by Sandra Marie
“What in the…?” A laugh overtook her sentence. A giant stuffed poop emoji sat in her parents’ living room, a heart balloon tied around the top of its head.
“Who in the world gave you that?” she asked her mom through a laugh.
“It’s for you.” Mom plucked a card that was taped to the poop’s midsection, right under the big adorable eyes. Rae’s name in Tommy’s handwriting shone in pink ink on the envelope.
She shook her head. The card inside was just as ridiculous, decked with the emoji in all colors.
“What’s it say?” Mom asked, almost as if this giant poop was going to stop her baby from moving to Vegas.
Rae handed it over, letting her mom read the small sentiment her best friend had written.
As requested, the crapstorm of romance has begun.
A picture dinged on Tommy’s phone as a bunny hissed at him from the corner of its cage. The minute he could, he’d scheduled a time to meet up with Steven and Ginny at their house where they hosted a few foster animals. The bunny was definitely not on the top of his lists for a gift.
He backed away from the bunny and clicked on the photo. A smile pulled at the corner of his mouth, his eyes scanning over Rae in her signature holey jeans sitting on top of the giant poop he’d sent to her parents’ house. He felt safer mailing it there than her place; Rae was rarely home and her side of town wasn’t too awesome. He couldn’t risk someone stealing the epic present.
“Um… did you want to meet Rodger?” the girl with the long brown and pink hair asked. The last time Tommy had seen her, she’d donned turquoise hair, but maybe she’d changed it for the holiday.
Ginny smiled when he met her eyes, and she looked lovingly at the demon bunny hissing away in his cage.
“Yeah, that’s gonna be a hard pass,” He turned to face the other side of the backyard. Three pups panted and played around in the wet the grass. Two labs and a Pomeranian. “Are any of them up for adoption?”
Ginny tilted her head and frowned. “Sorry, we aren’t hosting any dogs at the house right now. Those three are mine and Steven’s.”
“Just as well. I don’t think Rae is up for something too high maintenance.” He stifled a laugh at just the thought of Rae with a dog in her face all the time. It’d be like having a pet version of himself around twenty-four-seven.
Ginny tucked a few pink strands behind her ear, the wind blowing both of their hair every which way. “I think I have a guy for you to think about. Hang on.”
Ginny ducked inside, and Tommy texted Rae back. He’d killed gift one by that cheeky grin on her face, and a high ran under his skin at the idea of putting it on her face as often as possible.
The thought of Rae ever feeling lonely had driven his feet to where he stood now. That night at the beach was more eye opening than he’d bargained for, and an ache tinged in his gut every time he pictured Rae upset for being alone. It was unfathomable to him that she wasn’t already taken. She was hilarious and always had been his first call when he was bored, even when he’d been with someone. He’d never tell her, but their friendship was the main reason for most of his failed relationships. When Rae took precedence, whoever he was with felt second best. Not that he could blame ‘em.
A low growl took him out of his train of thought, and he furrowed his brow and slipped his phone into his pocket. Ginny stepped through the sliding glass door that led to the backyard, a large ball of gray and white fur tucked up against her chest.
“That’s not another bunny, is it?” he asked, taking a step back. A smile tilted Ginny’s lips, and she turned slightly. A flat-faced grump stared at him with piercing gray eyes. A low growl cut through the wind, and below the fat, furry body, a thick tail curled back and forth near Ginny’s bright yellow shorts and black tights.
“He’s a Ragdoll mix.” Ginny reached up to scratch what must be the head. The low growl still rang through the air. The thing wasn’t about to be consoled.
“So…” Tommy took a step forward. “It’s like a cat?”
Ginny chuckled and spun the animal in her arms. It had to be a twenty pounder, and it was all fur. “He came to the shelter about a month ago. Poor thing had a staple lodged in his ear.” She ran a hand over the top of the cat’s head, gently scratching the spot where an ear should’ve been. “His recovery has been good, but he’s still a little wobbly on his feet. He’s adjusting to his new equilibrium.”
