by Lissa Kasey
Nate took a deep breath, reminding himself these were just cupcakes. He did the first scoop just like Angel had. His didn’t look as neat as hers, but the cup was full and he’d wasted very little batter.
“Looks great. You okay on your own for a bit? I’m going to get a rolling shelf for you to put your trays on.”
“Okay,” Nate agreed again. He could do this. He began filling cups, and turned the tray for better access. By the time he was finished with the first one, Angel had set a large rolling shelf beside him. She picked up his first tin and put it on the top rack, then stepped to the other side of the narrow table and began to mirror him. It took Nate a minute or two and a lot of self-talk to focus on his work and not hers. He hadn’t been doing this for who knew how many years. Of course he was slower than her. It wasn’t a race.
When his batter bowl got low, someone came and took it, replacing it with a new one. Nate found his rhythm somewhere after the fifth pan. The place began to smell like sugar, cake, and the delicious scent of fresh buttercream. His mouth watered. But he couldn’t eat this stuff. Allergies, he reminded himself.
When Angel asked him if he wanted to switch, he said no. He was in his groove and no one bothered him. It had been years since he’d done menial work with his hands instead of his brain. Muscle memory. Not having to converse with anyone meant he could just focus on the cupcakes.
Each time his brain started to wander he would bring it back, count to ten, focus on the cakes. He had almost gotten the entire process down to a mirror of Angel’s fast, efficient, and clean. Angel moved on and Troy replaced her. He threw Nate a huge grin. “Cupcake monster,” Troy said, pretending to eat the first tin he had yet to grease.
Nate laughed, but didn’t try to start a conversation. The process went fast. By the time his first set of trays was complete and gone, another was given to him. He must have cleared the whole table a dozen times before there just seemed to be no more batter or empty trays.
Troy had rows of cupcakes lined up, putting them in little lace cups on a spinning round platter, and frosting it like a pro. Nate didn’t even want to try that. It looked very complicated.
“Um…” He glanced down the table. Was everything baked?
“Want to help decorate?” Troy asked.
“I’m absolutely sure I can’t do what you’re doing there.”
Troy grinned. “I’ve got a bit of practice at this. But you can put the candy bits on as I finish. Then we can box them up faster.” He tapped a piece of paper that sat next to his set of frosting supplies and a couple large boxes of shapes. “Diagram is right here. You just have to put the chocolate shapes on.”
Nate walked around the table to examine the picture. There was a full color of the cupcake, which would apparently be varying shades of the rainbow in frosting colors, and the little white-chocolate, entwined hearts sat on the top like the tower, with two little green leaves beside it. And glitter. Iridescent glitter. Who put glitter on a cupcake?
“Shake the glitter on first. Careful ‘cause that shit gets everywhere, then the hearts in the middle and leaves beside it.” Troy picked up a small shaker, there were a dozen others right next to it, shook it over the cupcake, dusting it with a fine sheen. “Careful not to breathe too hard with the glitter,” Troy instructed. He placed the hearts in the center and the leaves on each side, making the hearts look like a bit of a flower. “Make sense?”
Nate nodded. He took the shaker and did the next cupcake. The decorating was easy. He did three before he accidentally let out a long sigh which sent glitter everywhere. “Shit. Sorry!”
Troy waved him off. “No worries. Just keep going. We have thousands of these buggers to do.”
Another train formed. Troy and Angel frosting, Nate and someone he didn’t know decorating, and four people boxing. The time flew by and before he knew it, they were done. Troy picked up a cupcake and stuffed half of it in his mouth.
Nate gaped at him.
“It’s okay,” Troy said, mouth full. “There’s always extra.”
The last of the boxes were taken out a door and put in a van. It looked like everyone was taking a handful of cupcakes. Nate checked the time on his phone; he couldn’t believe it was almost nine. No texts from Jamie either.
“Everyone’s taking some cupcakes home, but I can grab you some of the special pastries left from earlier in the day, if you want,” Angel told Nate as she came back in from filling the truck.
