It was the fort she and Janice had made.
Her throat swelled as she looked at the old branches, now gray and smooth with age. They’d absorbed so many tears, so much pain. They’d been a needed refuge. Their fort had survived all these years, a mute monument to the bond she shared with Janice.
Did you lead your boy to our old fort, Jan?
She wiped the back of her hand across her eyes as Nick knelt in the dirt and pushed the branches aside. Immediately she heard a plaintive meow, and a small gray head poked out of the shelter.
The cat butted its head against Nick’s hand as he petted her, and with a shamefaced glance back at Claire, Nick pulled something out of his pocket. It was a piece of the chicken they’d had for dinner, and the cat inhaled it.
“He doesn’t look too sick to me,” she said softly.
“He hardly moves at all,” Nick replied. “When I found him, he was just lying in some leaves. He followed me for a while, then he lay down again. I’m afraid he’s hurt.”
“Can you coax him out of the shelter?” she asked.
Nick nodded. “He comes when I call his name.”
“You named him?” Her heart twisted in her chest.
“Yeah. I call him Joe.”
Joe was a gray tiger cat. When he emerged from the shelter and plopped down on the ground next to Nick, she saw that he had an enormous belly. “Are you sure it’s a he?” she asked softly.
“What do you mean?” Nick glanced at her, confused.
“It could be pregnant.”
“Is that why he’s so fat?”
“It’s possible. I have no idea how to tell.” She shifted on her knees and reached out a tentative hand to the cat, allowing it to sniff her fingers. When she ran a hand over its side, the cat began to purr.
“He does that a lot,” Nick said.
“This isn’t a wild cat,” Claire said as the cat arched into her hand. “This cat belongs to someone.”
“What should we do with him, Aunt Claire?”
Claire blinked as her eyes burned again. Nick rarely called her “Aunt Claire.” “Let’s take him back to the house, to begin with. A sick cat doesn’t belong outside.”
“Okay.” Nick scooped up the cat, cradling it tenderly in his arms. The animal seemed perfectly happy.
Once they were home, Joe explored the house, sniffing at everything, weaving around the legs of the table, finally plopping onto the floor and meowing plaintively.
“I think Joe is hungry,” Claire said.
“That’s why I was bringing him some milk.”
“I think he needs more than milk. Why don’t we go to the grocery store and get him some food?”
“Can we?” The hope on Nick’s face was almost painful.
“Sure. Let me grab my purse.”
“Do you think he’ll be okay while we’re gone?”
She looked at the cat lying in the middle of the kitchen floor. He looked perfectly content, gazing around like a king surveying his kingdom. “I think he’ll be fine,” she answered. “But if you’re worried that he’s going to be scared, we can put him in the bathroom.”
“Okay.” Nick picked up the cat, murmuring to it in a low voice. After he closed the bathroom door, he bounced to his feet. “Hurry. I don’t want to leave him alone for long.”
Forty-five minutes later they walked back into the house, carrying litter, a litter pan and several different kinds of cat food. Her eyes had prickled with tears as she watched Nick choose everything with great care.
When they closed the door behind them, Joe started crying in the bathroom. Nick dropped his bags on the floor and flung open the door. The cat crawled into his arms.
Claire watched them, bemused. Nick cuddled the cat next to his chest, crooning something to him. And the cat seemed perfectly happy to be there.
“Which kind of food do you want to give him tonight?” she asked.
Nick looked up and shrugged. “Whatever you think.”
She opened a can of food, and Joe jumped out of Nick’s arms. Scooping the contents into a bowl, she handed it to Nick. “Here, you should be the one who feeds him.”
Nick set the bowl on the floor, then hovered as Joe wolfed it down. In less than two minutes the food was gone and Joe was licking the bowl.
“I think he’s still hungry,” Nick said.
“He probably is,” Claire agreed. “But I think we should wait a while to feed him again. If he eats too much, he might get sick.”