“And he’s good to be adopted?” Tommy asked, still not sure if he should put his hand near the thing making that ungodly noise. Ginny was teeny tiny, but apparently her balls were ten times larger than Tommy’s when it came to beasts. She tucked her hands under the cat’s front legs and lifted his face to hers. She wrinkled her nose and put on a baby voice.
“You just got approved this morning, didn’t you? Yes, you did. Passed all your tests with flying colors.”
“And that growl… That’s like, a normal thing?”
Ginny settled the cat back into her arms and laughed. “He’s just a bit of a grump. He’s at the ‘Get off my lawn’ stage for cats.”
“Is he gonna be dead by the end of the year?” Tommy was not getting Rae a companion only to have the thing croak.
“He’s still got a good five to seven years. Ragdolls average around fifteen years old. And George is eight, yes you are.” She stuck her head into the fur, and Tommy secretly applauded her bravery.
“George.”
“Steven has a thing for naming the animals after geeky pop culture characters. George Weasley loses an ear.”
“Appropriate.” Tommy laughed and tentatively reached out to the guy. “A little morbid but…” The cat growled louder as he got closer, and he lost his nerve.
“You think he’ll be good with Rae?” He wasn’t too sure. The hissing Rodger Rabbit at least had breaks between his grumpy attitude. Was Tommy just a trigger for all creatures? Maybe they could sense his lack of commitment attitude and his affinity for taking off for weeks at a time.
“The question is… Is Rae good for him?” Ginny’s polite manner shifted somewhat into business mode. “Will she take care of him? Make sure he’s loved and fed and cuddled? What kind of place will he be living in? Is she going to keep him inside or let him wander?”
“Wow, third degree,” Tommy joked, but apparently it was a bad time for it. Ginny’s teeth tugged at her bottom lip and she inched back toward the sliding glass door.
“Maybe a pet isn’t the best idea…”
Tommy held his hands up. “Wait… Sorry. I was just fooling around.” He let his gaze drift over the twenty pounds of growling fur, and something tugged inside at him. He didn’t want to let that big guy go to just anyone. “Rae’s a great caretaker,” he said, recalling the weekend prior when he’d been dying. “She likes to cuddle and loves big, soft things. I’m sure she’d keep him inside. The only thing is that she works a lot and lives alone. Would he be okay on his own during those times?”
Ginny’s shoulders relaxed, and a shy smile crept on her face. “He’s extremely low maintenance. Sleeps and cuddles most of the time, but it needs to be on his terms or you get this.” She nodded to the cat and the constant growling. “He’s not an overeater, either, despite his size. So auto feeders are fine. He’s a pretty good guard animal, too. Very protective of his space and his people.”
“Is that why he doesn’t want me touching him?”
Her eyes sparkled with amusement, and she tucked the cat up against her chest and squeezed. “He does the same thing with Steven. I think he prefers the ladies.”
“Smart cat.” A smile hit Tommy somewhere in his chest, and like all his decisions, he made up his mind about George pretty quickly. “So… like do I have you box him up or something?”
“You really would like to adopt him?” Her voice perked up with surprise and hope. Damn, that voice would make anyone adopt any animal she presented. She was probably killer at her job. Watch out, pet cynics.
“Rae’s gonna love him.” He was sure of i
t. A cuddly cat for her to snuggle at night instead of that giant pillow? He was winning Valentine’s Day. “And if you’re still worried, I’ll be around a lot, too to take care of the guy.”
An excited squeal escaped Ginny, and she bounced with the cat. The growls gave off a nice vibrato. “I’ll get the paperwork ready. Here…” She held the cat out. Did she want him to hold the thing? “You get to know him. He’ll spend as much time with you as he does her.”
That was true, but did everyone know that about him and Rae? It was rare they were ever seen apart. Then why did Rae feel so lonely?
Grateful he had a pretty thick coat on, Tommy tucked his hands under the softer than feathers fur and held the cat out like a bomb. Ginny shook her head with a grin and adjusted his hold. George’s face was dangerously close to his when she skipped into the house.
Man, the thing could growl.
