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13.
Alex
The rest of the week flies by. By the time the weekend rolls around, I’ve kissed my boss many more times in my head, but no more times in real life. Ryan and I both seem to be overly comfortable with each other, yet also very aware of the fact that we’ve got something real between us...
And this really shouldn’t be happening.
On Saturday morning, I wake up early and head to the local animal shelter so I can spend some time volunteering with the animals. Even though I can’t afford a cat of my own, I can’t help loving the opportunity to spend time with them.
The animal shelter is busy like it is every Saturday. Every parent, kid, and grandparent is here to see if there’s a cat or dog they want to adopt. I’ve managed to drag Beatrice along with me, and although she’s whining her head off, she’s protesting far too much for me to believe that she’s actually miserable.
“What do you mean, you don’t want to be here?” I ask. I reach for one of the little cubbies that houses a particularly sweet-looking orange cat.
“Not an orange cat,” Beatrice says quickly. “Orange cats are crazy.”
“That’s a bit mean.”
“She’s right,” Gerald, one of our regular volunteers, walks by and smiles as he passes us. “Lemon Drop is insane.”
“An orange cat called Lemon Drop?” I check the card on the outside of the cage. Sure enough, this cat is called Lemon Drop.
“I didn’t name him.” Gerald shrugs and keeps on walking.
“I don’t want a cat called Lemon Drop,” Beatrice hisses.
“That’s fine. Our job isn’t to adopt the cats ourselves. It’s to help them find families where they’ll get adopted,” I remind her.
“And what? We’re just supposed to play with them today?”
“Yes,” I nod. “Listen, a lot of cats come to the shelter and they have all of these big emotions. They’re scared. They’ve been taken from their homes. They’ve been given away or their owners have died. They don’t know what’s happening. A lot of cats are super stressed, which means they’re aggressive. This makes them harder to get adopted. Nobody wants a biter, you know?”
She sighs. “I guess that makes sense. So our job is to just help them be more comfortable with the situation that they’re in.”
“Exactly,” I agree, nodding. “We help them get comfortable, and then we help them find a little bit of peace.”
“Okay,” she sighs. “Let’s see how Lemon Drop is doing.” Beatrice reaches into the cage and holds her hand to Lemon Drop, who is lying at the back of the little cubby. He looks up, but doesn’t move.
“Lemon Drop, are you feeling a little shy?” I coo the words, reminding myself of speaking in “baby talk” to my brother when he was small. I push the thought away. It’s horrible to start thinking of him now.
One day I’ll find him.
One day.
But I know that day is not today, and I know that no matter what I’m facing, I have to take things one day at a time.
And the truth is that every day that goes by, I know I’m a little farther away from ever finding out what happened to my brother.
Am I ever going to find him?
