The goodbye kisses were too sweet not to get teary-eyed. As soon as Gigi took a look at her kids, she ran to them, and one by one, gave them a last bath. The kittens usually wrestled each other nonstop, swung from the curtains and the tablecloths, and waited by the laundry room to attack the ankles of anyone who dared walk between the kitchen and the bathroom (that is, everyone). But this time, they waited patiently for their own turn for a last moment with their mama. Now it was Fifi’s turn. Fifi, who never came first with anyone. Maybe Gigi had known that among the babies Fifi had been the one who’d received less affection and was now trying to send her off with the best memories.
Who knew what secrets were hidden underneath Gigi’s purrs? What advice was she telling her kids? I hoped that they knew that if they got lost, they could always come home.
A few days ago, I had prepared a box for each of the babies. The box contained a blanket with their mama’s scent, a birth certificate, a stuffed animal to hug, their records of their weight, a copy of their adoption contract with the vet’s info for vaccines and the spay-or-neuter appointment, and the sweaters Beli had knitted for them. We threw in cutout paper hearts and a kitty-themed Valentine’s Day card with our congratulations.
While Gigi and her babies had their last moment together, Julieta let me use her phone to text the chosen families. Reuben helped me check that the kittens’ going-away boxes were ready, but my heart drummed anxiously as I waited for the replies to come. I jumped every time the phone pinged with an incoming text.
One by one, the four replies arrived. Each family was more excited than the next. None of them turned their kitten down. None of them turned me down.
Finally, Julieta looked at the clock and asked, “Should we go?”
We placed the boxes in the car and headed out. Reuben sat in the back to make sure the kittens didn’t climb out of their carriers, but by the silence, I could tell everyone was behaving. Maybe they were surprised by the new experience of a car ride.
I rang the bell at the first stop, and Jojo and Sam opened their apartment door, grinning as I exclaimed, “Happy Valentine’s Day!” Jojo’s cheeks were bright pink and her blue eyes sparkled with excitement as her mom peered into the box and smiled at the sight of the kitten.
“Thank you,” Jojo said, hugging Harry to her chest. Sam smiled at me, and I was so happy seeing the joy the kitten had brought their family that I didn’t even have time to be teary-eyed. Soon, after a few instructions, it was time for the second delivery.
Hayden was next, and he was waiting with the door wide open.
He ran to meet us at the curb, and he was so excited that he grabbed the box from Julieta’s hands and ran back into his house to introduce Fifi to his parents without kissing Julieta.
“See you later,” we called, and he waved us goodbye.
“Thank you, Nati,” Julieta said as we headed off to the next stop. “I’ll never be able to top this Valentine’s Day gift.”
Reuben sat in the back with two kittens nestled on his lap. The next stop was easy because I knew it was such a perfect match. As we pulled up in front of a big house, a commercial played on the TV, and the smell of cookies curled from underneath the door. The perfect home for Meggie to grow up into the sunshine kitten she was becoming.
When I was about to knock, Lilah opened the door.
Her green eyes went wide with excitement. I offered the box with Meggie inside to her, and when she saw her alert little face peeking out, Lilah’s tears started flowing. “For real?”
I couldn’t really speak, so I nodded as the box passed from my hands to hers.
I watched as she carefully placed it on the floor. Before she lifted the blanket, I stepped into the house and closed the door. One escaped kitten was enough to last me a lifetime.
Lilah gasped. “She’s gorgeous! More beautiful in person than in pictures and videos!”
Carefully, she scooped up Meggie from the tiny nest. Meggie immediately bumped her little head against Lilah’s nose.
“That means she loves you already,” I said.
Lilah was speechless. Maybe sensing something special was happening, her mom peered into the room and smiled at me. “Thank you,” she said. “With Lilah’s older siblings moved out, our family was ready for a tiny furry creature to love. Lilah’s always wanted a kitten, and now our family’s complete.”
I went back to the car with empty arms, but a full heart. The stars were bright and popping out of the velvet sky.
My queen Georgiana, my kitten finally, was waiting for me in the front seat. Her huge yellow eyes reflected the stars, and when she blinked, I knew she meant thank you for finding the perfect homes for her babies.