“Uh, hey…” Tommy said, not daring to look the cat in the eye. “Guess you’re coming with me. Be cool about it, ‘kay? I have a girl to impress.”
George was not a good listener. He growled and squirmed in Tommy’s arms, and a set of claws dug into his shoulder as the cat tried to climb up and over. Tommy tightened his grip, but the thing was huge and heavy and grumpy and he was not about to fight for his life.
The pups from the corner of the yard perked their heads up, and a tight cord of panic strapped around his stomach.
“No, no, no… Stay there, guys.” But with Ginny and her Snow White powers gone, the Labradors bounded over, tongues lolling out of the sides of their mouths. A sharp pang cut through his thick coat and clung into his shoulder, and Tommy let out a cry that sounded a lot like a five-year-old. George clawed up onto his shoulder, coiling on his upper back and clinging to his neck. The cat hissed at the dogs from over Tommy’s head, and Tommy stood stone still, afraid to move the slightest bit and send the cat flying—and leaving a few marks on his way down.
The dogs’ tails pounded against his legs as they circled him like sharks. Please don’t jump, he thought, and then prayed to God and all his angels to send Ginny back to save him.
His coat tugged, and he bent a little so George didn’t slip off his back. Okay, maybe he could get into the house, and the dogs would leave him alone.
He took a cautious step forward, nudging the black lab. A sharp breath hissed through his teeth as George clung to his exposed neck. If he wasn’t careful, he’d end up with another piercing. There were a good twenty or more paces to get inside, and Tommy was pretty sure his skin wasn’t going to make it.
His eyes scanned the yard in a desperate attempt to find something to distract the dogs. A bowl of dog toys sat on a patio table that was more like ten steps away. He took a deep breath and changed direction.
“Okay, hang on tight, Georgie boy.” Hunched over with a twenty pound cat on his back and two labs playing tag at his feet, Tommy started the longest journey of his life, and that included that time he backpacked for two hundred miles straight during one summer.
As soon as he got within reach, the dogs’ excitement grew, and George’s growls rang through his eardrums. Tommy’s fingers fumbled over the cold metal of the table to the smooth bowl. He grabbed the first thing he could, a torn up blue and red rope, held his breath and said a prayer, then flung the thing across the yard. George dug in with the sudden movement, Tommy cried like a little kid again, and the dogs took off. Before they could come back, Tommy secured George and sprinted into the house. He got the door slid into place right before two heavy dog butts slammed into the glass with a thump.
“Whew!” he said, pumping his fist into the air. George flopped over his shoulder like a rag doll and had his first second without growling. “I got you, big guy,” he said, fist bumping the dude’s paw. They’d be buddies soon enough, he was sure. And Rae was gonna flip.
A soft cough floated through the room, and Tommy swiveled his gaze over the twenty pounds of fur. Ginny leaned against the dining table, her lips pressed together in amusement and a bundle of papers in her hand. Tommy rarely got embarrassed, but a warm rush ran over the back of his neck as they locked eyes.
“Uh… How much of that did you see?”
She let out a laugh and slid the papers across the table. “I think George approves of his adoptive father.”
Okay, pros and cons of telling Tommy about the interview…
Rae paced back and forth in her tiny living room, dodging the stuffed poop she’d dragged across town from her mom’s house. She fiddled with her phone, sliding it up and down her palm as she debated over calling her best friend and business partner.
The biggest pro on her list was the fact that she’d never hidden anything from him before—aside from being in love with him—and keeping this from him any longer might tear her up from the inside out.
But the darn con that came with the idea of telling him was the unknown reaction. Any way she spun it, she imagined devastating results. He either would be pissed off, and they’d start a fight, or he’d be happy for her, and her heart would break a little over him not being more upset.
She let out a growl and stopped her pacing, bending just enough to smack her head on the back of the couch. She had to tell him; she knew that was the right and smart thing to do, and she was just going to suck it up and deal with whatever response he gave.
