by Lissa Kasey
Nate breathed a sigh of relief. No one was hurt that they could tell and everyone was on high alert watching for these vandals. He wished Jamie’s stuff hadn’t been damaged in the process. But none of this explained Jamie’s puffy red eyes. Jamie glanced down at Tuck, then grabbed a tissue off the table beside him and wiped drool off Tuck’s jaw. Tuck drooled a lot. Nate had noticed that right away. He’d never seen a cat drool like a Saint Bernard, but it sure seemed that way when the old brat would sit on him and drip the viscous stuff all over Nate.
“What’s wrong, Jamie?” Nate asked again. “I see your red eyes, know you’ve been crying, and my brain goes in a thousand directions. It’s all centered around me having done something wrong, though logically I know that the world doesn’t revolve around me. But I can’t stop worrying about how I’ve messed up something in your life and made you cry. Like: You hate me. You want me out. The argument I had with the guy at the hardware shop has already made the town turn against you. Everyone knows you took in the crazy queer so now you’re being shunned…” He paused. “I could go on forever.”
“You got into an argument with Hank?”
Nate shrugged. “Not really. He was just spouting homophobic shit and I lashed back.”
A smile tugged at the corners of Jamie’s lips. “He’s always been a bit of a prick. Thankfully, I don’t have to deal with him much anymore.”
“Why would you have to deal with him at all? He’s just the hardware shop guy. You could get your stuff from online. And it doesn’t sound like he has a problem with you. Just us pansies.” Nate emphasized the word Hank the Hardware Jerk had used for him.
“He’s Dana’s dad,” Jamie said. “He’s never much liked me.”
Nate’s jaw dropped. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. He’s always been pissed that his mom left Dana the house in her will.” He motioned to the house around them. “And then Dana left it to me. We’d have never been able to afford it if we had to buy it. The land is worth a fortune. Her dad offered to buy it from me after she passed. But Dana loved the space, and it works great for the animals. I could sell outright and make a small fortune off the house and land, but why do that when I have everything I need and no mortgage?”
“Wow. You think you know a guy.”
Jamie’s smile was tight. “Yeah, so maybe stop worrying so much about me paying the bills, yeah? There is no mortgage and the last of the renovation loans is almost paid off. I don’t have a car payment because I use the work truck for everything. Just the critters and utilities to pay for. And taxes on the house, but I get a discount on that because I’m a widower.”
Nate was floored. “So you’re saying you’re rich?”
“No. I’m saying I’m comfortable.”
Oddly, that was a big weight off Nate’s shoulders. He thought coming in and contributing just a few hundred a month to his friend was just going to add more of a burden. They’d argued about the sum in the car on the way, agreeing on a tiny amount that made Nate feel bad about not contributing more.
But Jamie still hadn’t answered his question. “What’s wrong? I don’t see you crying over torn-up camp gear, though that sucks.”
Jamie sighed. “Jen checked on all the animals while we were gone.”
Nate nodded.
“I have to take Tuck to the vet tomorrow.”
Nate’s heart skipped a beat. He’d only known the little monster for a few days. Snuggled with him a handful of times and marveled at how well the cat got around while missing a leg and an eye. “What’s wrong with Tuck?”
“He’s got a growth on his jaw,” Jamie said. He seemed to be rubbing Tuck’s jaw with his hand. “It’s in the back, on the bottom of his jaw.”
Nate reached out to find the spot. Tuck leaned into their touches, even when Nate found the lump. It was huge. Bigger than a marble, round and at the edge there seemed to be another tiny one forming. He suddenly felt like he’d been punched in the gut. He met Jamie’s intense gaze and knew without asking, but did anyway, “Cancer?”
“It’s likely. Mouth cancer is very common in older cats. They will do a biopsy tomorrow to test.”
Nate’s mind raced through all the random health facts he knew sadly, most were about people rather than cats. Was there a way to save Tuck? Would the clinic just tell them to put him down before the disease spread? Could it be anything else? “What do we do?” he whispered.
