Page 25 of Bullet
Next to me, Celia started to shift and stretch in bed and then her eyes drifted open. “Morning.”
“Good morning,” I replied. “Sorry, I’ve been staring. I’m shocked you’re still here.”
She snickered. “Oh, you really are planning to get a lot of mileage out of that, aren’t you?”
“Why shouldn’t I?” I responded and then leaned down and kissed her.
In truth, I wasn’t a man who thought much about the future. For a large chunk of my life, I never even knew if I was going to make it from day to day. Between being abused for most of my childhood and up through my bad accident of a few years ago, my goal was always just “make it to tomorrow”. When Nick first asked if I’d ever thought about moving up in the club, and when the younger members first talked about me being ghosted, I realized I was being forced to think beyond tomorrow.
What did I want to do with my days beyond tomorrow?
Celia’s hand went up to my cheek and brushed along it. “What are you thinking about? You’ve got this really scrunched-up look on your face.”
“Just life,” I said.
She sat up a little, holding herself up on her forearms. “What do you mean?”
I shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. Are you hungry? I’ll make us some breakfast.”
Celia recoiled a bit but nodded. “I could eat.”
Leaning over and taking one more kiss from her, I climbed out of the bed and walked down the hallway and turned into the kitchen. Both Chatterbox and Jingle were there in an instant, both no doubt angry that I’d slept in and denied them their timely breakfasts, so I grabbed a bag of treats from the cabinet and dropped a couple on the counter for each of them while I filled their bowls.
“Oh, hello,” Celia said, turning into the kitchen and seeing the cats. “Who do we have here?” Jingle was gone in a flash. He wasn’t a social cat, and the presence of someone new was never something he approved of. “Rude,” Celia joked.
“Sorry. That was Jingle. He’s not a people person.”
“I see. This one, however…” As Celia was talking, Chatterbox walked over to her and started to nuzzle himself against her arm, begging for any head scratches she had to offer, complete with a begging meow. “He’s talkative.”
“Well, that’s why his name is Chatterbox,” I said.
Her jaw dropped. “Is it really?”
“Yep.”
“Does he like being held?” she asked.
“Loves it.”
Celia curled her arms under Chatterbox and lifted him up from his spot on the counter, and Chatterbox nuzzled his head against her neck. I smiled at him, understanding his affection toward her, and loving the adorable way she giggled as he snuggled her.
“I suppose this is what I miss when I cut and run,” she said.
I started chopping up some potatoes and green onions to fry. “It is. Unlike his brother, he loves making new friends. Hang around long enough and he’ll never leave you alone.”
“I think I’d be okay with that.” She walked over and looked down at the bowls on the counter. “This is their food, I assume?”
“Yeah,” I responded. “Chatter will go for his when you two are done cuddling and Jingle will starve before he comes in here with you standing here.”
Celia lifted the bowls from the table and walked into the living room and sat down on the floor. She crossed her legs and set the bowls on the floor in front of her. The second she set Chatterbox down, he walked over to his bowl and started to munch, but the other bowl sat untouched. I continued to prepare breakfast until I heard Celia clicking her tongue and tapping her leg. I looked back over and saw that Jingle was curled up under the dining room table, looking over at her. She took a handful of his food kernels from his bowl and set them in a line leading from about halfway to the table, and the bowl, and then returned to her spot.
“Come here, Jingle. I won’t hurt you.” She tapped her leg. “Come on. Come get your breakfast.”
All breakfast preparation stopped as Jingle slowly stood up from where he was and started to tentatively step out. He approached the first kernel in the line and chomped it up, then took to the next piece. He continued through the line until he finally got to the last one, and to my utter surprise, he dove into his food with Celia sitting just behind the bowl. She stuck out her hand and he sniffed it a few times, then continued eating as she began to nuzzle his head.
“Wow. I’m… truly impressed,” I said. “He doesn’t usually take to people. Even my dad he stays away from.”
“Well, I have a certain knack for dealing with the difficult,” she responded.
