Page 10 of Hot Under the Collar

She grabbed her phone and scrolled until she landed on the most recent chat for the Nine Lives Club. Although they’d formed a while ago—from the same group that joined Cali’s book club at the library—they’d become a little better known around town just last month. Since the city didn’t have a stray cat rescue, someone had to step in. Lucky for Autumn Ridge, there were nine someones. She and Leo were two of them.

But a surge of panic ran through her.

Lynne snapped a picture of the litter and texted SOS! to The Nine.

Minka, the local café owner, replied immediately. Cute! Where are you?

Lynne—At the bar! I found them in the closet when I was cleaning up this morning! Then I’m freaking out. I don’t know anything about kittens. Mazzy showed up full grown.

The Nine rallied in their replies. Tabitha’s came first. If you’re suddenly a foster, then we all are. What can we do?

Don’t panic. Cali texted. We’ve got fundraiser money now. That’s literally what it’s for. Ethan and I can run out for supplies. He doesn’t have a repair scheduled until this afternoon.

Mrs. Ellery—That’s right. I set up a dedicated checking account for the funds while we wait on nonprofit status. I’ve started the paperwork, but it could be months. Cali—I can transfer some to you now. I’ll call you for details.

Freya—You’ll need more than just cat food when they’re that young. KMR, syringes, bottles, heating pads—get everything you can grab, Cali!

Ethan—Good idea, Freya. We’ll stock up on all the stray cat essentials on this trip. We can keep what’s not needed here at the lake or the library downtown until we find a better place.

Freya—Oh and a digital kitchen scale to weigh them. Are you writing this down, Ethan?

Ethan—On it!

Lynne panic-replied, still in shock at how quickly this had unfolded—and how the responsibilities were building. But don’t they need a vet? They can’t live down here in the bar. You saw the cuteness. Someone’s going to get drunk and mess with them.

Bastet—Vet’s closed on weekends. But let’s remember to call Monday.

Tabitha—Can they stay upstairs in your apartment this weekend? I’ve got litter and a playpen I can run over between appointments.

Freya—What else do you already have on hand?

Lynne took mental inventory of what remained of Mazzy’s, and panic rose in her chest. She had her collar, paw print, and her favorite toy in a keepsake box. But they were of no help right now.

Lynne clasped the pendant and spun it nervously between her fingers. Nothing. I’m screwed. Mama is pissed. She won’t let me anywhere near the kittens. How will I get them upstairs?

We’ll figure this out, Mrs. Ellery messaged. Don’t try to move them just yet. They need her milk and warmth right now. You don’t want to scare her away.

Minka—I can crowdsource advice on my socials and tag O’Donnell’s. Want me to?

I guess?

Cali—I have a friend with rescue experience in Eastmoor. She may not get back to us as fast as social media will, but I’ll reach out. Standby!

Lynne gulped. All the kittens suddenly began to shift and whine. It was as if they could feel her terror and had absorbed it. As she started typing Thanks, another shuffle came from deep within the closet. Lynne lowered her phone and cocked her head as a pair of large, shameful yellow eyes blinked up at her from behind the row of fire extinguishers.

“Fred?”

Leo’s tomcat slithered out and sat on his haunches, right between Lynne and the litter. He stared up at Lynne with an expression that seemed to say Look, I can explain…

“These are yours!” she scolded.

He replied by licking his paw and dragging it across his whiskers a few times.

“And her?” Lynne asked in disbelief. “Is she, like, your girlfriend?”

He glanced back at the feral mother cat, whose ears were pinned flat in anger. Mama growled, clearly not pleased with him either, and Fred turned back around and meowed softly at Lynne.

“Unbelievable. You’re in big trouble, mister.”