by Tonya Kappes
The faint sound of a meow caught her attention. She looked up and saw the stray cat had been staring at her from a good stand-off distance before darting to the front of the house.
A clap of thunder and a streak of lightning came from the dark gray clouds rolling in from the east. Quickly, she ran around the yard to the front of the house and picked up the paver, placing it back in its spot.
She stuck the five-gallon bucket of tools on the porch. She’d put them back in the barn after the storm blew over. The sound of raindrops jumping around on the tin roof made a smile dance across Poppy’s lips.
“Come on.” She held the screen door open for the standoffish cat. “I’ll get you some food while I make some tea.”
The cat glanced between her and the door. The feline made the decision as soon as another big clap of thunder roared over the farm and darted into the house.
True to her word, Poppy poured more kibble into the dish she had used earlier for the cat. She pulled the jug of tea out of the window. The glass was warm to the touch. Poppy stuck her nose above the jug, taking in a nice long whiff of the burnt orange tea. It smelled exactly like she remembered. The sweet smell tickled her taste buds, bringing them to life.
She took a glass jelly jar from the cabinet and ran it under the water faucet to get any accumulated dust off it. The refrigerator was old and not like the fancy one Rob had gotten her during the remodel of her dream kitchen. She had always thought she wanted a gourmet kitchen but found that she rarely used it.
The seal of the old baby blue Frigidaire made a suction sound when Poppy opened the door. She used her leg to prop the door and opened the plastic door at the top where the freezer was, then grabbed the single silver steel ice tray. She took the tray over to the sink and flip it over before running cold water along the bottom to loosen the ice before she cracked it on the counter and put the ice in the jar.
She poured the warm sun tea over the ice, fracturing the frozen water as it cracked. She resisted the urge to take a nice long drink. She wanted to go out on the porch and welcome the approaching storm.
The cat had eaten all the kibble and sat next to the dish, licking its paws.
“You are so fat.” Poppy looked down at the feline. She hadn’t noticed just how round the sides of the cat was. “I guess you are why there aren’t any mice in here.”
Poppy and the cat kept a good distance from each other, one eyeballing the other as she grabbed her glass and headed down the hall to the front porch. The window curtains bellowed out as a strong summer breeze flew in the windows. The smell of rain intertwined with the fresh country air. A storm was coming and there was nothing that soothed Poppy’s soul more.
If only the Coach was here. She sighed and sat down in the rocker. She was pleased with how clean it had gotten from using bleach and a little elbow grease.
“Cheers,” she murmured and held the glass out to the lake. The dock was already swaying back and forth from the unsettled water caused by the downpour of rain.
“Not bad.” She smacked her lips together after the first sip passed down her throat. She took note that she could stand to use a little more sugar, so she made a mental note to add another cup, and then laughed out loud.
She never dreamed she’d be sitting here and working on a recipe for sun tea. It wasn’t in her plans. Funny how plans changed in the blink of an eye.
The sound of the rain on the tin roof only made her miss the Coach more, and she wondered if he was wondering where she was. There wasn’t a live phone line in the house and she didn’t have a cell so she couldn’t call to let him know she was okay and fixing up the farmhouse enough for her. For him.
She smacked the arm of the rocking chair. That’s it! She leaned back in the rocker and took another sip, using her foot to ease the chair back and forth in a slow motion. I’m going to break him out just like he did me.
She knew she’d get into a hell of a lot of trouble, but he deserved to enjoy his house even if her parents didn’t approve.
“Screw them,” she growled.
The cat growled back from inside the house, causing Poppy to look back at her.
It let out a gawd-awful sound, howling, and curled in a ball at the threshold of the front door.
“It’s just a storm,” Poppy said over a clap of thunder before lightning clipped the black sky. The cat was pacing back and forth, growling and rubbing its side along the screen door. “Are you okay?” Poppy asked as the cat screamed, sounding like a toddler.
The cat fell over, its chest heaving up and down at a rapid pace.