We still had one more stop, though.
“Bodhi?” Julieta asked.
I nodded, and looking back at Reuben, I said, “And Meera.”
“Meow, meow!” Reuben exclaimed, and kissed Johnny on the head.
I wished Reuben would say one of his jokes to make me laugh, but the next stop was Max’s future family. I’d wanted to keep her for myself, this kitten I had fed with so much love for so many weeks. This kitten that had been at the brink of passing on to cat heaven, but who’d fought so hard for her life. And although it hurt to see her go, the family she was going to was the perfect match for my rainbow kitten.
Julieta stopped the car, and as I got out with Max in her box, I took a deep breath. The night was clear and pure, and the cold air blew all my doubts away. This was what I needed to do.
Reuben and I walked up to the front door.
The Rogerses’ home had a pink light in every window and dozens of construction paper hearts pasted on the door. Meera opened it to us with the same wonder in her eyes that had welcomed us in every one of the homes I’d chosen for the kittens. We looked at each other and Meera nodded slightly.
“He’s playing with his stuffed kittens in his room,” she said, guiding me in.
We followed her up a flight of stairs, and I opened the door to Bodhi’s room.
He played under a gauze canopy, cat-ear headband on his head, reading to his stuffed kittens. When he heard me enter, he turned around to look over his shoulder. His eyes filled with tears when he saw the box in my hands.
“Niño Gato,” I said, “are you ready to become a kitten protector?”
There was no joy like the light on Bodhi’s face. He and little Max went together like cheese and dulce de guava. Carefully, he took Max out of the box, and she nestled against the crook of Bodhi’s neck as if she’d done it a million times before. I’d been feeling so sad about giving Max away, but Bodhi would clearly do absolutely anything for her. Bodhi whispered in her ears, and I caught a few of his words. “I know Nati named you Max, but I think you’re an arco iris, a rainbow. What do you think, Iris?”
Meera looked at me alarmed, like she was afraid I’d complain he was already changing the kitten’s name. But love means sometimes you need to let go, and I loved this kitten and Bodhi.
As he began introducing the kitten to each stuffed animal in the room, Meera and I walked out of the room. Reuben stayed with Bodhi, showing him how Max—Iris—liked to chase strings around the room.
“We have a kitten station in the mudroom,” Meera said. “I hope it’s okay.”
She sounded so nervous, like we’d never been best friends before.
Love means letting go.
Letting go of kittens, of sisters going to college to start the next chapter, and of grudges that hurt so much in the past but that I’d made worse for not wanting to forgive. This wasn’t the way to spread kindness and love.
“Meera,” I said, “can you forgive me for never trying to understand your side of the story with Slime Supreme? Reuben didn’t want to choose between you and me because he said he could understand how both of us felt. I wish—” My voice broke. I’d missed her so much.
Meera chewed a fingernail. “I wish I had asked you before posting the recipe. I didn’t know how to make everyone happy whe
n they couldn’t get into the lottery, but I also didn’t realize how special that recipe was to you. I thought of everyone else’s feelings but yours, and I lost you. I’m sorry. I missed you so much, Nati.” I reached out my arms, and she hugged me back hard.
“Oh, my whiskers!” Reuben exclaimed from behind, making Meera and me jump. “I’m purr-plexed! But don’t get me wrong, it’s cat-tastic that you guys are friends again!” He hugged both Meera and me.
“I’m sorry,” I said to both of them. “No more grudges.”
Meera flicked her hair to the side and said, “No more secrets, okay? Especially when it’s about kittens.”
We laughed, but I actually had a favor to ask her, and while Bodhi introduced Max—Iris—to the whole family, I told Meera and Reuben about Mrs. Snow’s Kindness Club assignment. I wanted her and Reuben to be the first ones in on the plan.
After we said goodbye to Meera and her family, Julieta and I dropped off Reuben and Johnnycakes at home. His mom fell in love with the kitten as soon as she laid eyes on him. Johnny would never lack for love and attention.
