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“My heart hurts for all of you.” Kitty reaches over and gives my hand a gentle squeeze before she puts it back on the wheel and signals left into my mother’s subdivision. “Your mom told me a bit about what happened that day.”
The flashes of memory are hard to handle, and I swallow down the pain.
“She remembered that Toby was gone?”
“For a few minutes she seemed . . . clear? Like she knew what was real and what was the past. She admitted that she forgot things a lot, and she remembered losing Toby and how hard it was on you.” She pulls into my mother’s driveway and shifts the car into park, cutting the engine. “From my own experience, and from hearing more than one side of yours, it’s easy to get caught in the fantasy of what if things had been different and live there.”
I nod, absorbing her words. “That’s it exactly. I want to go back and change the past, but I can’t. And the way my family imploded after that was more than I could handle. I believed I was the reason it happened. And no matter how hard I try, it’s difficult not to feel that way still.” And in that moment, I see the truth in that statement. That my ignoring my brother and my mom’s request to watch him is the reason we lost him.
“Tragedy can tear people apart, inside and out,” Kitty says softly. “You just have to find a way to let it go so you can heal from it.”
Prince Francis stretches out and settles a paw on my shoulder, headbutting my face and licking my ear while meowing plaintively.
I chuckle, glad for the levity, and give his head a brief scratch.
“Do you have to go back to the city, or do you want to come inside?” Kitty inclines her head toward the house. “Or does it hold too many sad memories tonight?”
“I can handle the memories.” I don’t want to leave now, not when it feels like Kitty and I are closer than ever.
I gather up Prince Francis, who surprisingly doesn’t try to jump out of my arms, and we head inside.
“Should I make us some tea?” Kitty asks once we’re standing in the mostly packed living room.
“Maybe we can see if there’s something stronger hanging around?”
“Oh sure. I think I remember seeing brandy in the pantry. Let’s check.” I follow Kitty to the kitchen, and she opens the pantry door and pulls on the string dangling from the ceiling, the bare bulb lighting up the small space.
There are plenty of canned goods and cat treats. Prince Francis winds between our legs, meowing insistently. I spot a bottle of brandy and another of vodka, both on the top shelf, covered in a thin layer of dust. I pluck them from the shelf and Kitty grabs the dry food.
“I’m not sure what we have to mix this stuff with,” I admit as I set them on the counter and open the fridge. “Ah! There’s grapefruit juice and—” I frown and pull an old-school clear Tupperware jug that I remember from my childhood and hold it up for Kitty to see. “This looks suspiciously like Tang.”
Kitty’s cheeks flush and she ducks her head. “That’s because it is Tang. Don’t judge me. It’s a guilty pleasure.”
“I’m not knocking your Tang love. I’m the guy who orders the orange drink from McDonald’s on purpose.” I motion to the selection on the counter and pull two glasses from the cupboard. “What juice and booze combo would you prefer?”
“Tang and brandy?” It’s more question than a definitive answer.
“How about I make one of each, and you can taste them both before you decide?”
“Sure. Sounds good.”
Prince Francis yowls at her from the floor, his brow furrowed in displeasure because his wet food dish is empty. Kitty opens a new can of wet food, spoons half of it on his plate, and puts the rest in the fridge.
Once I’ve made two very stiff drinks, Kitty tastes them both and chooses the Tang and brandy combination, I down my Tang and vodka and make myself a second one before we head to the living room.
I purposely sit between two cushions, and Kitty drops down beside me, folding her legs under her so her feet rest against the side of my leg. “I didn’t understand how bad things were with your mother until today,” she admits.
“Neither did I. It’s sort of been triage up to this point. I was struggling with the decision of putting her in a home, but after today I know it’s the right move,” I admit.
“She’ll be safe there. Did you find out what happened that she managed to get out undetected?”
“Apparently she timed her departure with shift change and walked right out the front doors. By the time they realized she was gone, she was already on her way here.”
