Dog Sitters

by Rozsa Gaston

  "Max Weller."

  "Okay…."

  "Didn't they call you?"

  Roxy kept staring at the man as she crossed her arms over her pink t-shirt. Better not to let him see her shallow breathing. Didn't want to let on how he affected her.

  "By the blank look on your face, I see they didn't."

  "Look Mr. uh…Max. I'm busy. As you can see, I have a bunch of furry children here clamoring for my attention. And there's only so many seconds in a minute, you know? So, maybe you could tell me why you're in here with, um, Derek."

  Gorgeous Max ran his large hand through his short, dark hair. "Okay. The people at the juvenile detention center were supposed to call you a few days ago. My son, Derek, got himself into—shall we say, a little skirmish, and now he needs to do community service." He paused to look down at her. "They didn't call you, huh? Amazing. Our fine city officials, on the ball as usual."

  Roxy sighed. She pushed her chin-length hair behind her ears. "I see where this is going now. You want Derek to work here to help complete his community service, right? How old is he?"

  "He's eleven. Yes, if it works for you, it would be great if he could help out here. I'm sorry to spring this on you. I stupidly assumed they would have called you and everything would be set up already."

  Roxy glanced around. The thirty-six cats seemed to multiply before her eyes. Was it her imagination, or was the meowing getting louder? She definitely needed the help. For free. However, she had doubts about sullen, seemingly mute Derek. But what choice did she have? It would be stupid on her part to turn down any help. Besides, maybe Max would stick around to help supervise his son. Having him hang around wouldn't bother her. Not at all.

  She cleared her throat and focused on the son's problem instead of the dad's hunkiness. "Okay, Max," she said. "My name's Roxy Williams. I think we can help you out, so here's the deal. Derek would have to be here every morning at eight a.m. to feed the cats. Then he would let them out in stages so they could get some playtime. Afterward, he'd get the glamorous task of cleaning stinky litter boxes."

  Derek found his tongue. "Eight a.m. every day? No way. And clean up after cats? I hate cats. Uh-uh. Not gonna happen." He crossed his arms.

  Max frowned at his son. "Oh, yes it will. You'll do everything this nice lady tells you, and you'll do it without your usual moping, complaining, and sulking. Plus you'll be thankful you're getting to do this instead of spending your entire summer in juvenile detention. Is that clear, Derek?"

  The skinny boy mumbled something Roxy was sure was not for polite conversation. She raised her eyebrows.

  "Excuse me?" Max boomed.

  Derek jumped, and so did Roxy. "Yes, Dad," answered Derek, who still appeared sullen but seemed to have the smarts not to mumble again.

  Roxy glanced up at Max. It was all she could do to squelch a 'Yes, Dad' herself. The man certainly had a set of pipes. "Were you wanting him to start right away?"

  "If it's not a problem. And I'll make sure you get the paperwork from the detention center to keep track of his hours."

  "Sure. Fine. We've had a couple of other kids come through here for similar reasons. Glad to help." Roxy nodded, but still had serious doubts about Derek's willingness to do what he was told. This might end up being even more work for her if she had to spend a lot of time going over Derek's duties with him. And time was one commodity she did not have in abundance.

  Max thanked her and left. Roxy hated to see him go. But why? Maybe it had something to do with the fact she hadn't had a date with someone who wasn't a troll in over a year. Mr. Weller was the finest looking man she'd seen since…well, ever. With his dark hair and eyes, they could be one of those cute brother-sister looking couples. She'd only just met the man, yet she pictured herself leaping into his big, strong arms and planting a kiss on his luscious lips.

  She sighed. What had come over her? Her stupid hormones were going to get her in trouble.

  ****

  Max pulled his vehicle away from the curb. Leaving Derek at the shelter had been hard. A stabbing pain in his gut reminded him he now had dad-guilt to deal with. Poor Derek, he doesn't deserve this. Max had argued hard to get him out of community service, but the powers that be weren't budging an inch.

  Max loved his son so much. In fact, it almost pained him how much. If he'd gotten to spend more time with Derek over the past few years, he would have known the feeling sooner. Now, though, they were making up for lost time.

