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The peel of the doorbell startled her back to the present. She carefully set the picture back in its place on the side table and reluctantly walked over to the front door.
Rising on her tiptoes, Josie peered through the peephole and let out a groan. There was no mistaking the burgundy beehive or hacking cough. Aunt Beckett had arrived, and, Josie gulped, the old woman had a death grip on a violently shaking pet carrier. “Please don't be another cat,” she whispered.
“I can hear you, Josie,” Aunt Beckett wheezed, her heavily made-up face moving closer to the peephole. Josie took a faltering step backwards. “Might as well open the door... got a little something for ya.”
A groan vibrated in Josie’s throat. It was definitely a cat, probably a special needs one knowing Aunt Beckett. The seventy-five-year-old woman had a soft spot for cats most people wouldn’t attempt to take on, which wouldn’t be a problem if she took care of them herself; instead, she liked to pawn them off on Josie. “I can’t take another cat, Aunt Beckett," she said in place of a greeting as she swung open the heavy wooden front door.
“What’s one more?” The old lady wedged past, leaving the scent of cigarettes and expensive floral perfume in her wake.“Found the little guy in the parking lot of that quack your mother makes me go to for the diabetes.”
“Dr. Derek isn’t a quack,” Ruth called from the kitchen. “He’s one of the best doc-”
“He’s a quack. A bossy one at that. Always pestering me about my blood sugar and lecturing me about what I can and can’t eat. I’m old. Let me eat cake and die in peace.” The wrinkles around Aunt Beckett’s eyes deepened as her lips tipped into a smug grin. Without warning, she thrust the pet carrier into Josie’s hands. “Named him Derek after the quack. He’s only got one ear and can’t eat anything with chicken, or he gets the runs.”
“Aunt Beckett, no. I told you the last time I can’t-”
“One ear, Josie. He has one ear and gets the shits if he’s not fed the right food. Ain't nobody going to adopt an ugly cat with stomach trouble.”
Arguing was pointless. One Aunt Beckett decided something that was that, and she had decided years ago that cats were the perfect distraction for whenever something life altering went on in Josie’s life.
The first was a Cornish rex named Muffin. She had been this tiny alien-like creature with short, curly white fur and blue eyes that always seemed full of judgment. Josie hadn’t wanted much to do with the poor thing at first, but after Dirk “the Jerk” Jennings dumped her for some cheerleader two towns over, Muffin became the focus in her life.
Cats two and three had been a bonded pair of calico sisters named Pancake and Pickle, whose owner had passed away; keeping them from terrorizing Muffin had distracted her from how terrifying life was when her father was going through chemo. Number four, a white and black beast named Cupcake, had been a straight up guilt-trip.
‘Poor Cupcake is old and fat. Ain’t nobody going to adopt an old, fat cat Josie.’Even her mother had chimed in.‘Poor thing, at her age she deserves to live out the rest of her days in comfort, not locked in some plastic box watching people choose kittens.’
Now she had a parking lot cat that was missing an ear and had food allergies. With her luck, he would be as judgmental as the rest of her cats. The way they stared at her when she declined invitations to go out with friends was a bit creepy. She could almost hear them saying‘you need to get a life.’She had a life, thank you very much.
Maybe she didn’t own a dance studio like Kyle, but her TikTok dance videos brought in more money. Not that she would ever tell him or their mother that. “This is it. I mean it. No more.”
“If you say so.” Aunt Beckett trudged over to one of the brown leather wingback chairs that flanked either side of the fireplace. “When’s your brother getting here? Soon, I hope. It’s bingo night.”
“Not soon enough.” Josie sank into the chair opposite her great aunt, smiling as the old woman huffed. She could relate. The sooner Kyle and Jonas arrived, the sooner they made their announcement. The sooner they made their announcement, the sooner dinner could be served. The sooner dinner was served, the sooner Josie could say adios.
Aunt Beckett had unknowingly given her a built-in escape plan. One more Jealous Josie from her mother and she would pull the ‘oh I have to take my new cat home’ card. Kyle would understand, he knew what their mother was like.
Knowing him, he had an escape plan in place himself and would show up at her apartment with hard pear cider and the wedding binder that Josie was certain Jonas had already started.
Eyes narrowed; Aunt Beckett leaned forward. “Your mama isn’t cooking, is she?” Josie shook her head. “Thank the lord for small favors.”
Small favors were all well and good if they were talking about her mother’s lack of cooking skills, but what Josie needed was a big favor. Scratch that. What Josie needed was a miracle. She needed her mother to stop comparing her life to Kyle’s, or at least pretend to accept that Josie wasn’t jealous every time her brother had something good happen in his life. “I picked dinner up from Alfredo’s.”
“Pasta.” The word spat out of Aunt Beckett’s mouth, her lips curling into a sneer.
“Really good pasta.” It was on the tip of Josie’s tongue to remind her aunt that at least it wasn’t her mother’s leathery pot roast and slimy green beans, but she didn’t. Aunt Beckett knew what the alternative was; the remark was still made. “There’s also chicken parmigiana.”
Aunt Beckett arched one of her penciled-on eyebrows. “I suppose it beats that meatloaf surprise she tried to kill us with last week.” The elderly woman groaned as she slowly rose from the chair. “Guess I better check on her, make sure she isn’t adding anything to those overpriced noodles.”
“You do that,” Josie muttered. Ignoring the bickering coming from the kitchen, she slid out of the chair and dropped to her knees next to the pet carrier. The cat was homely. Scars criss crossed his peach fur; the worst of them near where an ear should have been. “Poor baby,” she whispered, her heart melting. Aunt Beckett had been right, his grotesque appearance combined with digestive issues weren’t exactly selling points to prospective adopters.Damn you Aunt Beckett.“Mom,” she called out. “I’ll be right back.” She waited a moment, smirking at the sound of footsteps tapping across the hardwood floor. It would be her mother, half-running to prevent her from leaving.
Right on cue, Ruth appeared in the archway between the living and dining rooms. “Don’t you even think about leavingme with that woman.” Josie gestured towards the kennel. “Dear God,” her mother whispered, “another one?”
“Yup.” Her mother let out a sigh before nodding. The hurry back was silent but still loud and clear. There was an unspoken rule in the family about not leaving Ruth and Aunt Beckett alone together. None of them knew why the pair bickered so much, just that it dated back to when Ruth was a child. The simple solution would be to stay away from each other, but Ruth insisted on including her aunt in everything and Aunt Beckett insisted on showing up.
***
Living in the one-bedroom apartment that used to be her parents' double garage had a few perks, the most obvious being she could make hasty escapes. There was also the bonus that her parents had let her make it her own. Everything, from the dark, hardwood floors to the dove gray walls, and the clawfoot soaking tub, had been chosen by her. She knew what people thought when they heard where she lived, but she didn’t care. Let them assume she was a failure to launch or whatever. She knew the truth; cancer had bankrupted her parents and they relied on her more than even Kyle knew.
She walked across the living room towards her bedroom, well aware of the four sets of eyes following her every move. Behind her, she heard the tapping of claws on wood, and chuckled. She didn’t have to look to know it was Muffin. She was the noseyest of the four, but also the most accepting. “Last one, Muffin, I promise.” The little cat let out a noise that sounded almost like a huff and Josie had to laugh. “I know, I’ve said that before, but I’m serious this time. I laid down the law with Aunt Beckett... told her there was no more room at this inn.”