Her phone was lit up with unread notifications, and to delay the inevitable conversation, she flicked through them real quick. A text from Tommy, of course. She swiped it away, saving it for last. Two missed calls from Frankie, who she would call back later, a couple of random game invites on Facebook, and Instagram responses from her poop emoji picture she’d posted a few hours ago.
And there at the bottom… a message from Gavin Mills.
Her breath got stuck somewhere between her lungs and her tongue, and she choked on nothing but air. It was a total sign, right? A sign to not go to Vegas just yet. A sign of hope here in Seattle that maybe there was a guy who wasn’t a dick—and who wasn’t Tommy—she could potentially give her heart to.
There she went… getting carried away again, but she clicked open the message, completely forgetting the deal she’d made with Tommy to not mess around on the dating apps until after Valentine’s Day.
Hey. Sorry it took a while to message back. Things get pretty busy where I work, and I’m trying to get things renovated… I work in a bar. Well, I own it now, I guess. (I’m not trying to brag, I swear.) And since St. Patrick’s Day is the biggie for the business I’m in, I’m getting things prepared.
I should probably delete all that and start over, but it took me at least ten minutes to type, so I’m not going to. My point… I’m sorry for the delay. I’m looking forward to getting to know you better. We’ve met, right? I’m pretty sure I remember you.
Gosh, he was long-winded. And adorable as heck. She didn’t expect it coming from such a freaking handsome face.
She slumped into her moth-eaten couch and slid her fingers over her screen, ready to type back but three little bubbles popped up, and she stopped.
Please tell me I didn’t blow this.
A snort rumbled her nose, and she quickly put his mind at ease. No worries. I actually was forbidden by my best friend to fart around on the dating app until after Valentine’s Day.
The bubbles appeared immediately after she hit send, and she relaxed into her couch, kicking her feet up on the arm.
Breaking the rules for me? Rebel ;)
My middle name, she typed. It’d been a while since she’d done this—spent some time flirting via chat. She prayed he didn’t send a dick pic and ruin it all. You at work right now, then?
Always. Waiting on the delivery guys. Got new chairs.
I’ll have to check them out, she boldly typed, hoping he’d agree to a visit.
Open tonight ;) Bring that best friend. I’ll convince her not everyone online is so bad.
Ah, the kicker. He better be cool with her having a male best bud. She’d broken off more than one
relationship because of ultimatums, and sorry boys, but Tommy was non-negotiable.
Her high-pitched doorbell cut through the Gavin spell, and she jumped, her phone flying from her hand. She snorted at herself, rolling off the couch. “Hang on!” she called out, fumbling around the stuffed poop to get to the door. A wave of wild blond hair peeked at her through the peephole, and a smile curled her lips. Her phone lay forgotten on the carpet.
“If it isn’t the poop delivery guy,” she said, swinging the door open. Tommy’s grin was so wide the corners of his mouth practically touched his ears. His brown eyes sparkled with excitement, and Rae furrowed her brow at a long, puffy scratch running across the length of his neck.
“What happened there—” she began, but her words cut off as he lifted what looked like a giant hand warmer.
Wait… there was a face in that warmer.
“What the hell is that thing?” she asked, stepping back into her apartment. Tommy took it as an invitation to bring the thing inside.
“This is George,” he said proudly, holding the blob of fur out at arm’s length. Rae tilted her head, eyeing those beady gray eyes. A sound like an angry hive of bees echoed around them.
“And… what is George doing here?” She was afraid of the answer. Cats were evil. And this cat—if it was a cat—was making a noise that came straight from the depths of hell.
“I got him for you,” he said, his grin still just as wide as a little boy who’d stepped into Disneyland. “Part of the romance package.”
Just when she’d thought that no one could know her better than Tommy, he proved her dead wrong.
A cat.
He got her a cat.
Oh sweet Lord, a cat.
“Why…?” A wrinkle pulled at her nose. What in God’s name was that noise it was making? Would she have to live with that?
His smile faltered, and he set the droopy fat cat onto the floor. It bounded down the hall and plopped onto the rug that hung out in her hallway to cover a rip in the carpet.