  He'd gone from being a bachelor having everything on his own terms, to being a single dad. Not that he would change that, of course. It thrilled him to spend time with his son, getting to know him better every day. Even little stuff, like what kind of cereal Derek liked or shopping for his school clothes, meant so much to Max. Sure, that stuff would fade into the background later, but right now it was still new. Still an adventure. Even though he'd fought like crazy to get custody of his son, he'd never dreamed how much he'd love the kid once they were together. It blew him away.

  He glanced out the window at two women pushing strollers. Roxy Williams seemed like a nice woman. Attractive, too, although that wasn't on Max's radar right now. Couldn't be. Not with Derek in the picture. His son came first, and that was how it had to be, whether Max liked it or not.

  ****

  After Max left, Roxy finished feeding the cats, then trudged to her office to do some paperwork. Teresa Lynn instructed Derek on his first task. Roxy had left the office door open, which was right across from the cat cages. Not to spy on them, just to make sure Derek didn't get into any trouble. She had a clear view of them from where she sat. When kids came for volunteer work or community service, she almost felt like a babysitter.

  "Okay Derek," said Teresa Lynn, "since Roxy already fed everyone, the next step is to let the cats out so they can stretch their legs. They get cramped in their cages and need some exercise. Plus it's good for them to socialize with us and the other cats so they don't feel so alone."

  She demonstrated how to unlatch the first cage and lifted the cat, a Russian Blue look-alike, out of the cage by grasping him under his armpits. Holding the cat close, she supported his feet with her hands until she set him on the floor. "You need to hold them for a minute to let them feel safe before you set them down. Otherwise, they get a little nervous and might dig their claws into your arm." She glanced down at Derek. "Okay, now you try the next one."

  The boy trembled. His face was pale and sweat gathered on his upper lip. Derek stared at the cage, then at Teresa Lynn. He didn't make a move toward the door latch, however, even though the white cat meowed and moved closer to the cage door, inviting Derek to let him out. Teresa Lynn cleared her throat.

  Roxy put down her paperwork and walked toward them. "How's it going?" she asked, although she knew by her assistant's expression and Derek's appearance it wasn't going great. And she'd been watching their progress from her office. Why did he look so scared? He'd been all attitude when he talked back to his dad.

  "Derek seems a little apprehensive, I think." She gave Roxy an I-don't-get-it shrug.

  Roxy watched her unwilling new helper. "So Derek, have you had any experience around cats?"

  Derek nodded. His too-long bangs flopped over his blue eyes. He stared at her with a wide-eyed expression which could only be described as fear.

  Uh-oh. Not good. "Oh. Well, why don't you tell us about…um…what happened between you and a cat? Maybe we can talk about it and help things along for you. Sound okay?"

  At first, it seemed as if Derek was mute again. Roxy and Teresa Lynn eyed each other over his head. After an uncomfortable minute or so, he finally said, "She threw a cat on me."

  Roxy blinked twice. "Excuse me?"

  Derek stared down at the floor as if in a trance and spoke almost in a whisper. The women had to lean closer to hear him. Roxy angled her head, her ear nearly touching his hair.

  "My mom. She threw a neighbor's cat on me when I was little. It scratched my face and arms bad. Scared me to death.
I haven't been near a cat since. Until now."

  Roxy stared at Teresa Lynn. She had raised eyebrows and her mouth wide open. Her own expression probably mirrored it. Teresa Lynn scurried with the gray cat back to her office. Once the cat was settled and the office door closed, she returned.

  Roxy was still trying to process what the boy had said. His own mother? Why in the world would someone do such an awful thing? To a child? She found her voice as she gently steered the boy away from the cages. "Derek, I'm so sorry. I'm sure it was awful for you. So your mom…."

  Derek glanced up. Some of the color had returned to his face. "She isn't a nice person. And did a lot of mean stuff to me. My whole life. I hated living with her. Dad's been trying to get custody for years. He finally did a few months ago. Then I screwed up by hitting Billy at school, but he made me mad. It makes me feel mad. A lot. So that's why I'm here."