“Shit!” Poppy flung the door open and looked at the cat. “Oh my God! Don’t die on me.” She ran into the next room and grabbed one of the quilts she had washed earlier with the sheets off the back of the couch. She wrapped the cat up in it, thankful it didn’t try to claw her. She grabbed the Mustang key and lay the quilt and the cat in the passenger seat.
“Please, please, please still be there.” Poppy’s hands gripped the steering wheel and prayed the Bluegrass Veterinary Clinic was still open after all these years.
She’d never had any animals, but the Coach had had plenty of strays, just like this cat, and he would take them there if he needed to. The vet had to be one hundred years old now because he’d looked eighty when Poppy was a kid.
The rain was as sharp as a lance against the window and the windshield wipers weren’t in the best condition, but it did keep most of the windshield clear long enough for Poppy to make it just north of town, where the vet clinic was located.
Poppy talked to the cat, never looking over in case it had died. She’d let the vet take a look.
“Thank you, Lord!” she screamed. The tires squealed underneath her as she drove into the parking lot of the animal clinic. The signed blinked OPEN.
Poppy laid on the horn a couple of times before she jumped out. Someone had parted the blinds as she was making her way around the car to get the cat.
“Help me!” she screamed at the shadow in the window and threw her hands into the air. A big clap of thunder made her jump and put a little giddy-up in her step.
The clinic door slammed. Poppy brushed back her drenched hair, which was plastered to her face. The shadowy figure came closer. Lightning cracked the sky apart.
“Brett.” Poppy stood in front of Brett Barrett in a pose of weary dignity.
Her hand followed his eyes to her collarbones. The locket he’d given her all those years ago hung over the collar of her shirt.
Chapter Fifteen
The rain streaked down his face like tears. It took everything in her power not to reach up and dry off his cheeks.
“Brett.” Hearing his name come out of her mouth sent chills down her spine. Suddenly, she submerged herself into the memory of the time they had gotten caught in the rain after a long hike on the farm. They were sixteen and when they made it back, she stood in front of him soaked to the bone, just as she was now. No one was at the farmhouse and no one was coming because lightning had struck a tree, knocking it over and landing across the only country road to and from the farm, making it impassable.
Poppy had peeled her clothes off right there in the foyer of the old house. The electricity was out. The lightning would flash, lighting up the gray sky, making the outline of her body in her panties and bra flash for a brief moment like a she was under a disco ball. Lightning cracked, sending Poppy into Brett’s arms. They didn’t bother making it to the bedroom. Their bodies beat to the rhythm of the storm for what would be the first of many times. That was the moment that had changed her life forever.
“Get out of my way.” Poppy shoved past him when another clap of thunder shook the memory from her mind. “Doc! Help!”
“What’s wrong?” Brett asked. Her hand followed his eyes as they drew on her collarbone.
“That stupid stray cat you couldn’t catch has the mange or something.” She darted around the car and opened the passenger door, forgetting about the rain pouring down on and around them.
“What’s wrong with the cat?” Brett asked in a calm manner. His eyes squinted; the rain beat between them.
“Like you would know. Where’s the doctor?” she asked.
“You’re looking at him,” Brett said. “I’m not the SPCA worker you thought I was.”
“Shit,” she spat. “Well, I don’t know where else to go or I would have.” She pointed to the quilt on the seat where the cat was snugged inside.
She gulped when she saw his eyes focus on the glistening pink diamond on her finger. She brought her hand down and covered it with her other one. “That cat is growling and howling in pain.”
“Is she in the car?” he asked, looking past her shoulder.
“She?” Poppy asked. “How do you know it’s a she?”
“Is she in the car?” he questioned, his voice a little deeper, demanding an answer.
“Yes.” She nodded, and said, “In the quilt.”
He leaned into the car and picked up the blanket before running toward the clinic.
“Grab the door!” he yelled over the rain and his shoulder. Poppy did what he asked and watched helplessly as he ran inside. “I knew she was close, but not this close.”
