“Fat ones do,” I mutter. “Trust me. What I heard was the sound of cartilage begging for mercy.”
She tries not to laugh, but her smile slips out anyway. “You’re being a tad dramatic.”
“Am I? Look at him. The bastard is wheezing just sitting down. And don’t pretend you can’t hear it. And it’s not asthma, don’t even think about lending him your inhaler. What you’re hearing is the beginning of a death rattle.”
She shakes her head. “Aww, poor kitty. Be nice.”
“He looks like a beanbag with legs.”
This time, her shoulders shake with silent laughter, and I try to stop the grin curving my lips, but it’s futile.
“Maybe he’s hungry. I should feed him.”
“No,” I grumble, tightening my grip on her hand when she tries to turn and leave. “If you do that, he’ll never go.”
“Should I bring him inside? Maybe he’s cold; it looks cloudy and miserable out there.”
“Not happening.”
“I might go and spend some time with him. He’s probably lonely and in need of some loving.”
I’m in need of some loving, too; maybe I should curl up on her windowsill like a giant, emotionally constipated cat and see how far that gets me.
Emily’s been outside for over an hour. After slipping back into her room to change, she coaxed Fat Cat off the windowsill.
I should have gone back to bed as planned, but I don’t move. I can’t. I’m still here, watching from the shadows.
A smile quirks at the corner of my lips every time she glances back at the house, making sure nobody’s watching, before she pulls another snack from her pocket and feeds him.
But despite the smile, I hate that he’s getting all her attention. God, I sound like the cat, needy and fucking desperate. Maybe that’s the point. I’m the one now stuck on the sidelines, waiting for someone like her to care.
I’m pulled from my thoughts when I hear Lil’ Peach over the monitor. Moving towards the chest of drawers, I pull out a pair of sweats and slip into them before going to get her.
“Hey, baby girl,” I say when I find her standing at the side of her cot. She’s getting too big for this thing; maybe it’s time for a big girl bed.
I’m grinning as I approach, and she reaches for me with her tiny hands. Peach gave me my life back, a family, and a reason to want to come home.
“Emmy,” I hear her mumble as she buries her face in my chest.
It’s been the two of us for the past three years, and it’s always felt like enough until recently, when it began feeling like it wasn’t. It’s not just me who’s craving more, I want it for my baby girl, too.
“Emily’s outside with Fat Cat.”
“Fat Cat,” she repeats.
Instead of plopping her down in front of the television while I put milk in her sippy cup, I find myself heading for the back door.
Chapter 30
Emily
This morning, after breakfast, the three of us piled into the car. Peach jabbered happily in the back seat, while I tried not to laugh at Dominic’s grumbling.
I’m not sure if his grouchiness is due to lack of sleep from Babooshka or because we’re heading to the shops. He decided out of the blue that his niece’s cot was suddenly too small for her. I agree, but I never voiced that out loud. So we are heading to the furniture store to buy her a big girl bed.
He did mention asking Lucia to order one online, but I was the one who suggested it would be nice if Peach got to pick her own.
We arrive at the store, and Dominic immediately scoops Peach into his arms, holding her snug against his chest as we navigate through the aisles. She’s happily pointing at things and chattering nonstop, while Dominic grumbles under his breath about the size of this place.