“No, thank you. But maybe I can bring a cupcake home for Jamie?”
“Of course. Let me get you a takeout container.” Angel disappeared back into the shop part of the bakery.
“Don’t suppose you’ll let me buy you a drink?” Troy asked Nate, licking leftover frosting off his fingers.
“I don’t drink, but thank you,” Nate said.
“How about coffee? Or an herbal tea? Do I have to be more obvious about asking you out?”
Nate smiled. It had been a long time since someone had flirted with him. But he was tired and worried about Jamie and the cats. In reality, he’d rather spend more time with Jamie than date. “Raincheck?”
Troy nodded. “Sure. You know where to find me.”
Angel returned with the box and packed up Nate’s cupcake. She also handed him a business card with her name and number on it. “If you want to start picking up some shifts, give me a call.”
“Thank you,” Nate told her, feeling genuinely grateful she’d given him a chance. He hadn’t messed up horribly and had gotten through a whole shift without becoming a panicked wreck. That had to be progress, right?
The drive home passed in a blur of growing worry. Was Jamie okay? Were they okay? Was Jamie blaming Nate for Tuck’s illness? Could Nate be responsible? No, he couldn’t give the cat cancer, but maybe the stress of new cats in the house had worsened his condition? But Tuck had survived an animal fighting ring, isn’t that what Jamie had mentioned a while back?
He wondered how anyone fought cats. They were contrary in nature and just didn’t do what anyone wanted. Maybe they were bait for dogs? Nate winced at the idea. He didn’t want to know. No matter how much his OCD kicked in and said if he knew he could…could what? He couldn’t save them all any more than he could save all the old cats dropped off at shelters for being too old.
Nate parked beside Jamie’s truck and made his way inside, boxed cupcake in his grip. He’d expected Jamie to be up watching the news, but the lower level was dark and empty.
He made his way upstairs to his room, expecting to greet his cats, only it was empty. “Huh.” Were they all with Jamie, or had he missed them downstairs somewhere? Not even a sign from AJ.
He kicked off his shoes and changed into his pajamas, tired physically and mentally. Then he grabbed the cupcake and headed to Jamie’s room, hoping a peace offering of sugar would gain him any favor he might have lost.
Jamie lay in bed, reading a book, with Leo and Tuck on his chest. The rest of the cats were sprawled casually around him as if pretending they didn’t care if he were in the same room as them, while failing miserably. Ember and Ash used each other as pillows at the end of the bed, little paws stretched out as though to keep Jamie in place. AJ curled herself around Jamie’s arm. And Riley perched on the top of Jamie’s bookcase like a loaf of burnt bread. His head was down and eyes closed, but he faced in Jamie’s direction.
“That’s some talent,” Nate remarked at how Jamie had to twist to hold up his book reader without disturbing any of the cats.
Jamie quirked a grin, which eased some of the anxiety that had been gripping Nate’s heart all day. “Right? I came in here to read with Tuck and suddenly I’m the cat wrangler.”
“How’s he doing?”
“Tuck?” Jamie asked.
Nate nodded.
“Okay, I think. He ate. I fed them all. He’s been drooling like mad though.” Jamie pointed to the hand towel he had sprawled under Tuck.
“Gross,” Nate said. “Even while still being adorable. How can
a pirate looking cat be so adorable?” Tuck looked his way and did the long slow blink with his one eye. “Right back at you, baby boy.”
Jamie scratched Tuck’s ears which set off the cat’s chainsaw motor. Leo leaned in for scratches too.
Nate crossed the room and held out the cupcake. “I brought a peace offering.”
“For what? Not that I would ever turn down a cupcake.”
“Just thought you might be mad at me or upset or something, and I couldn’t think of another way to help. I’ve always sort of used food as comfort. I guess that’s why I spent most of my life fat.”
“Not mad at you. More at myself.” Jamie took the cupcake and set it on the bedside table. “Feeling like a failure.”
“Why?” Nate frowned at his friend.