Back home, after I sent an email to Mrs. Snow, we settled in to watch a movie, Juli, my Gigi, and I. Soon, a car rumbled to a stop in the carport.
But when I turned to see if it was Hayden coming over with cookies, I saw Mami standing at the door.
She smiled and said, “I missed my little cupid girl.”
And without missing a beat, she came up to me and hugged me.
A sigh escaped my lips. I melted into Mami’s arms. I’d missed being nestled against her, in that scent of her hair that meant home.
Gigi sat daintily in between us, purring, healing my heart and telling me everything would be all right.
“You kept my favorite,” Mami said.
“It was the only choice. It’s all her fault after all, so she’s stuck with us.”
Mami laughed, and it was the most beautiful sound in the world.
“You’re early,” I said.
She smiled her Cheshire-cat smile that said so much without words. “We have a lot to catch up on, young lady. I just got a message from Mrs. Snow.” I winced as I held my breath. “She told me about your fake account and the complicated plan for the kittens.” Mami looked stern. “We’ll talk about it. But she also loved the proposal for the Kindness Club you sent her tonight. She said that the whole school will love the idea of holding a class-wide volunteer day at the Andromeda shelter for Kindness Club. It’s brilliant, and I’m proud of you.”
My breath rushed out of me. “Well,” I said carefully, “kitten season is almost here, so we need all the foster families we can get.”
Mami pressed her lips but then started laughing. “Ay, ay, ay! What did we get ourselves into?” But her eyes were sparkling, so I knew that in spite of her words, she would be able to forgive me.
“At least now we know what to do with newborn kittens. Sending them off to their families and saying goodbye won’t be as hard anymore,” Julieta said.
I suspected saying goodbye would always be hard. I didn’t even want to think of the moment my sister left for college in the fall, but in the last eight weeks, I’d learned that spreading kindness and happiness meant letting go. That love didn’t fade with time and distance or get divided between people.
“Beli said she’d do her own version of the Kindness Club with Tío Mako and the girls at the local shelter in Puerto Rico,” Mami added. “Nati, who would’ve thought one little act of kindness on a stormy night could affect people and animals all the way across the continent and the ocean?”
“Meow, meow!” I exclaimed, because although I was getting better at rolling my r’s, I still didn’t know how to purr, and the happiness spilling over my heart could only be expressed in cat-isms.
The news was too meowgical to keep to ourselves.
“We need to tell Papi,” I said. “Is it too late to call him?”
Mami and Julieta exchanged one of those looks of surprise, but only for a second.
My mom looked at her watch and said, “It’s already after eight a.m. there. I’m sure he’s around.”
My heart pounded so hard as she dialed the number and then the phone rang. Gigi slept on my lap, and before my nerves got the best of me, she started purring again as if she knew I needed all the support I could get.
And then he answered, and I saw his smiley, tanned face on the tiny phone screen.
“Happy San Valentín, Papi,” I said. It was already February 14 where he was.
“Feliz San Valentín, beba,” he exclaimed.
And I told him the truth.
It was all the cat’s fault. It was her fault that my heart didn’t feel like a stone anymore, that I’d learned to forgive and let my heart heal. It was her fault I learned that a mom can’t love one baby more than the other. Sometimes, one just needs a little more attention.
It was her fault that I’d found a project that could spread happiness and kindness to the whole town and beyond. It was all Gigi’s fault. And the little queen knew it.
Turn the page for a sneak peek at Blizzard Besties by Yamile Saied Méndez!
Despite her record, Vanesa Campos was determined not to ruin her family’s vacation. Not this special one. Since getting off the airplane, nothing major had happened, but a whole week stretched out ahead that could turn into disaster. She could feel a catastrophe sneaking up on her.
She was wearing a million layers, but goose bumps covered her arms. Her ears popped. Maybe they did because the minibus was going full speed down a mountain road across Parley’s Canyon. They were headed toward Park City, Utah—and, hopefully, the world’s greatest ski vacation. Vanesa had her eyes shut so she wouldn’t get carsick. She twisted her new friendship bracelet between her fingers. It was the ugliest shade of brown in the world. Amber had promised Vanesa that after the break she could have a golden bracelet—if she became an official Sunshine Darling.
