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He sets the cat carrier on the couch and turns to his mom. “I’m Miles, your son.”
“My oldest.” She says it like she’s reciting facts.
“That’s right. And this is Kitty, my girlfriend. Prince Francis has been staying with her since you moved.”
Her attention shifts to me. “Thank you for taking care of him for me. Prince Francis and Miles.”
For some reason those words choke me up. Maybe it’s her sad smile, or the soft knowing in her eyes as she looks between us.
“It’s absolutely my pleasure. But I like to think we all take care of each other.”
“That’s how love should be.” Tabitha opens the cage, and Prince Francis pokes his head out, peeking around before he deems it safe to come out. “Isn’t this a cute sweater!” It has MOMMA’S BOY written across the back. She picks him up and nuzzles him, and he rubs his face on her cheek, then licks the edge of her jaw.
“I missed you too, my sweet, sweet boy. I hope you’re not giving Miss Kitty any trouble.”
“He’s been great. He’s very interested in the squirrels in our backyard. Spends a lot of his day on the windowsill, wishing he could join them, or use them as toys.”
Tabitha chuckles. “Can I get either of you something to drink? I can make tea and put out some cookies.”
“Why don’t you let me do that, and you and Miles can sit and chat?” I suggest.
“That would be great. Thank you.” Miles kisses my temple, and I set about putting the kettle on while they get comfortable in the living room.
Prince Francis settles in her lap immediately, and she strokes his back and rubs under his chin while she and Miles talk. She shows him her schedule and how she marks every task when it’s done. And that there are a lot of people who have the same problem she does, so they understand what it’s like to be forgetful. “We put our contact information in each other’s phones with our room numbers and a picture so when I’m having trouble remembering someone, it’s easier to find the information.”
She shows Miles her phone and he scrolls through her contacts. “This is great. Who’s Allen, and why does he have a gold star beside his name?”
Tabitha scrolls through his information, reading it to Miles. “He’s a friend. He’s older and a widower. He lost his son in a car accident.” There’s a pause and I look over my shoulder. I can see that she’s squinting at the screen. “I lost my son too. Toby.”
“That’s right, Mom. When he was eight.”
“And you’re Miles. My oldest.”
“I am.”
My chest tightens at his sad smile, and I have to fight with my emotions to keep them in check. He’s so patient with her, repeating the same thing when she loses her train of thought. I stay busy in the kitchen, taking my time with the tea. Eventually I join them in the living room, setting tea and biscuits on the coffee table. I take the spot beside Miles and adjust the pillows, which is when I notice the crocheted cat beside it. I pick it up and turn it over. It looks exactly like Prince Francis. “Who made this little guy?”
Tabitha keeps petting Prince Francis. “They have all kinds of classes here. One of my friends made it for me.” She pauses, maybe searching for a name, but shakes her head and continues. “I used to crochet when I was younger, but I can’t remember how anymore. She knows I’ve been missing Prince Francis, so she made me one.”
“I’ll have to bring him by for visits more often.” I feel bad that I haven’t been able to make it here sooner. Miles has been visiting regularly, though.
“That would be great.” She scratches behind his ear. “I miss his company.”
After we finish our tea, Tabitha offers to take us on a tour and introduce us to all her friends.
“Should we leave Prince Francis here?” Miles asks.
“I have his harness, if it’s okay with the staff.”
“Harness?” Miles’s brow quirks up.
“Yup, I have a harness and leash for him. I started training as soon as he moved in with me,” I tell him.
“You mean a harness and a leash? Like a dog?”
“Basically, yes.” I’m unsurprised by his surprise.
Most cats have the same reaction to a harness at first. They fall over and lie there dejectedly until someone takes it off. But over time they get used to it, and Prince Francis has been great about wearing his when I take him into the yard to run around. We have a cat run set up between the trees so he can frolic around and chase after the annoyed squirrels and birds.
“Why don’t you let me check with the staff.”
Miles calls the front desk and gets a thumbs-up, so I get Prince Francis ready. And just like a dog would, he trots beside us to the common room, where we meet Tabitha’s friends. Prince Francis steals the show, though, climbing into laps and spreading his kitty love.