She followed him down the hall and into an exam room. Poppy watched in silence as Brett put the quilt on the steel table and carefully unfolded it.
“Oh, no. She’s dead?” Poppy looked away. She couldn’t stand to see an animal hurt.
“Dead? No.” He laughed. He reached up and wiped a strand of hair away from Poppy’s cheek. “She’s a mom.”
Her heart hammered foolishly with the touch of his fingers as they glided along her cheek with her strand of hair in his fingers.
She gulped and took a step back.
“Mom? Did you say mom?” She stepped forward and looked when he gestured her to come back to the examining table.
The cat was busy licking what looked like two slick tiger kittens.
“I’ll give them a good look-over, but they look healthy.” He didn’t wait for her to protest before he took charge.
“You’re a veterinarian?” She didn’t know why, but the term was a shock to her.
“Not everyone is a farmer, Realtor, or banker around here.” He gave the cat a once-over before looking at each of the kittens again. “Someone had to take over when Doc retired.”
“But today you said—” she started, but he interrupted her.
“I didn’t say anything. You said it and I wasn’t going to argue with you.” He let out a deep sigh and looked up at her. “When are you leaving town?” His tone aroused and infuriated her.
“Why is that your business?” She wasn’t sure how to handle this situation. She’d never planned on seeing him again after this morning. Another time her plan had failed her. She crossed her arms when she felt his eyes scan her soaked-through shirt. She curled her hand up around her throat, making sure the locket was still tucked away.
“If you aren’t going to be able to take care of this cat and her kittens, I’m going to have to find a foster for them.”
For a second, she’d hoped he was going to say that he wanted to see her again, talk about what had been going on between them, catch up. Who was she kidding? She wanted him to kiss her. She had been thinking about him all day.
She gulped back her memory.
“I can foster them until you find them a home,” she sputtered matter-of-factly.
“And that means you are sticking around for a while?” he asked and put the stethoscope up to the smallest kitten’s chest. Never once looking at her, though she wanted him to.
“I…” She cleared her throat, hoping to buy some time for a decent answer. “I’m here taking care of the Coach for a while.”
“So you’ve talked to your parents?” he asked. She could tell he was busying himself with the other kitten while trying to get answers out of her.
“Not all of us can make our parents proud of our profession,” she spat at him. “Can I take them now or do you want to listen to their hearts for the tenth time?”
“What is it you do again? Sex therapy?” His words bit her like a mad mosquito.
“Radio host. National radio host.” She glared at him and grabbed the quilt. She didn’t have to sit here and take his crap.
“Yeah, yeah.” He laughed at her mockingly. “How’s that dick of a husband of yours?”
She bit her lip. He was a dick, but Brett didn’t need to know that. But more importantly, why had Brett called him that when he’d never met him?
“I’m sorry,” His words softened. He looked away from her and opened the cabinet door behind them. He took out an empty box and set it on the exam table. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
He took the quilt from her and put it in the box. Gently, he picked up the mama cat and lay her down in the box, and then each kitten.
Poppy didn’t say anything. Like the Coach had told her, sometimes silence spoke louder than words.
He pushed the box toward her.
“In about a month you should bring her in, or if you leave town before that have the new adoptive owner bring in the cat for a spay.” He reached in and rubbed his fingertip on each of the tops of their heads. “I might know someone who will take the kittens.” He shrugged. “And maybe the mama too.”
Poppy picked up the box and held it close to her.
“Thank you for helping me,” she said. “I know you didn’t have to.” She turned around and walked out of the exam room. Just shy of the front door of the clinic, she turned around again.
“And I’m sorry I thought you worked at the SPCA. This…” She looked around the clinic. “This is so you.” She offered a smile as a peace offering, even though he didn’t reciprocate. “Divorce,” she whispered.
“Did you say divorce?” he asked, almost shocked.
Her eyes slide up to his and they looked at each other in silence a little too long.