“The same thing we would do if he didn’t have cancer. Love him. Snuggle him. We’ll make him comfortable for as long as we can.” Jamie sniffed back tears. “He’s not young, but I thought I’d have him longer, you know? He had a hard life. Probably lived through things I could only think of in my worst nightmares. I wanted to give him more time to know what it felt like to be loved.”
“Can we do chemo or something?” Nate wanted to know. He knew it worked for some people and some animals. He’d heard about it on the news. He also knew it was akin to putting toxic sludge into someone’s body and killing enough cells to hopefully kill the cancer without killing the patient.
“Once the results are back from the biopsy we’ll know more. But it’s unlikely. They’d have to remove a good portion of his jaw and then blast him with chemo. The vet will give us an idea of probability. But I don’t think it’s good. Mouth cancer takes a lot of old cats, though it will be my first. I didn’t used to rescue a lot of cats. Mostly just dogs. Hadn’t had a cat before Tuck since I was a kid.” He let out a long shaky sigh. “His drooling is part of the cancer. He’s been doing it for a while. I didn’t notice. Tilting his head to that side too. If I had noticed sooner…”
Nate practically crawled into Jamie’s lap to hug him and Tuck at the same time. “You couldn’t have known, Jamie. They don’t show pain or discomfort the same way people do.”
Jamie buried his face in Nate’s neck and Nate could feel his tears, warm on his skin. Tuck didn’t seem bothered at all, and instead just soaked up the snuggles he was getting.
“We should eat,” Jamie said after a few minutes. He sniffled and pulled back. “Thanks for grabbing dinner. I just had so much going on today.”
Nate’s appetite was gone. He stared at Tuck and felt the weight of grief in his chest. “I’m not very hungry.”
“But we should still eat,” Jamie said. He got up, picking up Tuck and putting the cat up over his shoulder like he was some fancy scarf. Tuck’s purrs were loud and his tail whipped about with happiness. The cat was so alive and alert. It was painful to think that he was also dying. Jamie tugged Nate up. “Food, then I think we could both use some rest.”
“He’s so alive,” Nate whispered as he watched Tuck looking around the room from his high vantage point on Jamie’s shoulder.
“For now. He’s not gone yet,” Jamie said. “We’ll celebrate him while we have him and grieve him when he’s gone.” He paused and took a deep breath. “Knowing won’t make it easier.”
Nate swallowed hard. Was Jamie thinking of Dana? He couldn’t imagine how hard it was to lose a spouse. He’d only lost one cat in his whole life and he’d been a teen when it happened. Losing Leo, AJ, or Riley right now would break him. Though he knew Leo was old. “Did she check my cats too?” What if Leo had cancer and they didn’t know it?
“She did. She said they all looked in pretty good shape, but AJ needs us to be cleaning her ears regularly. She left some cleaning solution and instructions. I’ve cleaned plenty of dog ears. It can’t be that hard.” Jamie took the salads to the kitchen and plated them. They looked good, though Jamie took a few things off Nate’s plate and put them aside. “The dressing is on your okay list, and I took the stuff off that isn’t. You should eat. At least the chicken and some of the greens.”
Nate nodded and took his plate to the table. Jamie did the same with his, then put Tuck in his lap before sitting down. The grief wasn’t gone from his face, but resolve had arrived. Nate knew the feeling. He planned to spoil Tuck for as long as he had left.
; Chapter 18
Nate wound up in Jamie’s bed again with all the cats. It was a good thing Jamie had a king-size bed. Nate had begun in his own, but had woken after a short nap of a nightmare in which they’d taken the cats camping only to have people kidnap them. His rational mind couldn’t make sense of why they would have taken the cats camping, but dreams didn’t have to be rational.
He hadn’t fallen back to sleep until all the cats were on Jamie’s bed with him, curled around them, on top of them, and snoozing. Then Nate slept hard.
He’d arisen with Jamie, racing to his own room to get ready for the day even though he didn’t know the full schedule. Was Jamie working? What time was Tuck’s appointment? Should Nate call and bring his cats in just in case? Did he have time for a bath?