Claire set up the litter pan in the bathroom, then watched as the cat followed Nick around the house like a shadow. Finally, she said to him, “Are you finished with your homework?”
“I have a little more to do.”
“Why don’t you get started? You can take Joe up to your room with you if you like. Just leave the door open in case he needs to use the litter pan.”
“Okay.”
Nick’s face glowed with happiness as he scooped up the cat and hurried up the stairs. She heard him talking to Joe in a low voice and her eyes burned again. Why hadn’t she thought about a pet for Nick before now?
Because a pet was another complication she didn’t want to think about. Her condo in Chicago had a no-pets rule. They wouldn’t be able to bring Joe, or any other animal, back to Chicago with them.
Part of her wanted to warn Nick not to get too attached to the cat. Even without the issue of her condo, someone was likely to claim Joe. He was too sweet-natured to be feral.
But right now she just wanted to enjoy this side of her nephew, a side of him she’d never seen before. Maybe a pet, even if he was temporary, was just the thing Nick needed.
Maybe Joe could be the anchor Nick needed in his unsettled life. She wanted her nephew to revel in the uncomplicated love of a pet. And maybe Joe could help Nick express the love she knew was hiding inside him.
NICK LOOKED at Joe again, but the cat was still sleeping on his bed, his head tucked into his chest. He’d been there ever since they came upstairs. As he watched the cat sleep, it looked like Joe’s belly began to move.
“Aunt Claire,” he yelled. “Come quick.”
His aunt ran up the stairs. “What’s wrong?”
“I think Joe has worms.” He stared at Joe’s belly, which had stopped moving.
Aunt Claire shrank away from the cat. “How come? Did you see one?”
“No! But his belly was moving like it was full of worms.”
“Ewww.” Aunt Claire backed away from the cat. “Take him off your bed.”
“It’s not his fault,” Nick protested. “He can’t help it if he has worms.”
“I know it’s not his fault. But I don’t want him on your bed if he has worms.”
Nick didn’t like the idea very much either, so he picked Joe up and held him close. “What should we do?”
“I’ll call the veterinarian,” Aunt Claire said. “Maybe we can take Joe to the clinic and have someone look at him.”
A few minutes later she called up the stairs, “They can see us right away. Let’s go, Nick.”
It didn’t take long to drive to the clinic. Nick clutched Joe, worried about what the vet would say.
The receptionist asked them a bunch of questions. Then she put them in a room and said Dr. Burns would be right in.
A few minutes later a woman walked in. Aunt Claire stood up. “Molly? Molly Burns?” she asked.
“Hi, Claire. Welcome back to Monroe,” the vet said. She gave his aunt a smile. “I’d heard you were back in town. I’ve been meaning to call.”
“This is my nephew, Nick. Janice’s son.”
“Hi, Nick,” the vet said.
“You moved away in high school,” Aunt Claire said. “When did you move back here?”
“A couple of years ago.” The vet looked sad for a moment. “I came back with my daughter after my husband passed away.”
“You have a daughter?” Aunt Claire asked.
“Her name is Caitlyn. She’s fourteen. We didn’t change her name
after I got married.”
Nick tightened his grip on Joe and the cat meowed. The vet was Caitlyn Burns’s mom?
“What do you have here, Nick?”
“This is Joe. We think he might have worms.”
“Let’s take a look at him.”
Caitlyn’s mom poked at Joe and looked at his ears, his mouth and beneath his tail. Then she pushed at his belly.
“I think you’re going to have to come up with a different name for Joe,” she finally said with a smile. “Josephine might be a better choice. Joe’s a female. And she’s very pregnant.”
Aunt Claire put her hand on Joe’s belly. “So that’s why her belly was moving. We thought she had worms.”
“She might, but what you saw was her kittens.”
“What do we do?” Aunt Claire asked.
“I’ll give her medicine for worms today.”
“No, I mean about the kittens.”
“You don’t have to do a thing.” Dr. Burns smiled and petted Joe. “You can give her a box with towels, but she’ll have the kittens when and where she feels like it.”
