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“What’s more, your decision couldn’t have come at a better time,” Eric put in. “Because Fuzzy’s not the only one who’s going to be busy with a new charge.”
“What do you mean?” Noelle asked.
With a secret smile, Brigitte rose. “That’s right. I almost forgot about your birthday gift.” So saying, she scooted off to a shadowed corner of the outer chamber. An instant later, she reappeared, a small wire crate in her hands. “Happy birthday, Noelle.”
From within the crate, a golden kitten with huge dark eyes stared out.
“A cat! A real cat!” Noelle snatched the crate, yanking open the door and lifting out her new prize. “What’s his name?”
“Her name,” Eric corrected. “She’s your kitten. You choose.”
“She looks just like Fuzzy!”
On the heels of her words, the kitten—realizing she was free—sprang to life, bounding to the floor and tearing off. Toys flew everywhere, boxes tipped over, and the side table wobbled precariously as she slammed into its legs.
“She might look like Fuzzy, but she behaves like you,” Eric observed dryly.
“I know! I’ll call her Tempest!”
“An excellent choice, Noelle.” Brigitte was laughing so hard she could scarcely speak.
“Tempest—come here,” Noelle commanded.
In response, Tempest tossed them an insolent look, then sprang onto the side table and shimmied up the tree, knocking down one ornament after another as she climbed. Halfway to the top—and evidently satisfied with her level of destruction—she stopped, curling up on a branch and peering at them through arrogant, half-closed eyes.
“Aren’t you going to chest-ize her?” Noelle demanded, turning to her new parents.
“No, Noelle.” Eric gave a resigned sigh, resting his chin atop Brigitte’s head. “Experience tells me Tempest is beyond re-damn-sin.”
