Page 48 of We Can Stay
“Oh, I...” I shake my head. I already have one cat at my condo that I’m trying to find a home for. And yet... This guy is so sweet. I can’t just leave him here.
“We’ll take him,” Sebastian says.
I raise my eyebrows at him. “We will?”
“He can be our office cat.” Sebastian comes over and scratches the cat by its tail. The little critter arches its back in pleasure. “Our last one died months ago from old age. We need a kitty to sit in the window and judge all the dogs that come in. This guy would be perfect.”
Warmth spreads through me, and Sebastian and I lock eyes. He always has the right answer at the right time, and I wonder if he can read in my face how grateful I am for that.
“I can hold him in my lap in the car,” I say, hoping this cat rides well and I don’t end the journey with scratches all over my face.
“No need. I have a carrier in the back.”
“Of course you do.” Taking the cat in my arms, I stand, sliding my phone into my pocket. He purrs even louder.
“Remember,” Lil says as she walks off, “I’ve got to make a move next week.”
Sebastian doesn’t respond, but his mood dampens considerably.
“What was that about?” I ask.
“She wants the money sooner.” His shoulders tense. “I’ll figure it out. Come on. Let’s get this little guy to his new home.”
“I think he’ll make a great office cat.” I nuzzle my face against the cat’s furry one as we walk back to Sebastian’s car.
“What are you going to call him?”
I guffaw. “You’re leaving me to name him? Do you not remember that I named my cat ‘Cat’?”
Sebastian grins. “You just called her your cat.”
“I... If—when we find the right home for her, then she’ll go. Until then, yeah—okay, she kind of is my cat. My foster cat.”
“You foster cats now?” Laughing, he opens the car trunk and pulls out a small carrier.
I narrow my eyes at him. “Keep laughing, buddy. You’re the one who got me into all of this.”
“And I’m not sorry one bit.” Taking the cat from my arms, he gently places it in the carrier. The animal mews in protest but then thankfully settles once we’re bumping back down the driveway.
Unfortunately, being on the road full of potholes does nothing for my nausea. I shift in my seat, trying to get comfortable, aware of Sebastian’s curious gaze.
“You okay? Is it the arthritis?”
“No, it’s...” I hesitate. I didn’t even send the text I wrote to Hannah about the pericarditis.
And now that my moment of weakness is over, I feel the familiar walls coming back up. There’s no reason to worry anyone, no reason to get them more involved than they need to be.
“I’ve been taking a stomach protectant with my regular meds,” I say, “and I forgot to take it this morning, so I’m nauseous.”
The way his face folds in worry both touches and annoys me. Yes, I want to be cared about, but I also don’t want to be a burden or be seen as less capable because of my health.
“It’s fine. I’ll be okay.”
“Lean your seat back and rest.” He turns his blinker on and drives into a gas station. “I’ll be right back.”
He pops out of the car, and the cat starts meowing again.
“It’s okay,” I tell the cat. “He won’t be gone long... I think,” I add, realizing Sebastian didn’t even tell me why we’re stopping.
