Page 57 of Buttons

Before she can respond, I stand. “I’ll do it.”

Both women turn to me with identical expressions of surprise. So far, my job duties have largely been about the budget and grants. My children have had more hands-on experience than I have.

Speaking of which, I quickly add, “Leo and Meredith can help. Leo wanted to try out the new cat brushes anyway, and Meredith has been begging to use the little broom.”

Is it pathetic that I’m adding my children to the equation, as if they will superviseme.

“Fine,” Beatrix says. “But make sure the water bowls are scrubbed, not just refilled.”

“Thank you,” Sarah mouths to me as Beatrix turns away.

“No problem.” The video of Julian and Carmella that had momentarily invaded my morning has already begun to fade.

As Sarah hurries off to prepare for her adoption meeting, I head toward the main area to collect my children for our new assignment.

I find Leo exactly where I expect him: sitting cross-legged on the floor, already introducing himself to the new arrival. A pair of yellow eyes peers from beneath a blanket in the corner of the kennel, tracking his movements but not retreating. Looks like progress. I hate to interrupt, but I need his and Meredith’s help.

“Leo,” I say softly, matching his calm tone. “We have a special job today. The outdoor enclosure needs cleaning before the adoption fair.”

He looks up, conflicted. The boy who once refused to leave activities unfinished now weighs his responsibility to this frightened new cat. I watch the slight press of his lips.

“Can I read one more page?” he asks. “I think she’s starting to trust me.”

“That’s fair. One page while I grab your sister.”

I leave him whispering to the yellow eyes, finding Meredith in the community room with the animal toys. There are small fluffy balls in one basket, fake mice in another, and feather wands standing in a container that looks like a flower vase. Her dedication is admirable.

“That looks amazing,” I say, genuinely impressed by her system. “But we have a special assignment from Ms. Beatrix. The outdoor enclosure needs cleaning.”

Meredith’s head snaps up, eyes wide with excitement. “Can I use the little broom?”

“Mm-hmm, and the dustpan, too.”

“YES!” She pumps her fist in the air.

I smile as she races to the supply closet, already knowing exactly where all the cleaning supplies are kept. “I’ll handle the cleaner!” I tell her. We use animal-safe, non-toxic cleaners, but I still don’t want the kids handling any chemicals.

“I knoooooow, Mom.”

A few minutes later, we’re outside. The outdoor enclosure is a converted patio space with a wooden frame and soft meshsecurely wrapped around the enclosure so the cats can hear and see outside with limited obstruction. There’s even a cat door from inside the building that goes to the enclosure. I believe I heard Sarah call it a “catio.”

Meredith stands at the enclosure entrance, hands on her hips in a perfect mimic of Beatrix’s impatient stance. “The door’s locked!”

“Hang on.” I fish the key ring from my pocket. Beatrix gave me a copy of the master keys a few days ago, which was a big deal since only a small number of us have our own set.

Once inside, we shut the door. Some cats go back inside using their cat door, while others lazily watch us with curious or annoyed gazes. One cat I’ve grown quite fond of, named Buttons, trots to us and stares in question.

“Hi, Buttons,” Leo says. “We’re going to clean your home so it’s nice for the adoption fair.”

I hand Meredith her prized child-sized broom. She begins in the corner, making big, exaggerated sweeps that are more enthusiastic than effective, but the joy she takes in the task is infectious.

We work together in comfortable fun. It’s then I realize I haven’t thought about Julian and Carmella for the past twenty minutes. Their dinner, their intimate conversation, their plans: none of it matters with work to be done and cats to care for, and children who are becoming their best selves before my eyes. Rolling up my sleeves, I tackle a particularly stubborn spot on the concrete, my mind firmly in the present moment rather than lingering on a past that hurts to remember.

That is, until Meredith starts waving and screaming, “Daddy! You’re here!”

Chapter 24

Julian