  Roxy gazed at the boy with a softer heart. Poor kid. What mother could treat her child like dirt? Here the woman was lucky enough to have a son, and she treated him worse than something on the bottom of her tennis shoe. People should have to apply for licenses before being allowed to become a parent. She reached out her hand and touched his shoulder. "Listen, Derek, I see now this might not be the right place for you. Are you sure you'll be able to be around the cats?"

  The boy appeared close to tears, just as he had when he first showed up at the front door. "Those people at the place, you know, the ones who told me to come here, said there weren't any other places to put me right now. It was either this, or the detention center. And that would be even worse than this." He peered up at Roxy and grimaced. "Sorry."

  Roxy bit her bottom lip. "It's okay. Listen, we'll get through this, all right? I'm willing if you are. And besides, we could use the help, right, Teresa Lynn?"

  The assistant bobbed her blonde head. "Absolutely. We sure can. We'd love it if you could stay."

  "We'll start slow," said Roxy. "How about you clean out the litter pans first? Before you have to actually touch the cats. I know it's an icky job, but you can wear gloves. And we do it quickly. You'll have it down in no time. Ready to try?" She kept her voice upbeat, but still had her doubts it would work out. Who could blame the kid for being terrified of cats after what his mom had done?

  Derek didn't look convinced, but nodded anyway. The women dragged a huge sack of litter and a large trash bag from the storeroom. Roxy explained how to use the litter scoop to sift out the waste while leaving most of the litter in the pan. Then he would add new litter, as needed, using a small plastic shovel. He gave it a try. His first attempt was done with a scrunched-up expression, looking as if he'd swallowed curdled goat's milk laced with sauerkraut juice.

  Roxy did her best to hide her grin. It was a stinky job. "Good. See? Not so hard, huh?"

  "How many times do I have to do this?" He held up the white plastic scoop in his green-gloved hand.

  "Thirty-six times a day."

  He stared at her, his eyes round.

  "Seriously," she said. "There are thirty-six cats and each one gets changed once a day. Actually, some get it more often if they have a smelly…well, we won't go there just yet. And the number could change depending on cats who get adopted, and cats people drop off for us to take care of. So, since you've got the hang of it, go ahead and get started on the rest. Teresa Lynn and I will take the cats out first, and put them in what we call the mingle area. This way, you won't have to worry about touching the cats. Sound good?"

  Derek seemed dejected but resigned as he nodded.

  Roxy kept her eye on Derek. She didn't follow him around, but checked on him often. With each litter box he cleaned, the repugnant face he made was a little less intense. It was going to be a real challenge to find stuff for him to do all day without touching the cats. It was a cat shelter, after all.

  Roxy was relieved they'd all made it through the morning unscathed. And the cats seemed giddy to all be in the mingle room at the same time. The only other time it had happened was when there'd been a leak in the roof of the kennel area. What a nightmare. Cats didn't appreciate being wet. Not even a little. They'd given themselves and each other tongue-baths for two hours. At least this time, everyone stayed dry. And no one was in danger of spraining a tongue.

  Roxy did all the usual shelter stuff she did every day, but couldn't stop thinking about Max. Why did the thought of him tie her in knots? Beside the fact he was drool-worthy? He was handsome, sure, but so were a lot of men. Max wasn't just handsome, though. The man had a definite "something." Whatever it was got under her skin. She hoped she'd get a chance to know him better, so she could figure out just what the "something" was. She already knew the figuring out part would be fun.

  The bell chimed on the front door. Teresa Lynn and Roxy glanced up. Two adults and two small kids entered.

  "Hi," said Roxy. "What kind of cat can I help you find today?"

  "We're just looking," replied the tall, rangy, thirty-something man.

  "Certainly. Help yourself. The cats' cages are through the hallway." She pointed behind her.

  Roxy hated to hover, but didn't always trust little kids around the kittens. They never meant to squeeze them too tight, but often did. One terrible incident had her rushing a tiny kitten to the vet after a two-year-old boy had gotten hold of it and squeezed its middle. Hard. She'd heard a plaintive mew. She'd found the kitten lying on the floor, the toddler crying after his mom had whopped him on his diaper. The mother had then accused Roxy of leaving kittens just laying about for innocent kids to grab. If those were her thoughts, why did her child get punished? Thankfully, no major harm had come to the kitten. Although to this day he didn't like small children. Go figure.