Nate showered instead, taking a few extra moments to breathe in some lavender oil and slather on some of the magnesium lotion. Then he cleaned their boxes and AJ’s ears.
For some reason all the cats followed him around. When he exited the bathroom, Tuck sat on his bed looking at Leo like he wanted to use him as a pillow. He was going to be so mad when he got shoved in a crate and driven to the vet. Tuck was one badass tom when he wanted to be.
Riley sat on his shelf, looking bored but tail flicking with agitation. Nate wondered where the twin terrors had gone. He could have sworn he heard their mad rush of zoomies as they raced from one end of the house to the other like elephants instead of small cats, while he was putting on lotion. Maybe they’d raced past Riley and ticked him off. Or maybe he was just being his morning prickly self.
Nate dressed and was almost ready to leave by the time Jamie appeared in the doorway. “What time is the appointment for Tuck?” Nate asked. “Are you working? Do you need me to take him so you don’t miss work? Do you want me to come along?” He really wanted to go, if only to protect Tuck and Jamie from heartbreaking news.
“Yes, I’d like you to come. We’ll be leaving in a few minutes. I thought I’d go to work after the appointment. They won’t have results back today, but I suspect we’ll start with a round of steroids. He hasn’t been eating much.” He frowned and looked at Tuck. “I thought he might have a tooth issue. Which would cause the drooling, but his teeth are fine. Had two pulled when I first got him and cleaned the whole lot, which he wasn’t happy about, but he’d been eating fine.” He shrugged. “When you moved down and he stopped eating much, I thought it was the stress of the new cats in the house. But it could also have been going on for a while and I was working too much to notice. Ember and Ash eat up whatever he doesn’t.”
Was Tuck thinner than he’d been when Nate arrived? He wasn’t a big cat to begin with. Not like AJ or even Riley. But he also wasn’t as small as Leo. Leo was nothing but fur and bones. Nate tried to recall how old Tuck was. Thirteen or fourteen maybe? Not horribly old. Leo was twenty, which Nate knew was almost unheard of in cats. But anything over seven was senior in cats.
“It will be fine,” Jamie said, though he didn’t look as sure as he had a few days ago. “Tuck’s a trooper. He’s been through a lot and come out swinging.”
And now probably had cancer. It was so unfair. Nate stepped into his shoes then scooped up Tuck who meowed at him for a moment before settling in his arms. He did like to be held.
“His carrier is in the truck. We won’t need it until we get to the clinic,” Jamie said. “Tuck likes car rides. He loves to sit in the sun and walk back and forth between the seats. He’s pretty noisy too. Making growls and grumbles about the movement of the car. It’s funny once you realize he’s not distressed, just grumpy.”
“You’re an adorable grumpy baby, aren’t you?” Nate kissed the top of Tuck’s head and followed Jamie down to the truck. He wasn’t looking forward to the stress of the day, but didn’t want to be anywhere else.
“Crap,” Nate said, suddenly remembering his promise to Angel yesterday. Jamie helped him into the truck and closed the door before getting in on his own side. Tuck stayed still until everyone was settled, then appeared to be contemplating Jamie’s lap. “I work at the bakery tonight.”
Jamie frowned. “I thought we agreed you weren’t ready for that yet?”
“It’s just mixing cupcakes. No retail stuff. I guess they have a big order and need hands getting everything done. It’s supposed to be four to nine. I can call her and cancel.” Which would be another black mark against him.
“No. It’s fine. We’ll be done at the vet long before then. Tuck will be home with the other kitties, and I should be home from work by then.”
Nate didn’t mention his fear about the veterinarian telling Jamie that Tuck would need to go today. He’d had several nightmares about it, enough to wake him a few times and reach out for the cat. Jamie probably felt it a thousand times worse since he’d had the cat for a while. A year or so? Maybe two? Nate couldn’t remember exactly.
They arrived at the clinic and headed inside. The tech at the counter sent them back to a room immediately. Nate’s gut clenched. He hated anything to do with hospitals now. The sterile environment brought back horrific memories from the past two years, even though they weren’t here for him.