“Because I can’t save him from this. It’s my job to protect him.”
“And you are. You’re doing what you can to give him the best quality of life he can have. But, Jamie, you know they don’t live forever. It’s one of the hardest parts of loving them. Knowing we outlast them.” He ran a hand down Leo’s back. “I think I read a meme recently that made me smile. It said we must seem like magical elves to our pets. They live their lives and we barely age around them.”
Jamie’s smile was a little watery. “I’ve lost pets before.”
“Pets? Or rehab animals? Because I think you try to keep them separated so it doesn’t hurt as much. And there’s nothing wrong with that. However, these fur babies,” Nate leaned over and gave AJ a kiss on her little head, “have a way of crawling in your heart to stay.”
“He hasn’t been with me that long. I shouldn’t be this attached.”
“Don’t ‘should’ on yourself,” Nate said. “They told me that all the time in therapy. ‘Shoulding’ on yourself sets goals that you can’t attain and then results in the feeling of failure. You can’t change the past. The future hasn’t happened yet, all you really have is right now. Should you do things? Sure there are a lot of things people should do. But what can you do? You can love him and provide the best life possible in the time he has left. Wishing you didn’t love him as much is not fair to you or him.”
Jamie frowned. “I just worry I’m not doing the right thing. If he has cancer, should I continue to let him suffer because I’m not ready to let him go yet?”
“You don’t know that he’s suffering yet. And who’s to say what’s right or wrong? Love doesn’t believe in those types of boundaries. And pets are really the truest form of unconditional love. Riley came from the streets, fed by the rare stranger. He’s still standoffish at times, but I know he adores me as much as I adore him. And look at what you rescued Tuck and the twins from? Would most people be able to tell? I sure can’t. Those cats adore you.”
Nate rubbed AJ’s chin. She closed her eyes while tilting her head up toward him, the expression on her face the look of Zen contentment.
“Like that cat adores you? You are her sun and moon.”
“Yeah, and it’s going to hurt to lose her someday. I think about it all the time with all my babies. They are all chronically sick. Even Riley has horrible arthritis, and he’s barely ten. Leo…I’ve had him forever.” Nate rubbed his ancient boy. “Did you know the oldest cat on record was thirty-eight? I’d love to have that kind of time from Leo, but won’t ask him to stay that long.”
“Tuck’s not ready yet,” Jamie said, though he really meant he wasn’t ready yet, Nate knew.
“No, and that’s okay. We’ll keep him happy as long as we can. Quality of life is important. He’s eating and tutting around.” Nate leaned in close to Jamie to give him a half hug without disturbing the cats. “But he’s still here, so let’s not mourn him yet. How about we celebrate him? Whatever food he wants, he gets. Pets? Done. Treats? Yep. Naps in the sun, of course.”
Jamie let out a long sigh, some of the tension easing away. “Okay. I can spoil him.”
“You already do. With all your animals. You know that right? Harry is the most spoiled thing I’ve ever seen. A goat who runs around town eating everyone’s flowers and demanding cuddles. Who does that?”
Jamie laughed, “But he’s super cute.”
“And spoiled. That’s okay.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Jamie patted the bed beside him. “Get in, you know you’re not sleeping in the big empty catless, bed tonight.”
Nate crawled in beside Jamie. AJ transferred her weight from Jamie to him. Nate gave her the scritches she loved. “Hey, beautiful girl.”
“Never thought of myself as a cat man.”
“Have you grown pointy ears and a tail since I left?” Nate wanted to know and pretended to check his head for cat ears.
“Smart-ass,” Jamie chuckled. They both laughed for a minute. “See, you haven’t lost your sense of humor. Now tell me about work.”
And Nate did.
“You shouldn’t date Troy,” Jamie threw out there.
“Why? He seems nice.”
“He’s a player,” Jamie said. “Always with someone new.”