The shuttle came to a sudden stop, and the driver exclaimed, “Welcome to Pinecloud Lodge!”
Right on cue, Vanesa’s phone vibrated in her pocket, announcing the arrival of an avalanche of messages.
She sneaked her phone out carefully and peeked at the screen. Seeing that her notifications were in the double digits, she whispered, “Finally!” She also added a silent prayer of thanks to the internet fairies. The PinecloudGuests Wi-Fi had three solid bars, which guaranteed uninterrupted connection to her friends. If she broke her perfect message streak with the group, her chance for permanent membership in the Darlings would vanish—she was already on probation.
She had to reply to all her messages, but that would have to wait a little longer. She slipped her phone back into her pocket.
From the seat beside her, Mami pressed Vanesa’s free hand affectionately and smiled.
“Finally!” she echoed.
Vanesa pressed her mom’s hand back. In the seat ahead, Papi looked over his shoulder and gave them a thumbs-up, grinning like a little kid. Vanesa knew that her parents had been saving up for a long time for this real vacation—one that wasn’t just visiting family.
Hunter, her little brother, who sat next to Papi, turned around, his head popping over the seat. He spoke in a whisper that for sure carried to all the passengers. “Remember,” he said to Vanesa, “let’s not ruin this vacation. And when I say let’s, I mean don’t. I’ve never been on a real vacation before, and I’m seven-and-three-quarters years old already!”
Papi, Mami, and Vanesa cringed, but Hunter was too cute to tell off. Besides, he was only voicing everyone’s biggest concern. Luckily, Papi urged him to turn around again, shooting Vanesa an apologetic smile that didn’t make her feel any better.
Vanesa did have a reputation for ruining family outings. Unintentionally, of course, but still …
Last year, Vanesa had gotten sick with the stomach flu on the way to Christmas Eve dinner at Tío Pablo’s in Pasadena. Papi had to turn the car around half an hour before they reached their destination. By the time
they arrived back home in Las Flores, all four members of the Campos family were hurling. It hadn’t technically been Vanesa’s fault, but she’d been the one to start the Great Winter Plague that lasted for weeks. Also, if she’d listened to her gut carefully (and literally), she could’ve told Mami that the growling didn’t mean good news. But she’d kept quiet.
The year before that, when she was only ten, Vanesa tripped on her cousin’s enormous dress in her eagerness to pull a ribbon from the quinceañera cake. Seconds before the cake-pocalypse, a little voice in the back of Vanesa’s mind had told her to wait patiently, but she wanted to get the ring hidden in the cake. She hadn’t listened and ended up covered in meringue and dulce de leche. Her cousin eventually forgave her, but it would be a while before Vanesa, her parents, and Hunter were invited back to join the family in Miami for any kind of party.
The worst memory of all, though, was of that unforgettable, unforgivable, unmentionable day on her twelfth birthday last fall when her mistake had almost cost her a friend and hurt her little brother. She always shivered when she thought of that afternoon.
The day after that disaster, Abuela Bea had sat down next to Vanesa and told her that next time she had a feeling, she should listen to it. Sometimes the feeling was one’s wiser inner self, or an angel, sending a warning.
But Vanesa didn’t believe in immaterial things like warnings from angels. She could never really trust herself again after so many mistakes! Right then and there, she promised she wouldn’t—she couldn’t—let her little brother, Hunter, out of her sight that way again.
Hunter needed all the help he could get to stay out of trouble.
Vanesa watched Hunter spring to his feet when the shuttle driver, who looked like Santa Claus with a coonskin hat, gave the passengers the go-ahead to disembark. Hunter rushed down the bus steps ahead of everyone else.
“Hunter, put your jacket on!” Mami exclaimed. “You’re going to get a cold!” She ran after Hunter, shaking his bright yellow jacket in her hand. With his asthma, even a little cough was bad news. Here in Park City, the sun shone brightly, but Vanesa remembered her phone had said the temperatures were barely in the two-digit range. When it came to Hunter’s health, they couldn’t take any chances.
Random Acts of Kittens Page 14
