Two From Isaac's House
Page 40
Amber only added, “Yeah, thanks.”
She shut the door and started the engine.
Rocket yowled as she backed out onto the road, then turned toward Route 17. He slunk to the floor of the back seat and huddled in fear of the vibrations and the road noise, and when she reached to the back, he retreated from her hand.
At a stop sign, Amber tried talking to him. “You may not remember me, but you were supposed to be my cat too.”
Rocket wailed. She looked over the seat to make sure he was still on the floor, and he met her eyes. “It’s okay, buddy. At least we’re together now.”
At home, Amber carried Rocket up two flights of steps to her apartment. He took off for the closest available hiding space, behind the couch. “Well, bye then.”
It took five minutes more to bring up the litter pan, the half-box of litter and the bag of Meow Mix, and when she returned, the cat had left cat-poop on the rug.
“Welcome home,” Amber said. Annoying, but she just filled the box and cleaned the carpet.
Also during that five minutes to bring up the kitty gear, she’d missed a call. She dialed into voicemail while saying, “You know, Rocket, you can come out now. I promise not to eat you.”
And then came the message. “Amber, honey?” It was her mom—her mom, hysterical. “I need you to come over now. Right now.”
Oh crud. Was Dad sick? Had the place burned to the ground?
After a dreadful silence, Mom continued, “I think you have a twin.”
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