After more questions about taking care of Joe, his aunt said to Mrs. Burns, “We should get together, Molly.”
Caitlyn’s mom smiled. “I’d love to, Claire. Give me a call.”
Nick watched the two adults, wondering what they would talk about. Maybe Aunt Claire would tell Dr. Burns about seeing Caitlyn in the ice cream shop. His face burned as he remembered what a dork he’d been.
“Call me if you have any more questions,” Dr. Burns said as she held the door open for them.
Joe purred the whole way home. Nick watched his aunt’s face, wondering what she was thinking.
“I’ll take care of Joe,” he finally said, desperate to keep the cat. “I’ll feed her and clean up after her and everything. You won’t have to do a thing.”
His aunt glanced over at him. “You know her real owner might show up,” she said. Nick couldn’t believe she actually sounded sad about it. “We’ll have to put up signs in case someone is looking for her.”
“What if no one wants her? Can I keep her?” He held his breath, waiting for her answer.
“Of course.” His aunt smiled at him. “I’ve always wanted a cat.”
“Then how come you don’t have one?”
A shadow crossed her face. “My condo in Chicago doesn’t allow pets.”
That sick feeling in his stomach came back, the one he hadn’t felt for a while. “Then I guess she’ll have to stay here with me when you go home.”
She shot him a look, but said only, “We’ll figure something out.”
Nick was still worrying about it when they turned into the driveway and saw Coach Hall’s truck. Another fear gripped him. Was Coach here to tell his aunt about the grade he’d gotten on his essay, the one he’d blown off because he needed to take care of Joe?
“Hey, Nick. Hi, Claire,” Coach called as he got out of his truck. “I just stopped by to see how you were doing.”
Coach went up to his aunt and took her hand, and Nick narrowed his eyes. What was going on?
“I’m fine,” Aunt Claire said. She gave him a sappy smile. “Thanks for checking on me.”
“I told you I’d stop by.”
Aunt Claire smiled at Nick. “Show Tucker why we weren’t home,” she said.
He climbed out of the car, holding Joe in his arms. Coach came over and petted the cat. “Who is this?”
“This is Joe,” Nick said. “She’s our new cat.” He glanced over at Aunt Claire.
“Looks like you’re going to have more than one new cat pretty soon.” He touched Joe’s belly and smiled at Nick.
“Nick found her.” Aunt Claire came over and put her arm around his shoulders. “He’s been taking care of her in the woods for a few days.”
She actually sounded proud of him! Surprised, he studied her face. She was looking at Coach.
“Yeah?” Coach grinned at him. “I wondered why you took off from practice the last few days like your hair was on fire.”
Both Coach and Aunt Claire smiled at him, as if he’d done something cool. Nick squirmed, his ears burning. “I thought she was sick. I was worried about her.”
“Good job, Nick,” Coach said. Nick held Joe more tightly.
Coach petted her again. “Is it okay if I stop by again to see how she’s doing?”
Nick shrugged. “Sure.”
Coach turned to Aunt Claire. “You sure you’re all right?” He touched her side. “How are your ribs?”
“I’m fine,” she said.
Nick frowned as he watched the two adults look at each other. Something was going on. Aunt Claire had that sappy smile on her face again.
“See you at practice tomorrow, Nick,” he said as he swung into his truck.
Nick watched the truck disappear down the street, then turned to Aunt Claire. “What’s up with you and Coach?”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CLAIRE STARED at Nick, not sure what to say. She should have realized this was coming. Sooner or later, Nick was bound to realize that she and Tucker were…what? Flirting? Involved? In lust?
Please, God, don’t let him figure out that she and Tucker were sleeping together. She so did not know how to talk about sex with a teenage boy.
“I’m not sure yet what’s going on,” she said, opting for complete honesty. “I like him and he likes me.”
He gave her an uncertain look. “Are you going out with him?”
“We haven’t actually been on a date, no,” she hedged.