  She idled in the doorway to the kennels, trying to be invisible. Too much attention might irritate the adults and they wouldn't come back.

  The little girl, no more than three, almost toppled over reaching into the kitten pen. Roxy grasped her hands together, willing herself to stay where she was, not to interfere. But it was hard. These were her babies.

  The woman swatted the toddler's bottom. "No. Don't reach in there. Just look."

  Roxy let out a breath. The kitten would live to mew another day.

  The girl cried, sniffling at first, then crescendoed to a high-pitched wail.

  Roxy grimaced. Poor kittens, unable to escape the auditory torture. She wished she could give them all some tiny earmuffs to ease the eardrum-splitting noise. They'd all have headaches tonight when she put them to bed.

  She backed out of the doorway a little, but didn't leave. Peeking around the doorframe, she watched them. The people kept standing there with their backs toward her, talking about something else. Not even looking at the cats. Then why are they here? Couldn't they see the adorable kittens on their hind legs at the side of the pen, trying to get their attention? And they were so cute. Fluffy and soft. Her first impulse was to race in there, scoop them all up, and snuggle with them. The cats, not the people.

  The boy, about seven, tugged on his dad's hand. "How much longer till the movie, Daddy?"

  She heard a pause. Was he checking his watch?

  "Another thirty minutes. Then we can leave."

  The little girl, now only sniffling again, almost shouted, "Can I have a kitty, Mommy?"

  "No!" snapped her mom.

  No? Then you people need to vacate. Now! You obviously aren't interested in what we have to offer. And you don't seem like you'd be good pet parents anyway.

  Roxy was just around the corner. They couldn't see her. But she heard every word. If they weren't interested in a cat, she wasn't going to just stand there while they wasted time, waiting for their movie to start at the nearby theatre. Those people could waste time somewhere else. This wasn't a train station, after all. She'd run across this before. And she wouldn't stand for it. Pasting a smile on her face, she rounded the corner.

  "Well, have you folks decided which one you'd like to take home today?"

  The shorthaired blonde w
oman appeared startled. Her husband frowned and said, "No. As I said before, we're just looking."

  Roxy wasn't deterred. "But we're having a special today. Buy one get one free. You could go home today with two cats." She clapped her hands. "Sound like fun?"

  He shook his head. "No. Thank you."

  She stepped closer to them. "I'll even throw in some free litter and cat food." Raising her eyebrows, she stared at them.

  The man lowered his eyebrows. He shook his head again.

  "How about a lifetime supply of hairball ointment? Can never have too much, right? 'Cause cats do tend to upchuck when they over-groom. All over the house. It's not much fun to step in one of those piles, especially in bare feet. Squishing between your toes." They should be running for the door any minute now.

  The man's face reddened. He grabbed hold of his son's hand, eyed his wife until she picked up their daughter, and stormed past Roxy. She stayed where she was until she heard the front door open and slam shut. She giggled. They had no idea how long she'd been in this business. And had no idea who they'd gone up against. Amateurs.

  Come back real soon. Not!

  ****

  Derek stood in a corner, just out of sight of Roxy. What was she doing? Spying on those people? After she'd talked to them, they'd almost run out of the building. Man, she must really like those cats. He didn't get it. How could anyone want to be around them all the time? If he had a choice, he sure wouldn't. Any other way out besides detention and he'd be all over it. Just the thought of touching one of them made him shake. Those teeth, those claws. Ripping his skin, making him hurt and bleed. Shivers rippled down his spine, and all the hair on his arms stood up. Grabbing his stomach, he breathed in through his nose. Oh man, don't lose it now! Don't get sick. It made him feel stupid how he'd acted around that cat. And in front of Roxy and Teresa Lynn. They probably thought he was so lame.

  Man, how was he gonna do this? Sweat beaded on his forehead. Derek sighed. He had to do it, though. He'd screwed up and there was no getting out of it. If only it wasn't the thing he hated most. Being here would make his nightmares even worse. He wished his dad could hang around and be there with him. Maybe that would help a little.