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He must have liked the answer, because his face instantly brightened. “That makes sense! How does the dryer work?”

“A little the same way,” I answered. “But instead of water, hot air blows into the machine as it spins the laundry.”

“Why isn’t there a machine for folding the laundry?”

The speed with which he kept lobbing questions at me made my head spin.

“I’m not sure. That would be nice, though. Maybe when you grow up, you can invent one?”

“Nuh-uh.” Merry shook his head vehemently, then stopped short, frowning again. “Unless lion vets can invent machines for laundry.”

“Lion vet, huh? That’s a pretty cool career option. Though I think they might call them big-cat vets because they also work on panthers and tigers.”

“Nope. I’m just going to take care of lions. I don’t like those other ones,” Merry said confidently.

I grinned at him. “Sounds like a big job. But maybe in the meantime, you could help me with the laundry a bit?”

“Sure!” he cried, jumping to his feet and bouncing over to the basket I’d just pulled toward me. “What do you need help with? I can carry things for you. I have really big muscles!” he cried proudly, holding up his arm and yanking his T-shirt sleeve up so I could admire his nonexistent bicep.

“Oh my! Put those guns away! You could hurt someone!” I said, hopefully sounding sufficiently impressed. “No muscles needed for this. Can you maybe just hand me the towels in this basket so I can fold them?” I pointed at the basket I’d just pulled off the machine.

“Sure!” he cried, throwing himself into the task with the kind of enthusiasm I could barely muster for tasks I enjoyed. “Here you go!”

He tossed me a small hand towel and was already grabbing the next one on the stack before I caught it.

“Hey! What are you doing in there?” Merry cried, looking both surprised and delighted. “Look, Meg!”

Please don’t let it be a mouse, I begged the Universe silently. I’d barely recovered from the frog incident. My ego couldn’t take another humiliation like that.

“What’d you find?” I asked, keeping my voice steady as I leaned over his shoulder and peeked into the basket, where Pipsqueak was curled into a tight ball in a nest of clean towels, fast asleep and oblivious to the commotion.

“What’s she doing in there?” Merry whispered loud enough to wake the dead, his chin resting on his pudgy little hands as they gripped the edge of the basket.

“I guess it was nice and warm,” I answered. “And maybe it felt super safe because she was all covered up and out of reach up on the machine. The perfect spot for a little nap.”

Grinning, Merry reached into the basket to caress her head with a surprisingly light touch. “Safe little kitty, all warm in her basket.”

“Nice job, Merry,” I said, running my hand over his head. “I bet she really likes how gentle you’re being with her.”

As if she heard me or was finally deigning to acknowledge our presence, Pipsqueak stretched languidly, her body unfurling into a reverse arch as she threw open her mouth into a head-splitting yawn. Then, as if she had all the time in the world—which I guess a seven-pound cat with no job technically did—she sat up to groom herself.

Merry glanced up at me, his eyes shining with delight and wonder.

“Oh!” he gasped. “Maybe I can be a cat when I grow up instead of a lion vet!”

I laughed. “Anything is possible, but that might be a bit challenging. But you could always be a regular cat vet.”

Frowning, Merry shook his head. “I don’t think I would like that very much.” He brightened. “I think I’ll just be a cat!” Letting out a tiny meow, he dropped to all fours. In an instant, he was at the base of the steps, where he turned and meowed at me again. “That means I’m going to go tell Daddy!”

“Great idea,” I replied with another laugh. “I bet he’ll love that plan.”

Pipsqueak scowled at me when I bent to grab another towel to fold and hopped out of the basket in a graceful leap. She bounded up the stairs ahead of Merry, who meowed after her something that I assumed meant, “Wait for me!” because he scrambled to his feet to run up the stairs after her.

Just as suddenly as my solitude had been invaded, it was returned to me. But the peace and quiet was suddenly less appealing than when I’d first headed downstairs.

NINETEEN

The shop is looking great!