Letting Go Of Brent And Other Christmas Miracles : Chapter 6.2

 

I sat down on the window seat with a fresh mug of tea in hand, watching as my new community mingled on the street below. The week had flown by. This was the first time since I found Lester that I felt relaxed. At ease. I missed my best guy terribly but Cassandra was right, there was something about this apartment that felt like it fit. Like it was meant for me.

For a few brief minutes it was good to be here.

If this was one of the romance novels I usually enjoy on a night like tonight this would probably be time for the grand gesture.

The moment the love interest realized what he was about to lose, quit acting like a douche and showed up late in the third act or the moment for the meet cute with the exact man the lonely yet lovable protagonist was hoping her lost crush was going to be (whereas the crush turns out to be lacking in the very qualities the main character needs in a partner).

I looked at the clock. Six pm on New Year’s Eve. “It’s not going to happen Renee.” I whispered to myself. “Not for you. Not tonight.” I looked around the room. “What are you going to do about it?” My eyes stopped at a box topped with a large unopened bag of cat food. “I’m not going to sit around here feeling sorry for myself.” I said setting my mug down next to the window.

The cold air hit hard as the door closed behind me. “I’ll warm up if I keep moving. Keep moving.” I whispered to myself. With the college being closed for the semester, students and a large portion of the staff having left for the holidays, I was able to navigate both pedestrian and foot traffic fairly easily. Shelter hours showed they closed at six pm. but the Open sign was still up and the lights were on. I decided to take a chance and try the door letting myself in.

Moments later, a young woman emerged from the back of the building, drying her hands on a towel as she walked. “We’re closed for the holiday. Is this an emergency?” She called.

“No. Actually I wanted to know if you accepted donations.”

“We do. We accept food and supplies for both cats and dogs. Money is fine too. Cash or card only.”

“I have a box here. The food hasn’t been opened. I wasn’t sure what you could use and what you couldn’t so I just brought everything.” I spotted Lester’s favorite food dish in the box, the one with his name and an illustration of a cartoon bird in the bottom. I quickly lifted it out of the box. “Everything except this bowl.”

The young woman looked at me.

“That wasn’t supposed to be in the box. Sorry.”

Her eyes studied mine for a few beats before she returned to exploring the contents of the box. “How long ago did you lose him?” She asked.

“What?”

“Your cat...when did he die?”

My voice caught as I said, “A week ago.”

She nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.”

“You sure you don’t want to keep some of this?” She asked. When I didn’t answer right away she looked up. “For your next cat?”

“Lester was my grandmother’s cat when she took me in. After she died he moved in with me. He’s never not been there.”

“I get it.” After finishing pulling the items from the box she picked up a pen and started scribbling. “If you change your mind.”

I nodded.

“We also have fostering programs if you aren’t ready to make a lifetime commitment or if you ever need a kitty fix we can always use an extra pair of hands around this place.” She extended a hand. “I’m Terri by the way.”

“Renee.”

“Nice to meet you Renee. So what was Lester like?”

“He was a short haired domestic black cat. He was a cranky old man.” I found myself smiling a little with the memory.

“He didn’t like people?”

“Only if they had food. He would share the bed with me. He would let me help him down from high places when it became too painful for him to jump down on his own. He was a good companion.”

“I’ve pulled out what can be sanitized, we can accept the unopened food. Thank you for thinking of us.” Terri said handing back the box.

“You’re welcome. Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year.”

I turned to leave, before I walked through the door I heard something. I turned around.

“Because you had a cat like Lester, can I talk to you about something?”

“Sure.”

“We have this female cat, I’m kinda worried about her.” Terri hesitated. “It would be easier just to show you.”

Raising my head from beneath a sea of bubbles I ran my hand down my face and opened my mouth to get a breath of air. As my eyes focused they found a pair of green eyes peering at me from behind the toilet. They belonged to an adult female. A gray and white short haired domestic. She had big eyes and round cheeks. One of the sweetest faces I could imagine and she was slowly dying. When I heard her story, I knew I had to bring her home.

Rory had been dropped off by local law enforcement. The residents had been arrested and the children in the home sent to live with grandparents in another state. The grandmother was highly allergic to cats. Rory was nervous. Especially frightened by loud noises. This healthy well cared for spayed cat was relaxing some but she still drank little and did not seem to be eating. The vet told Terri unless something changed Rory probably wouldn’t make it much longer.

Terri was hoping that if someone fostered her in a quiet environment she might come around. My experience caring for a senior cat at the end of his life and being single with no children made me a very good candidate. As much as I’d been hurting lately, I still found myself wanting to help.

Rory’s eyes grew big. I turned my gaze away from hers and pretended she wasn’t there.

“I used to have a cat that lived with me. His name was Lester.” I said quietly. “We were together for his entire life. He was well cared for, happy, and safe.” I peered over the edge of the tub. She was still on alert. I finished my bath and left her alone to rest. Things went on like that for the rest of the evening. I woke just before midnight to find the bowl of food sitting near a towel covered cushion on the window seat still untouched. I had hung my heaviest blankets over the windows in an attempt to diffuse any sounds from fireworks or gun fire.

Turning on a lamp I found her watching me from underneath the coffee table. Without looking at her I continued. “We have a lot in common you know. We both are suffering...from broken hearts.” I looked in her direction, she was still there. “You a bit more I think. Guess what? We don’t have to suffer. We can get through this together. I hate to ask something of you since we just met a few hours ago but if I keep taking care of you will you please take care of me? Keep me company so I’m not sad?” I question whether this is a good choice or not for a moment. I think about what is it we need when we feel rejected or alone. The answer came quickly we need to feel loved but sometimes a person also needs to feel needed. She had a little boy who needed her. Rory was not only taken from her home but from the child she loved and cared for. Terri said Rory was about six. If the boy was very young Rory might feel lost like a mother does when her child is no longer there. It was a long shot. If I stressed my need for care and said a little prayer maybe a Christmas miracle would come to me.

I’d take it.

I don’t care if it’s a week late.

“The most important thing I need you to do kitty is to eat something.” I said, reaching out for the top of the coffee table and a paper plate where the remnants of my dinner was sitting, I laid a bit of chicken on the floor near her before closing my eyes.

When I woke the next morning she was curled up on the window seat sleeping. Food was missing from my abandoned plate. A small portion of kibble was no longer in her bowl and the water was gone. A belated Christmas miracle had arrived. Rory had eaten, as long she kept eating there was hope. As long as there was hope, well, that’s all that really mattered.

“Happy New Year Brent." I whispered. "I wish you health and happiness in the coming months.” 

  My love interest had not shown in the eleventh hour yet I was not alone. There was room for hope, time for growth, healing and to find a kitty her forever home.

The End and The Beginning.