Page 38 of A Love Like Pumpkin Spice
“What’s his handle?” Nic asks, but Kieran intercepts her before Lauren can hand Nic her phone.
“I’ll tell you later,” she whispers loudly with a wink, quickly schooling her face when Caleb is back at the table. He sets down Kieran’s and my usual drink with a loud clank and glare to go along with it.
“Want some pumpkin spice syrup?” Lauren can’t help but ask in a fake whisper, way too loudly to be intended as subtle.
“Don’t you dare.” Caleb shoots Kieran and me a hard look before he turns back around.
“You’re the first person in a long time to get him to show emotion,” I whisper, swallowing back a grin. “Even if it’s anger.”
“Good,” she whispers back and smirks. “I’m going to have a lot of fun.”
“That poor guy,” I say with a chuckle, noting the dangerous grin on her face. Apparently, Caleb will have his hands full with this one.
“By the way,” Kieran quickly changes topics. And judging by the glare Caleb shoots our way, it’s the right decision. “What’s with you two and the antique store? Andrea told me about you helping out that afternoon, but a little bird told me you’re there pretty often.”
“Oh, we help out Amanda now,” Nic explains with a happy smile. “You know, setting up a website for her and all that stuff. And in exchange, she doesn’t curse us. Fair deal, isn’t it?”
“And I get a card reading!” Lauren adds, happily taking a sip of her coffee concoction. “I always wanted to get one!”
Nic shakes her head with a soft giggle, then glances at me. “It’s fun. I get to take a break from Pumpkin’s screaming and research old furniture.”
“Is she still that bad?” I ask her with a grin. Of all the cats I’ve encountered, she’s by far the most vocal one. It’s funny if I only see her for a few hours, but God, I couldn’t imagine hearing that twenty-four-seven, and I already have an extremely vocal dog.
“Only when she’s hungry or if the day ends with Y.” Nic rolls her eyes. “I’m hoping she grows out of it.”
“If not, let me know. Happy to help you find a strategy to calm her down,” I offer, ignoring the knowing eyebrow wiggle Lauren makes at Nic.
Chapter 13
Henry
“Mom, I’ll call you back, okay? Now’s not a good time.”
I take a deep breath and sink deeper into one of the chairs in my waiting room, my head pounding with a threatening migraine. Good thing I listened to my gut and added comfortable chairs in here, even if they cost me twice as much.
“Are you okay, honey?” Mom sounds worried, but the question almost makes me burst into laughter.
It’s the exact same question I asked Nic after Chaos had passed. Well, minus the “honey.” Right now, I think I understand exactly why she reacted the way she did. Understand that sinking feeling of helplessness, a stern reminder that your own existence is temporary. As if all joy has been sucked out of the world.
“I will be,” I assure her, my hand subconsciously finding Jensen’s head, running my fingers through his fur. “Thanks, Mom. I’ll see you on Friday.”
Slowly, I lower the phone, my entire body slumping into the chair, the dull pain relentlessly throbbing behind my temples with the force of a sledgehammer.
Putting an animal to sleep is never easy. There are others that revel in the power of taking a life. I’ve met a psychopath or two in college who said it gave them a sense of control, with a smile that never quite reached their eyes.
Butfor me? It’s the worst thing about my job. Even if I know it’s the kind thing to do, the necessary evil to relieve them of their suffering and pain. Some days, it’s hard to make peace with it. What if there was something I could have done after all? What if this animal actually had the zero-point-zero-one chance to get better?
Jensen jumps into the chair next to mine, licking my face and whining the song of his people, nudging his nose against my cheek.
“Are you trying to cheer me up?” I ask him, the corner of my mouth twitching, but not quite making it to a smile. “Thank you, Deanie-Beanie.”
“Deanie-Beanie?” My eyes jump to the door when I hear Nic’s amused voice. And there she is. Dressed in an oversized beige sweater and a light brown skirt, like an angel sent to rescue me from my foul mood. “I thought his name is Jensen.”
Calmness washes over me, akin to a sudden warm burst of rain that washes away the exhaustion and sadness.
“It is,” I answer softly, a smile coming to me easily all of a sudden. And while the self-doubt and sadness haven’t suddenly disappeared, they have scooched into the background of my consciousness. “Deanie-Beanie is one of his many nicknames.”
“I love it,” she says with a soft grin, and that’s when I notice the box in her hands. Suddenly, a flicker of worry crosses her face. “Why does he need to cheer you up, though? Did something happen?”
