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Hattie reaches over and squeezes my hand. “Well, I think bringing Prince Francis home was a small, cute step in the right direction. It’s a little change, but it’s still a change, Kitty.”
“Do you think by my not moving out or moving forward with my life, I’ve made it impossible for Mom to move on with hers, too?” I ask.
She’s quiet for a while. “No. You can only make your own choices, not other people’s. If anything, it’s symbiotic, and no one’s fault. But I do think that you’ve put yourself on hold for the sake of our family. You and Mom have a bit of a codependency thing going on. And when you’re comfortable with the way things are, it’s hard to see how change can be good. I’m not saying you need to up and walk away, but maybe it’s time for you to focus on your life, so you can both stand on your own a little more.”
“I’ve created this bubble of safety, and now I’m starting to feel trapped inside it.”
“Maybe it’s time to pop it, then.” Hattie gives my hand a squeeze. “You’re an amazing, selfless older sister, Kitty. You’ve been Mom’s helper since you were a kid. And we’re all used to you being that. It’s okay if you want to try on some new hats and see which ones fit better.”
chapter twenty
RIGHT MEOW
Kitty
Despite me telling Miles I can meet him at his mother’s place in the morning, he insists on picking me up. But he gives me a window of time, between seven-forty-two and seven-fifty-five. Which is oddly specific.
Despite this, when the doorbells rings, I’m still struggling my way into my shirt—it’s a new one that Hattie picked out for me yesterday on our shopping expedition—as I rush down the hall to the stairs.
“That’s for me! I can get it!” I shout. But I’m stuck in my shirt, my head apparently in a sleeve and my arm through the neck hole. I slam into the wall and fall on my butt with an oomph.
“I’ve got it!” Mom calls from the main floor.
My voice is muffled by my shirt, and I’m still trying to figure out how to right this wrong when I hear my mother’s high-pitched greeting and Miles’s deep voice filter up the stairs. I finally get my head out of the sleeve and my arm out of the neck hole, replacing one with the other. I smooth out my shirt and hop to my feet.
But I don’t take into account where I’ve ended up, which is at the top of the stairs. It also happens to be directly in line with the front door. And that means Miles has had a clear view of me struggling with my shirt. I’m about to take a step down, but Prince Francis appears between my legs, setting me off balance once again. He meows and launches himself down the steps. My heel hits the lip of the top stair. They’re polished hardwood and I’m wearing slippery socks, which means my heel slips out from under me and I don’t have time to grab the railing before I land on my ass and slide-bump my way down the entire flight. I land on the floor in a heap.
“Oh my gosh, are you okay?” Miles rushes over to help me.
“She’s just excited to see you!” my mom offers.
“I’m fine,” I mutter, accepting Miles’s extended hand. “Only my dignity is bruised. And maybe my butt.”
“I can check that later for you,” Miles whispers in my ear.
I blink a few times, not sure if I heard that correctly. When I meet his gaze, I can tell that I did, because his cheeks are turning pink.
“Why don’t you come in, Miles? It’s so lovely to finally meet you. Kitty’s told us all about you, but she didn’t mention how handsome you are.”
I want to tell my mom to tone it down, but I can’t do that without embarrassing her. And I think that my embarrassment plus Miles’s embarrassment is enough to fill this entire room.
And then my sister appears at the top of the stairs. “What’s all the racket about?” She’s wearing a pair of sleep shorts and a T-shirt with a smiling donut on it. Her hair is pulled up in a messy bun, and she has sleep lines on her face. Even half asleep, wearing jammies, my sister is runway ready.
“Kitty’s boyfriend is here!” Mom shouts joyously.
And the embarrassment keeps piling on.
I don’t even look at Miles, not wanting to see his expression right now.
Hattie’s eyes go wide, and she makes her oh-shit face, as her eyes dart from me to Miles and back to Mom. She must realize that she’s not dressed appropriately and shouts that she’ll be right back. I’m hoping we’ll be gone before that happens, so I can limit the amount of foot in mouth Miles is exposed to where my mother is concerned.
