Roxy kept her eye on Derek. She didn't follow him around, but checked on him often. With each litter box he cleaned, the repugnant face he made was a little less intense. It was going to be a real challenge to find stuff for him to do all day without touching the cats. It was a cat shelter, after all.
Roxy was relieved they'd all made it through the morning unscathed. And the cats seemed giddy to all be in the mingle room at the same time. The only other time it had happened was when there'd been a leak in the roof of the kennel area. What a nightmare. Cats didn't appreciate being wet. Not even a little. They'd given themselves and each other tongue-baths for two hours. At least this time, everyone stayed dry. And no one was in danger of spraining a tongue.
Roxy did all the usual shelter stuff she did every day, but couldn't stop thinking about Max. Why did the thought of him tie her in knots? Beside the fact he was drool-worthy? He was handsome, sure, but so were a lot of men. Max wasn't just handsome, though. The man had a definite "something." Whatever it was got under her skin. She hoped she'd get a chance to know him better, so she could figure out just what the "something" was. She already knew the figuring out part would be fun.
The bell chimed on the front door. Teresa Lynn and Roxy glanced up. Two adults and two small kids entered.
"Hi," said Roxy. "What kind of cat can I help you find today?"
"We're just looking," replied the tall, rangy, thirty-something man.
"Certainly. Help yourself. The cats' cages are through the hallway." She pointed behind her.
Roxy hated to hover, but didn't always trust little kids around the kittens. They never meant to squeeze them too tight, but often did. One terrible incident had her rushing a tiny kitten to the vet after a two-year-old boy had gotten hold of it and squeezed its middle. Hard. She'd heard a plaintive mew. She'd found the kitten lying on the floor, the toddler crying after his mom had whopped him on his diaper. The mother had then accused Roxy of leaving kittens just laying about for innocent kids to grab. If those were her thoughts, why did her child get punished? Thankfully, no major harm had come to the kitten. Although to this day he didn't like small children. Go figure.
She idled in the doorway to the kennels, trying to be invisible. Too much attention might irritate the adults and they wouldn't come back.
The little girl, no more than three, almost toppled over reaching into the kitten pen. Roxy grasped her hands together, willing herself to stay where she was, not to interfere. But it was hard. These were her babies.
The woman swatted the toddler's bottom. "No. Don't reach in there. Just look."
Roxy let out a breath. The kitten would live to mew another day.
The girl cried, sniffling at first, then crescendoed to a high-pitched wail.
Roxy grimaced. Poor kittens, unable to escape the auditory torture. She wished she could give them all some tiny earmuffs to ease the eardrum-splitting noise. They'd all have headaches tonight when she put them to bed.
She backed out of the doorway a little, but didn't leave. Peeking around the doorframe, she watched them. The people kept standing there with their backs toward her, talking about something else. Not even looking at the cats. Then why are they here? Couldn't they see the adorable kittens on their hind legs at the side of the pen, trying to get their attention? And they were so cute. Fluffy and soft. Her first impulse was to race in there, scoop them all up, and snuggle with them. The cats, not the people.
The boy, about seven, tugged on his dad's hand. "How much longer till the movie, Daddy?"
She heard a pause. Was he checking his watch?
"Another thirty minutes. Then we can leave."
The little girl, now only sniffling again, almost shouted, "Can I have a kitty, Mommy?"
"No!" snapped her mom.
No? Then you people need to vacate. Now! You obviously aren't interested in what we have to offer. And you don't seem like you'd be good pet parents anyway.
Roxy was just around the corner. They couldn't see her. But she heard every word. If they weren't interested in a cat, she wasn't going to just stand there while they wasted time, waiting for their movie to start at the nearby theatre. Those people could waste time somewhere else. This wasn't a train station, after all. She'd run across this before. And she wouldn't stand for it. Pasting a smile on her face, she rounded the corner.
"Well, have you folks decided which one you'd like to take home today?"
The shorthaired blonde woman appeared startled. Her husband frowned and said, "No. As I said before, we're just looking."
Roxy wasn't deterred. "But we're having a special today. Buy one get one free. You could go home today with two cats." She clapped her hands. "Sound like fun?"
He shook his head. "No. Thank you."
She stepped closer to them. "I'll even throw in some free litter and cat food." Raising her eyebrows, she stared at them.
The man lowered his eyebrows. He shook his head again.
"How about a lifetime supply of hairball ointment? Can never have too much, right? 'Cause cats do tend to upchuck when they over-groom. All over the house. It's not much fun to step in one of those piles, especially in bare feet. Squishing between your toes." They should be running for the door any minute now.
