AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Sorry, buddy,” I say, scratching her softly between the ears. “Got distracted for a minute.” I cock my head, watching the small cat pant. “So, what’s the story? Are you the real Clyde, and you’ve been a girl the whole time? Or did Wimpy steal the wrong cat?”
Clyde emits a deep belch followed by a pitiful meow that becomes a hiss and a swipe at my arm.
I pull back, holding my hands up in surrender. “Message received. I get it. I don’t like anyone touching me when I have a stomachache, let alone what you’re going through. Just hang tight, we’ll make sure you get the help you need.” I type “emergency vet” into the open search engine on my phone and see we’re only about ten miles from a well-reviewed facility—one of the benefits of being in a bigger city.
Another benefit is that this area has a much higher elevation than Bad Dog. Despite the rain continuing to fall in sheets outside the window, there are no flood warnings anywhere around the hotel. We’ll get soaked to the bone if we have to take Clyde to the vet, but we won’t run the risk of getting swept off the road.
Unfortunately, it looks like the folks back home aren’t getting as lucky.
As a familiar reporter’s face appears on the screen, I grab the remote and turn up the volume.
It’s Dipsy Dobbs, my cousin and cheery “girl on the street” junior reporter. Dipsy is twenty-three, with the red hair and freckles most commonly seen in my Aunt Margie’s family. She usually reports on the apple pie bake-offs in the summer or ice-fishing in the winter, low-key local color stuff. She dresses in ridiculous “small-town” outfits—overalls with gingham or a giant flannel parka with fish patches—and spends most segments grinning like she just escaped from a 1950’s print ad.
This is the first time I’ve seen my cousin in something as normal as a heavy-duty black raincoat or looking this serious.
“Thanks, Jarod, yes, that’s right,” Dipsy says, accepting the hand off from the anchor sitting at his cozy desk back in the newsroom. She stands in front of a bridge that’s nearly underwater, blocked by a barricade with flashing red lights spinning in the gloom behind her. She squints into the rain as she adds, “Bad Dog emergency services personnel are asking that local residents stay off the roads and do their Black Friday shopping from the comfort of their homes this year. The floodwaters are rising faster than anyone expected, and as you can see, many local roadways are already impassable.”
She pauses to motion to the scene behind her before turning back to the camera. “This is the most rain Bad Dog has received in a single system in the town’s recorded history. We’re used to snowstorms around here, Jarod, but not this much of the wet stuff. Officials are worried citizens might not recognize the danger. That’s why the fire chief is calling for mandatory evacuations of residents in the Happy Valley subdivision and is considering broader evacuations of other lakeside communities if this system doesn’t move on soon.”
“And where can locals get more information on those evacuations, Dipsy? As well as resources for those already displaced from their homes?” Jarod asks, his dark brows pinched in a polished news anchor’s performance of concern.
As Dipsy gives out the address for the town’s website and an emergency number to call for the most recent updates, Nora rushes back into the room. “Okay, I spoke to Starling. She said Clyde should be fine to deliver here, but she gave me a few warning signs to watch for. If we see any of those, we should take her to a vet.”
“I found an emergency animal hospital,” I say, lifting my phone. “Ten miles away. Great reviews.”
Nora’s shoulders sag as her breath rushes out. “Oh good. What a relief. Now, we need to find a box or something that we can line with newspaper in case things get messy with the birth.”
I cast a meaningful glance toward the bed and the red stain beneath Clyde’s fluffy bottom. “I think things have already gotten messy, but you’re right, I’m sure they can always get worse.”
Nora makes a concerned sound. “Poor thing. She’s really going through it. It must be getting close. I’ll dash down to the main conference room. I saw some empty cardboard boxes in there from the books they’re giving away at the luncheon. Then I’ll swing by the front desk and get a newspaper. Do you think you can find a dark blanket or towel to put over the top? Starling said most cats like to give birth in a place that feels cozy and dark, like a cave, and all the towels in the bathroom are white.”
“I’ll check the store in the lobby. It looked like they had a few souvenir type things in addition to food and toiletries.” I stand, grabbing my wallet from the bureau and tucking it into my back pocket. “Hopefully they’ll have an ‘I Love Minnesota’ fleece blanket or something.”
“Perfect,” she says, fluttering her fingers at Clyde. “We’ll be right back, sweet thing. Don’t worry. You’re not alone. And don’t have those babies yet. We’ll have your kittening box ready in no time.”
She joins me as I head through the narrow hall and into the living room/kitchenette, hooking her arm through mine as I stop beside the door to step into my shoes. “They shouldn’t mind parting with a box, right?” she asks, sliding into her purple pumps, which miraculously still seem to fit, even with her giant fluffy socks still on. “Especially if I tell them that it’s for a good cause.”
I pause, grinning down at her.
She blinks. “What?”
“You aren’t wearing pants,” I say, nodding toward her bare legs. “Or a bra, not that I’m complaining.”
She glances down at herself with a breathy laugh. “Shit. I totally forgot. I was so swept up in the excitement.” She looks back at me, biting her lip. “I almost went into that conference room wearing nothing but your shirt, panties, and an unfortunate sock and pump combo.”
“Well, if you had, at least they’d feel certain our marriage is on the right track,” I say, making her snort with amusement. “I’m sure Patrick would be especially proud.” My eyes narrow. “And eager to check you out.”
“Ugh,” she says, rolling her eyes. “He was way too touchy feely for a therapist type. And in a sexist way. I mean, if he was going to fondle my hand, he should have fondled yours too. That’s only fair. I’m sorry if he made you feel left out.”
“He made me feel like punching him in the face.”
Her smile widens. “Yeah? Do you punch people in the face a lot, Matty McGuire? Or do I simply bring out the savage in you?”
“You bring out all kinds of things in me.” I draw her close, pressing a kiss to her forehead before I add in a whisper, “Like my inner disciplinarian. You’d better not run down to the front desk like that, or you really will be a filthy girl. And you know what happens to them.”
She pulls back to meet my gaze with an expression that’s scandalized but intrigued. “I can’t. Can I? I mean, there aren’t many people in the lobby usually, but the conference room will be packed.” She glances at the clock on the microwave across the room. “They’ll have just finished up lunch and be getting ready for the afternoon keynote before they split up into small groups again.”
I dip my lips to hover near her ear as I whisper, “That’s whyI’llgo get the box and the blanket. You get the newspaper and try not to get caught by anyone but the woman at the front desk and me.”