He concentrated on his breathing, let Tuck out of the kennel they’d shoved him into when they’d arrived at the clinic, and cuddled with him. He focused on Tuck’s soft fur and chainsaw motor purr. Tuck was a long-haired cat colored in dark gray stripes. If he sat a certain way, he looked a bit like a little gray lion, mane fluffed out around him, and regal as shit. The missing eye gave him that old English gentleman look. Like he should have been sporting an eyepatch and a cane. The cat seemed to compensate well for the loss in depth perception since he jumped fine and didn’t seem to run into anything. He also didn’t race around the house with the zoomies like the babies did.
Techs came and went. One took Tuck’s weight, but mostly they were left alone to wait for the doctor. Tuck perched like a loaf of bread on Nate’s lap after being picked up again when he’d tried to follow the tech out the door. His tail twitched with some irritation.
Jamie’s left leg bounced with nervousness. Nate reached out and put a hand on Jamie’s thigh, hoping human touch would calm him a little. Tuck took that as the sign that he should be taking turns going from one lap to the other, getting scratches.
When the doctor came in and explained the biopsy procedure, Nate listened attentively. Dr. Warren was a tall man with white-gray hair in an array of long shoulder-length curls. His eyes were kind, but sad as he explained the risks. There were possibilities other than cancer: bone infection, benign tumors, or an abscess. More likely it was cancer. Dr. Warren sat on the floor beside them and petted Tuck for a minute or two.
“I try to be up-front with my clients. Whatever we find, will not be good. It won’t be something just antibiotics can fix. Tuck’s age is a factor. We’ll be testing his liver functions too, but at this stage, whatever the growth is won’t be a comfortable fix. In a two-year-old cat we’ve seen part of the jaw removed and them survive. I’m not sure they thrived though. Even before we know what this is, and the results won’t be back for a few days after the biopsy, we will be thinking about quality of life and pain management.”
“He doesn’t seem to be in pain now,” Jamie said.
Nate tried to think of anything that Tuck did that would indicate he was in pain. He didn’t let out any of those horrible painful yowls Nate had heard from his own cats when they had a bladder infection or something. The only odd thing he did was, “He insists on looking in the open freezer. Sits there, like the cold feels good, but then comes to find us because his feet are cold.” Nate had opened the freezer a few times a day for the cat, not really thinking about it as anything other than the odd quirk of Jamie’s already peculiar cat. “Has he always done that?” Nate asked Jamie.
Jamie’s jaw tightened. “Only for the last few months. I thought he was just getting old. Thinking maybe his temperature regulation was off.”
“And that could be part of it. They don’t sh
ow us their pain. Not unless it’s really severe,” the doctor replied. “Not in large ways. His tilting of his head is likely a way to ease the pain. The drooling is part of the lump pressing against his throat. He could have been seeking out the freezer because it felt good on his face or because his temperature is off. Cancer causes that too. Temperature deregulation.” He let out a long breath. “Eventually the growth will get so big he won’t be able to swallow. Maybe not even breathe.”
Nate gulped and thought about the fur baby in his arm progressing to that.
“But we don’t know it’s really that,” Jamie insisted.
“No,” Dr. Warren said. “But again, based on the location, the shape, and the indication that another is forming? It’s pretty likely. An abscess we can try to treat with heat and antibiotics. We’ll give him a shot today and some steroids. He’ll probably feel pretty good for a while…” The doctor left unsaid that the steroids would only work for so long.
“Is there anything else we can do for him?” Nate asked.
“Soft foods, pets, make sure he’s drinking and using the litter box. Give him love.” The doctor gave Tuck one more scratch before getting up. “Let me take him for the test now.”
Nate thought of a half dozen things to research when they got home, his medical OCD in full swing. He had a thousand questions but couldn’t voice them out loud for fear of sounding stupid. He handed Tuck over to the doctor and watched the man take Tuck away. Nate felt the burning weight of anxiety increasing in his chest.
