Page 73 of Something Borrowed

“Is it?”

Vic had to smile—a little anyway—at that one. Audra was so cranky it almost seemed feigned. She was like a caricature of grumpiness. A cartoon or something.

“Well, you’re in a good mood, aren’t you?”

Vic nodded. Only Audra could make being in a good mood sound like such a terrible thing.

“Have you been to the washroom?”

“Have you been to the washroom?” Audra mimicked. “I’m not a child, Victoria.”

The room had a closed-up, slightly stale smell, but there was no telltale urine scent, so Vic assumed she had. And it wasn’t really that Audra had accidents per se, especially not bowel movements; she was just a little incontinent, or sometimes a bit more than a little, when she coughed a lot.

“I have a surprise for you.”

“Yippee and alert the presses. Is it something from Santa? Have I been a good enough girl this year?”

“Wow, you’re really full of . . . vim and vigor this morning.”

Audra eyed her crossly. “So, what’s the ‘good’ news?”

Vic hesitated. She’d said it was a surprise, not necessarily good news. But she’d brought it up, so she had no choice other than to come out with it.

“There’s no rat.”

Audra scoffed. “Of course you’d say that, little Miss Pollyanna. But just because you want something to be true doesn’t mean it is.”

“It was a cat.”

“A cat?”

“Yes. And Cal and I got it to come into the house.”

“Why would you go and do a fool thing like that? Some disease-ridden stray!”

“It might be a stray—or it might be somebody’s lost pet—but it’s not disease-ridden,” Vic said firmly, trying to keep the fact that she actually had no idea about the latter out of her voice.

Audra’s eyes narrowed. “Are you telling me that there’s some mangy, flea-bitten excuse of an animal slinking around our home?”

“Yes—no. There is a cat. It’s not mangy. It has everything it needs. You probably won’t even see it until I’m off work.”

“So, you’re going to leave me alone with a strange feline that might have rabies, for all you know?”

Vic shook her head. “That’s incredibly unlikely. Now, would you like me to make you something to eat before I go? Also, I know we talked about this before, but in case you changed your mind, do you want to have anyone over tonight or tomorrow? I could call a couple of your old friends.”

“And I told you! I don’t have any old friends. Mind your own beeswax. Toast. Just one piece. And an egg.”

“Okay, sounds good. I won’t be long.”

Vic filled the cat’s bowls with fresh water and kibble, then, after a moment’s thought, took a saucer from the cupboard and opened a can of wet food too. It could definitely use the calories, and the wet food might draw it out of hiding in a way the dried kibble wouldn’t.

The cat showed up just as Vic was plating Audra’s breakfast. She sucked in a breath at the sight of the little furry girl. Was it just her imagination, or did the cat already look glossier and healthier than she had the night before?

Careful not to move too quickly—or to be too obviously pleased to see her—lest she scare the animal back into hiding, Vic brought Audra her requested breakfast, along with coffee.

“The cat is in the kitchen eating,” Vic told her, trying to tamp down her obvious excitement, feeling eight-years-old again—but in a good way, for once. “She won’t need anything till I get home, and there’s a litter box and everything, so—”

“I don’t care if you keep the cat,” Audra said, showing yet again how she was always full of surprises and that Vic could try all she wanted to figure her out, she never would. “It’ll keep the rat away.”