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Her living room is quiet, and this couch is very comfortable.
When I wake up, the chair across from me is empty, and the sun filters through the front windows. I have a headache from lack of sleep, and search for my phone to see what time it is. My eyes pop open when I discover it’s nearly nine a.m. Noelle will be home soon, and if I’m not there she’ll worry, and I don’t want to have to explain why I wasn’t.
Shuffling into the bathroom I try to comb through my messy hair, made worse by having fallen asleep while it was still wet. Poking my head out of the bathroom, knowing Georgie is up because I can smell fresh coffee brewing, I yell down the hall, “Mind if I use your toothbrush?” My mouth feels dry and gross.
“There’s an extra one in the cabinet,” she yells back.
Pulling it open, I sift through deodorant tubes, perfumes, floss, and finally find a couple of brand-new toothbrushes with her dentist's name printed on them.
With the toothbrush stuck in my mouth, Georgie enters the bathroom, hugging a tiny white kitten close to her chest. It mewls incessantly, and I wonder why I didn’t hear it earlier, only now realizing it’s probably the reason why Georgie was up at three a.m. when she noticed my car parked outside.
“Who is this little guy?” I melt at the sight of him, petting his soft fur with my finger.
“It’s a she, and I’m fostering these little guys until they’re big enough to be adopted,” Georgie says, looking down at the kitten who paws at her shirt, mouth open as if she’s looking for food.
“I thought you were a dog person,” I comment, turning back to the sink and spitting out the toothpaste.
“I am now an equal opportunity animal person,” she says. “Hamsters are growing on me, even the ones that bite.”
“Don’t let Noelle see this one. She’ll hound me for eternity to take one home.” I give her one last scratch on the head.
“Take one, it’s yours. I’ll even let you skip the adoption paperwork,” Georgie says, seriously.
“Clearly you’re never allowed to talk to Noelle again,” I reply sarcastically, following her back into the kitchen where I pour myself a cup of fresh coffee.
“Seriously, you need a pet,” she says, leaning against the counter, now dressed in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt.
“I’m not home enough to take care of a pet,” I tell her.
“For Noelle,” Georgie counters, while preparing kitten food.
“She’s going to be leaving for college in a year, and then I’ll be stuck with it.” I take a sip of my coffee, savoring the caffeine now flowing through my system.
“Would that be so bad?” Georgie asks as she pushes the laundry room door open further, exposing a crate.
“Yes,” I grumble, noticing three more kittens in the crate mewling for food. I watch as she feeds them with a syringe. When their tummies are full, the mewling subsides, and they all curl up together in the corner of the crate.
“I’m surprised you don’t have a houseful of kittens.” I smile at her over the steam in my coffee cup while taking a seat at her kitchen table.
“They’re cute but a lot of work. By the time they’re old enough to be adopted, I’ve had my fill. Besides, then I get to open my home to another set that needs help,” she says, taking the seat opposite me and crossing her legs.
“You’re really enjoying your second life, huh?” That’s what she called it when she made the decision to leave corporate life behind and pursue something that made her feel fulfilled.
“It has its difficulties,” she says, pressing her lips together.
Checking the time on her microwave, I realize how late it is. “Shit, I should get going,” I say and take another sip of my coffee before dumping the rest in the sink.
When I turn around, Georgie is leaning against the counter looking at me thoughtfully. I know that look and she might not have passed judgment on me last night when I was emotional, but I am fully recovered this morning.
“You know that I only want happiness for you, right?” she asks.
“But…” I continue for her.
“I wish you would open yourself to someone, let them in for real, and not just a random one-night stand.”
Taking a deep breath, I know what she says is true. I haven’t let many people into my life, and that’s by choice. It’s not just me that I have to think about, it’s Noelle too.
“By the way, I don’t plan on having anymore random hook-ups,” I say, and instead of telling me what I already know, she steps forward, pulling me into a hug.
