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“In a minute,” Tracy said. “I just talked to your dad. He won’t be here until sometime after lunch. Wouldn’t you like to put some of your new play clothes on now? We could play in the snow after we eat, unless you’d rather stay in and make cookies.”
She shook her tiara-crowned head. “I want to see the surprise now.”
“All right. Just follow me.” Tracy led the way to the laundry room door at the end of the hall. “Go on in,” she said, opening the door. “Climb on the chair and look down into that big box.”
Lifting the skirt of her princess gown, she put a foot on the cross brace of the chair and climbed onto the seat. Her breath caught as she saw the kittens in the box.
“Oh . . .” she whispered. “Can I hold them?”
“Is the mother cat with them?” Tracy asked.
“She is. She’s feeding her babies.” Clara giggled. “Oh, they’re so cute! They’re doing this with their little paws.” She made kneading motions with her fingers.
“Let’s leave the kittens until they’ve finished eating,” Tracy said. “Then you can take them out of the box and hold them. For now, let’s have some lunch. Do you like grilled cheese sandwiches?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Come on
, you can help me make them.”
Clara climbed down from the chair and followed Tracy into the kitchen. “Do the kittens have names?” she asked.
“Not yet. Would you like to name them?” Tracy pulled a stool close to the counter and boosted her onto it.
“Can I really name them?” She spread soft butter on the bread slices Tracy had laid out.
“You can name them for now. When they go to new homes, their new owners might want to choose their own names.”
“When do they go to new homes?”
“Not yet. They still need their mother. But in a couple of weeks, when they’re old enough to eat solid food, they’ll be ready to go.”
“That’s so sad. Won’t their mom miss them?” Clara helped Tracy lay the cheese slices on the bread.
“Maybe for a little while,” Tracy said. “But she’ll be all right. Mother cats don’t keep their babies a long time like people do.”
“What’s the mom’s name?” Clara watched Tracy lay the sandwiches on the heated skillet.
“She doesn’t have a name. I just call her Mama Cat.”
“But why doesn’t she have a name?”
“Because I don’t plan to keep her after her babies are gone.”
Clara looked shocked. “But that would be mean, just to put her out.... She’d be so sad. And she might be hungry and cold.”
Tracy was beginning to feel like a monster. Clara was right. She hadn’t wanted a cat, but the sweet calico mother had found a home with her.
“You’ve got to keep her,” Clara said as Tracy turned the sandwiches with a spatula.
“I know.” Tracy sighed as one more chink opened in the armor she’d placed around her heart. “As long as she’s going to be mine, would you like to give her a name, too? A for-keeps name this time.”
Clara grinned and nodded. “Don’t worry, I’ll come up with a good one.”
Tracy cut the sandwiches into triangles, put them on a plate, and poured two glasses of milk. Life was full of surprises. Just like that, because of a little girl’s wisdom, a needy stray cat had become family.
When she’d agreed to help Rush and his daughter, she’d sensed that she was putting her fragile emotions at risk. Now that she’d learned the truth about their tragic relationship, those emotions were threatening to wash through her defenses and sweep her away.