“Are you gonna go out with him?”
“Yes, I am.” She shoved her hands into the pockets of her shorts, suddenly nervous and self-conscious. “Do you have a problem with that?”
He shifted the cat in his arms. “I don’t know. I think it would be kind of weird.”
“I guess it could be.” She gave her nephew a strained smile and plucked at a loose string inside her pocket.
“If you go out with him, are you gonna make him go with you when you leave?” he demanded. “’Cause Coach likes it here. And the guys on the team would be mad if he wasn’t their coach anymore.”
“Coach Hall isn’t going anywhere,” she told him. “He’s staying in Monroe.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.” It was the one certainty in the whole situation. Tucker wasn’t about to leave Monroe.
“Then I guess it doesn’t matter, does it? If you go out with him, I mean. ’Cause you’re not going to be here that much longer.”
Nick clutched the cat more tightly and brushed past her to walk into the house.
Claire watched him go. Was that disappointment on his face? For the first time, she felt a pang of loss at the thought of leaving Monroe. For the first time, the thought of going back to Chicago didn’t fill her with yearning. It left her with the cold ashes of regret in her mouth.
LATE TUESDAY NIGHT of the next week, Claire rolled over on the couch, startled awake from an uneasy sleep while she waited for Nick. She glanced at her watch. He’d gone to the homecoming week bonfire at school, and he was late getting home.
She sat up, brushing her hair out of her eyes as she heard footsteps pounding through the kitchen.
“Aunt Claire! Aunt Claire, there’s a fire in the backyard.”
Nick’s voice.
“What?” She stumbled to her feet as Nick skidded to a stop in front of the couch. “A fire? In the backyard?”
“Get out of the house! I’m going to get some water.”
“I’ll call 9-1-1,” she said as she ran into the kitchen. She watched bright orange flames flicker in the window as she waited for someone to answer the phone.
Moments later, after giving the dispatcher her name and address, she ran out the door. The flames licked at the old wooden porch. If it caught fire, it would burn quickly.
And so would the house.
“Nick!” she called, frantic to find him.
“I’m trying to get the hose,
” he yelled, and she ran around the side of the house.
Nick tugged on the hose, but it refused to budge, twisted around the wheels of the cart that held it. She kicked the cart over and reached to untangle it. Nick staggered backward as it came loose, then recovered and yanked a length of it free. She turned on the water as he ran toward the fire.
Sirens grew louder, swelling to fill the air and drown out even the crackle of the flames. As Nick stood with the hose trained on the fire, three firefighters ran around the corner of the house, hauling a thick fire hose.
“Get back!” one of them yelled, waving to her and Nick. The firefighter turned a valve and water gushed on the fire, a thick stream that extinguished it in seconds. Gray smoke filled the air, making the yard look surreal and otherworldly.
As she and Nick stood to the side and watched, the firefighters examined the porch carefully to make sure it wasn’t smoldering, then spread out through the yard. One of them unbuckled his breathing apparatus and squatted next to the smoking pile of what looked like firewood.
“That looks like a pile of logs,” Claire said.
The firefighter didn’t answer. He stood up, kicked at the charred and blackened wood, then squatted in front of it again. Finally he stood up, a grim look on his face.
“Did you start this fire, young man?” he asked Nick.
“No!” Nick stared at him, and Claire saw the confusion in his eyes. “It was burning when I got home.”
“Is that right?” The firefighter narrowed his eyes as he watched Nick, obviously skeptical.
“Nick didn’t do this,” Claire said, putting her arm around her nephew’s shoulder.
“Someone started it. I can smell lighter fluid, and the scorch marks prove that an accelerant was used.”
“It wasn’t Nick. It’s ridiculous to even think he would start a fire in his own yard.”
The firefighter pushed his helmet to the back of his head and sighed. “Tonight was the bonfire at the high school,” he said. He glanced over at Nick. “Maybe your nephew thought it would be fun to have his own bonfire.”
Hometown Girl Page 17