Don is completely back to normal and shooing Alan away with his hand.

“I’m fine,” Gramps says, and Alan stands.

“It didn’t sound like you were fine,” he reasons. “When did you last have a visit from the doctor?”

“I’m fit as a fiddle, no need for no doctor. I’m totally fine. See, Precious is still over there with young Ryan. If I was truly in any danger, she’d be right at my side, I tell ya.”

Gramps climbs from the chair, struts over and picks up Precious, and she actually fights him a little, which makes me smile.

“Go on, out ya get before you get her all worked up,” Gramps says, and Alan walks around me to the door.

“I put on dinner. The microwave will beep when it’s done,” he says.

“Thanks, now be off with ya both.”

“You’re welcome,” I say and follow Alan out to the hall.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” Alan says as we make our way back down the stairs.

“You know, maybe those possessed cries she makes at night are just her trying to get some attention.”

“You can’t be serious. You spent all of two minutes with her and you’re ready to give up on the demon possession theory altogether? You saw how she greeted me, right?”

I shrug. “I guess she just likes me better. Come on, we better get in before Duckie destroys the sauce.”

When we get into the apartment, I find Ian standing by the stove top.

“Duckie got bored, but I think it’s almost done,” he says when we walk in.

“Cheers, I didn’t think I would be so long, but I ran into Alan. He’s going to stay for dinner, too.”

“Nice. No worries. Ryan always makes too much.”

“Do not. I’m following my granny’s recipe.”

Duckie walks out of their room. “And she used to cook for a family of ten.”

“Very funny. There were seven of them, actually.”

“So still more than twice as many as the number of people who live here then. Oh, hey, Alan, do you want a beer?” he asks, like seeing him in our place is the most normal thing in the world.

“Sure,” he replies, and they sit and chat in the living room while Ian helps me finish off dinner in the kitchen. I could halve the recipe to make less, but then I would have to find a smaller baking tray, and half the cream would just sit in the fridge unused. I guess now I could give it to Precious.

“So, you and Alan. Is that new?” Ian asks as he chops the potatoes I’ve peeled and puts them into the pot of boiling water.

“It’s not anything. I just ran into him at the grocery store.”

“Sure it’s not. You just go around inviting everyone to dinner, my mistake,” he chuckles, and I can’t stop the smirk that finds its way to my lips.

“Okay, so I like him, but he’s on the other team, and it would just be…messy.

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