“Yeah, divorce.” With that, Poppy left. She looked back at him from the rearview mirror. He stood in the steady rain. “Shit.” Her heart raced, watching him run his hand through his wet hair.
Chapter Sixteen
Poppy must’ve fallen asleep after checking on the cat and her kittens. She had put the box in the television room on the first floor, next to the fireplace, and had come upstairs to change out of her wet clothes so she could head over to Sunshine to see the Coach.
She remembered lying on the bed, and how she’d told herself that a fifteen-minute power nap was all she needed. Two hours later, the clock read nine thirty p.m., and visiting hours would be over at Sunshine. She definitely knew she had to go see the Coach tomorrow.
She lay in the dark, staring up at the blades on the fan as they went around and around. She wondered what the people at Pine Crest had thought when they went to her room after she didn’t show up for group. Who they had called, and if Rob knew yet. Had he gotten in touch with his lawyer and retracted the deal because she’d left the facility? It was only nine thirty, but she was exhausted and ready to put this day into the books.
She jerked up when she heard the light knocking coming from downstairs. Who on earth could be making a house call at midnight? A robber.
Poppy grabbed the shotgun she’d stuck underneath her bed earlier, after she’d gotten the lights back on, and headed downstairs.
She flipped on the porch light and through the leaded stained-glass front door, she could see the outline of someone. With the gun in her grip, she opened the door.
Elizabeth stood on the other side.
“Elizabeth?” Poppy opened the screen door.
“Shit, Poppy! Put the gun down.” Elizabeth stepped into the light. Her mascara was streaked black down her red, blotchy face. She held out the Tupperware freeze pop molds Poppy had ordered that morning at the Hair Depot.
“Wow, that was fast.” Poppy took the molds. “But you could’ve waited until daylight to come over. Or least morning.”
“I had ’em and thought I’d bring �
�em on over, thinking you might up and leave town like you’d done before.” Elizabeth sniffed and shoved her way into the screen door. “Arn’t you gonna ask what is wrong with me? I look a mess.”
“I guess I thought it was the rain.”
“Wrong.” Elizabeth stomped inside the foyer, down the hall, and into the kitchen. It was just like her to waltz right on in someone’s house and make herself at home. “I got a call from Judy Pickens, the manager over at the Winn-Dixie, to do an emergency color fix because she’d gone to the Dollar Store and got a box of color. She didn’t read the expiration on the box and it nearly burned her hair up. I told her that was why shit was a dollar and why the Dollar Store was called the Dollar Store. Know what I mean?” Elizabeth made herself at home, looking through the cabinets before she settled on a Mason jar and fixed herself some sun tea. “Anyway, while I was standing in Judy’s kitchen scrubbing her hair up under the sink faucet, I was looking around. You know that rooster-pattern wallpaper that was so popular with our mamas?” Elizabeth asked. Her elbow was tucked into her waist and her hand held out with the Mason jar of tea, sloshing the sides as she walked.
“Yes.” Poppy followed behind Elizabeth into the family room. Elizabeth peeked into the box of cats and rubbed the mama cat on the head.
“Well, she has that exact same wallpaper in her house and she’s only a few years older than us. Us!” With grace, she brought the glass to her mouth and eased down on the couch. “Then I saw that cabinet I wanted down at Sweet Pickin’ Antiques down on Broadway in her kitchen.”
“Um-kay.” Poppy was not following Elizabeth’s story at all. Exhausted, she sat down on the couch next to Elizabeth, curled her legs up under her, pulled the quilt from the back of the couch over them, and planted her elbow on the back of the couch to use her hand as her headrest.
“And it hit me like a hammer.” Her eyes were hard, cruel, and pitiless. Poppy shifted. “I don’t want to spend the rest of my life like Judy Pickens and her husband. They got them four bratty boys running around creating all sorts of havoc. They took that perfectly cute cabinet and turned it in to what else.” She took another drink.