Nate wondered how that was possible. There couldn’t be that many gay men on the island. “I’m not ready for that anyway. Most people don’t want to date someone crazy, and if he’s just looking for sex…there’s too much in my head to even think about going there right now. I’m broken…”
“Bruised a little, but not broken,” Jamie said. “You’re getting better. I hope you see that. Even the short time you’ve been here, I’ve seen the change. The day you arrived you had panic attacks. They were daily, sometimes multiple times in a day. When was the last time you had one?”
Nate thought about it. “The night of the camping trip.”
“Which was triggered by extraneous events, not just the random stuff that comes up in your head. And that is amazing. You get that, right?”
“I guess.”
“No guessing. You’re healing. It’s not a race. Just an eventual destination.”
Nate frowned. Was that true? He’d been sick so long he’d lost hope in ever being normal again. Except he’d felt normal every day. Maybe not all day, but for a while at least each day. His depression still welled up and walloped him sometimes, but the intensity had faded. “Maybe I really am healing.”
“No maybe about it.”
Chapter 20
The next two weeks went by with Nate forcing himself to follow a routine. In therapy he’d been taught that structure helped the brain when it struggled. Mornings were bad, but not as bad as they’d been when he had lived alone. He got up when Jamie did, made breakfast, cleaned after Jamie left, spent a few hours outside working on his book folder and playing with the dogs or Harry.
Afternoons were walks with Harry into town, where everyone greeted them and Nate avoided the hardware store. He’d taken his first regular shift at the bakery, starting early in the morning, making dough. It had been stressful, the change, learning new things, and being around people he didn’t know. But it had also been easy. Repetition would erase the rest of the worry, he thought with hope.
Tuck seemed to be doing well. He was eating enough to put on a tiny bit of weight, and still getting around well. However the tumor was growing, and in fact felt like three marbles stuck together instead of one. They’d gotten the news back a few days after the test. Positive for cancer. Both Jamie and Nate had shared a cry over Tuck, vowing to give the cat all the love and attention they could in his time left. Tuck didn’t seem to mind all the extra attention he was getting. Nor the food. He loved fresh tuna and chicken. The human-grade stuff, none of that pet crap. He sniffed his nose at anything pet “grade” and had even gone so far as to steal bacon from Jamie’s plate.
Nate took a lot of pictures. His plan was to compile a heap of them to create a memory book for Jamie after Tuck was gone. For both of them really because Nate couldn’t deny that grumpy little pirate cat had worked his way into Nate’s heart.
By the second weekend his routine was pretty set. H
is Friday began normally, starting at the bakery and coming home to walk Harry. Only then everything got a little weird. Starting with the fact that the goat was missing from the backyard.
Mattie and the dogs ran around as usual and Nate panicked at the idea of Harry getting out and being lost. Jamie’s last two dogs were on the verge of being adopted. They were just waiting for the background check paperwork to clear. Jamie took a lot of care in choosing adopters for his oldest two dogs. Nate had met both families and approved of what he’d seen. The interaction and trust couldn’t be faked. He hoped they were as good of people as they appeared, but had to admit he was going to be a little sad about seeing the two old mutts leave.
Jamie said it happened sometimes. He’d have a few weeks without any dogs and then get a new one in that needed major rescuing, or even a half dozen. Each time he grieved them a little when they left, but took joy in them getting forever homes.
With them focusing so much on Tuck right now, Jamie didn’t have a lot of extra time for the dogs anyway. Nate knew Jamie felt bad for not spending more time with Tuck, so Nate made up for it by cuddling the cat whenever he could. He planned to do exactly that after he found the missing goat.
Nate searched the barn and even the closest area outside the gate. He was so worried he considered calling Jamie home from work until he walked back through the gate to hear Harry’s familiar wail coming from above him.
Nate looked up. Harry perched on the edge of the highest part of the roof looking down at Nate, with a joyous grin, like it was all some game. “Oh my God,” Nate said. “How the hell did you get up there?”
He couldn’t see a way up and paced back and forth trying to get a better view. Could Harry get down on his own, or would Nate have to climb up there somehow? Holy shit, what if he fell?
