nowhere to go again. She had someone to care for now besides
herself. She would never let Mr. Pickles go back to the shelter.
He’d been so unhappy there, basically wasted away to skin
and bones. The life was totally gone out of him when she’d
gotten him, but since then, she’d earned his trust with pets,
scratches, and treats as bribery.
“Speaking of,” Dani said, sitting back down with the cat
balanced on her lap. “I’m just about out of food. Want to go
shopping?”
“Now?”
“Yup.” Dani glanced at the clock on the wall. She
remembered her mom having the same one when she was
little. She’d look up and see it on the wall so often. It was
brown and yellow, a seventies beast made from wood with
painted yellow flowers on the face. She’d looked everywhere
and finally, after searching online forever, she’d found one just
like the one her mom had. “You don’t leave the house after
eight ever?”
“It’s just not for grocery shopping.”
“When should said shopping be done, then? Some of us
work during the day.”
“Oh. Uh. Yeah. Right. Sure, I’ll go. If you want to.”
Dani privately thought it might be a good distraction. She
kept on stroking Mr. Pickles, not wanting to disturb him now
that she had him settled. He was just starting to get his rattly
old purr motor going. It sounded like tin cans being grated
over barbed wire. It was probably one of Dani’s favorite
sounds in the entire world.
“You could probably use the distraction,” she said, stroking
Mr. Pickles’s head. He leaned into her touch and turned his