The man's face reddened. He grabbed hold of his son's hand, eyed his wife until she picked up their daughter, and stormed past Roxy. She stayed where she was until she heard the front door open and slam shut. She giggled. They had no idea how long she'd been in this business. And had no idea who they'd gone up against. Amateurs.
Come back real soon. Not!
****
Derek stood in a corner, just out of sight of Roxy. What was she doing? Spying on those people? After she'd talked to them, they'd almost run out of the building. Man, she must really like those cats. He didn't get it. How could anyone want to be around them all the time? If he had a choice, he sure wouldn't. Any other way out besides detention and he'd be all over it. Just the thought of touching one of them made him shake. Those teeth, those claws. Ripping his skin, making him hurt and bleed. Shivers rippled down his spine, and all the hair on his arms stood up. Grabbing his stomach, he breathed in through his nose. Oh man, don't lose it now! Don't get sick. It made him feel stupid how he'd acted around that cat. And in front of Roxy and Teresa Lynn. They probably thought he was so lame.
Man, how was he gonna do this? Sweat beaded on his forehead. Derek sighed. He had to do it, though. He'd screwed up and there was no getting out of it. If only it wasn't the thing he hated most. Being here would make his nightmares even worse. He wished his dad could hang around and be there with him. Maybe that would help a little.
****
At four o'clock, the door chime sounded. Roxy glanced up, expecting to see another prospective cat-parent. They'd had six already, not counting the obnoxious waiting-for-the-movie family. Instead, it was Max Weller. Roxy's heart did cartwheels. Good grief. She'd never reacted this strongly to a man. Ever. Was she so attention-starved she'd clamor after the first tall, gorgeous, brown-eyed, dimple-endowed man who came through the door? Apparently, yes. And her palms were sweaty again. Had she been deported back to seventh grade? Control yourself, Roxy, you're a big girl now.
"So how did Derek do? Everything okay?" Max asked.
At first, Max's scrumptiousness mesmerized Roxy. His huge brown eyes and deep dimples made his face almost impossible not to look at. He made her insides purr. Her mind was mushy cornflakes. Ah, she could stare at him all month. She sighed.
But wait a minute. She realized what had been bugging her all day since Derek's confession about his mom and the projectile cat. "Hey. Just where do you get off sending the poor boy to work here, of all places?" Putting her hands on her size-ten hips, her left foot tapped out a staccato beat.
Max's initial smile morphed into a frown. "What?"
"I mean, come on. His mom threw a cat on him, scaring him to death, and you bring him here? It's just plain cruel."
His eyes widened. "She t
hrew a…? Oh no." He ran a large hand over his face. "I didn't know."
"Please. Give me a break." Crossing her arms, she glared at him. Did he expect her to believe him? How could he not know? He was the boy's father, after all.
Max's eyes seemed incredibly sad as he gazed down at her. "Honest. I….She did a lot of rotten things, but Derek never told me about the cat."
"It's true. I never told him before."
Roxy and Max gazed toward the doorway where Derek stood. She hadn't realized he'd been standing there. How much had the poor kid heard? Her face heated up. Those stupid flappy lips of hers had worked overtime.
Max walked over to Derek and gazed down at his son, placing his hands on the boy's shoulders. "Why didn't you say something before coming here?"
"This was the only choice besides detention. And besides, I screwed up so royally I didn't want to disappoint you again. I'm sorry, Dad." Derek's eyes clouded with tears.
Roxy glanced at Max. His eyes were the same. She felt like used, stinky, needed-cleaned-four-days-ago kitty litter. Nothing like making an idiot of herself. Holding up her hand, she said, "Listen Max—"
He shook his head. "It's okay. Believe me, there's no way you could have known. Besides, I'm just so appreciative you've agreed to help us. You'll never know how much. Right, Derek?"
Derek shrugged. "Even though I scooped cat poop all day."
Max laughed, a big loud sound which reverberated around the room. "Gee, sounds like fun."
"You could do it all day, too, Dad."
Max raised his dark eyebrows. "You know, you're right. What a great idea."
Roxy felt confused, and it must have showed on her face because Max explained. "I'm a basketball coach and teacher at the high school. Since I'm not teaching summer school this year, I do have a lot of free time on my hands. Not every day, but most. Mind some more help?"
"Sure," she said. "Great. We can always use extra paws around here. Plus, it will give you and Derek more time together, right?"
Max nodded and glanced at his son. "Yes, we haven't had much time, have we Derek? I could sure use a lot more time with you."
For the first time all day, the boy's mouth turned up at the corners. Just a little. Maybe there was hope for him after all.
Astraea Press
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Cats and Cowboys Page 7
