“It’s nothing personal,” she told it, even though it was hard to sound genuine with the fresh scratches on her hands. “I don’t live here. I can’t keep you. I’m sure Myrtle will be able to find a better home for you.”
The sound the cat made as Julie lifted the carrier was a cross between a hiss and a grumble. She slammed the truck door, locked it out of habit, and marched to the animal shelter door.
A bell chimed as she stepped inside. A mat on the floor read Keep Your Paws Clean. She stamped the snow off her feet as she looked around. The front of the shelter was tiny, intimate. A long counter separated the front room, with only a single waiting chair, from the back, where the animals were presumably held. The open archway led to a warmly lit hallway with swags of evergreens along the top of the walls. It smelled Christmassy in here, probably due to the red candle burning low on the countertop. She didn’t see or hear anyone, but Myrtle—or someone who worked for her—must be here.
“Hello?” Julie called.
A door opened and shut farther back in the shelter, and an old woman bustled into the hall. She moved slowly, but not in a way that indicated her health was in decline, and was still trim. She wore a red-and-green Christmas sweater with Rudolph in the center, complete with a red pom-pom for a nose. Julie wouldn’t be caught dead in something like that, but it made her smile all the same.
“Myrtle?” She barely remembered Gram’s friend—it had been so long since she’d visited Pinecone Falls. It didn’t help that Myrtle had changed over the years as she grew into her late seventies, her hair turning a stately gray and her face and hands collecting wrinkles. Those wrinkles deepened around her mouth and eyes as she smiled.
“Why, Julie Green, it can’t be. You look so grown up!”
I’m over thirty, Julie wanted to point out, but she didn’t get the chance before she was pulled into a tight hug that left her breathless. She returned it more gently, even though it was clear the old woman was far from frail.
Myrtle pulled away, shorter than Julie by a head and beaming. “Your gram told me you’d be coming to town. So nice of you to think to stop in to see me.”
Guilt wormed its way into Julie’s stomach. She’d forgotten these small-town rules of etiquette where everyone knew everyone else, and one was expected to stop and say hello to people your grandparents knew and who you’d only seen years ago. She didn’t want Myrtle to think she’d only come to drop off the cat, so she said, “You look good.”
“Oh, pish,” Myrtle said with a fling of her hand through the air. “I’m an old woman, and I know it. But you—you’re in the prime of your life! And the spitting image of your gram when she was your age. Tell me, do you have a husband yet?”
Oh, yes. The other reason Julie didn’t want to make the rounds in town. This question. She gritted her teeth through a smile. “I haven’t had time, what with focusing on my career.” A career that was floundering now that she had been laid off.
She changed the subject before Myrtle could tell her something like,You don’t have forever.Dating hadn’t been a big priority for her. Not to say that she hadn’t dated—she had—but it had always been secondary to building herself the kind of life she wanted. That meant a steady job she liked, someday a house, and if she met the right person…
Julie cleared her throat and lifted the cat carrier. “Actually, while I’m here, I was hoping to leave this cat with you? I found him inside the inn.”
Myrtle peered into the carrier and clucked at the cat. “You’re a pretty one, aren’t you?” Then the wrinkles at the corners of Myrtle’s eyes deepened, this time with pity. “I’m sorry, though. The shelter is at full capacity.”
Julie couldn’t have heard right. She thrust the carrier toward the old woman. “Please, you have to take it. I don’t live here, so I can’t keep it. And it’s mean.”
Myrtle’s mouth twitched. “It?” She opened the carrier and took out the cat. Of course, it acted perfectly affectionate, sinking into Myrtle’s arms while shooting an angry glare at Julie. Myrtle stroked the cat a few times then held it up to look underneath before gently putting it back into the carrier. The cat never even attempted to scratch the older woman.
“It’s not an ‘it.’ The cat is ahe,” Myrtle said. “And he doesn’t seem mean at all.”
Of course he didn’t, not to Myrtle. Not loving the idea of having to deal with this murderous cat for nine more days, Julie begged, “Surely you can find room for one little cat. He seems well-fed, and his family is probably looking for him”
“Don’t think so. Folks come here first thing a pet is missing. No one has come about a cat.”
“It’s a good idea to have him here for when they do come, though,” Julie suggested.
Her stomach sank like a stone as Myrtle shook her head. “I can’t. I just don’t have the room. If I were to take him, I’d have to euthanize one of the cats already here.”
Euthanize!
Instinctively, Julie jerked the cat carrier away from the old woman. The cat inside hissed his displeasure. She almost thrust it back, but the thought of handing him off just to be killed—or worse, for a perfectlynicecat to be killed in his place—made her cold. She might not like this cat, but she couldn’t consign him to death. She wasn’t a monster.
Weakly, Julie tried one last time. “Can’t you put two cats in together?”
In this, Myrtle was firm. “No can do. Not all cats get along, and those are tight spaces to begin with. They could injure each other! So, either you hold on to the cat until I have an opening, or I’ll have to send for the vet to euthanize the cat that’s been here the longest.” After a moment’s pause, Myrtle added, “That would be Gracie. Sweet thing. Missing most of her teeth but loves to cuddle.”
It sounded to Julie like Myrtle was trying to get her to exchange this cat for a second one. She sighed. “I’ll keep the cat. But please, you have to call me the second you have an opening or if her owners come in.” She searched through her pockets until she found an old receipt that she could write her number down on. As she scrawled on the back of it using one of Myrtle’s pens, the old woman babbled.
“I’m sure this guy is really a sweetheart deep down. He’s probably just had a fright. And they respond to hostility, you know. If you approach him kindly, I’m sure you’ll have no trouble. You could try visiting Pinecone Falls Pets to buy him a toy or two to keep him busy. That ought to calm him down.”
If Julie was going to hold on to the cat until there was an opening at the shelter, she would need cat food. Even she knew that she couldn’t keep feeding donuts to the darn thing. Resigned, she mustered some semblance of a smile and told Myrtle, “I’ll do that.” What else could she say?
She broughtthe carrier back out to the truck and deposited it onto the passenger seat again. This time, she leaned down to look the cat in the eye. “I guess we’ll be hanging around together for a bit, after all. No more scratching, okay?”
