Learning to Live

Chapter 26

"Cheddar!"

The sound of cat nails ripping into the couch didn't stop. I groaned, took out the bag of treats and shook it. The sound of our couch's torture stopped immediately, and my cat's familiar trilling meow echoed in the house before he trotted into the kitchen, his orange tail raised high.

"You little trouble maker," I said, crouching to give him a treat. It crunched between his sharp little teeth.

It was a Saturday, and I'd woken up uncharacteristically early for a weekend morning. Rain pelted the window outside, and the sky was depressingly gray. The boys were still asleep. Scott's snores shook the wall.

I put the treat bag in its place and went back to making breakfast. Cheddar rubbed himself against my leg for a couple of minutes, hoping for another treat. I turned off the stove and poured the scrambled eggs next to the sausages in the plate. Cheddar lost hope and jumped on one of the island stools, licking his paws.

I sat down in the next stool and dug in. Lia was sleeping soundly in my room upstairs. She'd spent the night and we'd stayed up past midnight watching a drama.

Usually, I would sleep in. But my brain was too loud. I was still worried about Hunter and his issue with his father. He and I were going on a date this morning before heading to the gym.

Cheddar put his front paws on the island and sniffed at my plate.

"What?" I mumbled through a mouthful of eggs. "You want sausages?"

He put his paw on my hand and gave a low meow. My heart melted. Little con artist.

"Fine." I gave him a piece of sausage. He gobbled it up in a second and was looking at me through those big, golden eyes again.

"This is too fatty for you," I said even as I gave him another piece. He chewed on it, his little sharp teeth gleaming. Surprisingly, he jumped off the stool and left the kitchen without asking for more. I finished my breakfast and was rinsing my plate when I heard it.

My eyes widened and I dropped the plate and rushed to the living room. "Cheddar!"

But it was too late. Cheddar was at the top of the stairs, looking at me with a haughty expression as I took in the glob of regurgitated sausages and cat hair on the living room the carpet. I glared at my cat. "You just had to vomit on the carpet?"

He blinked slowly and cocked his head, as if to say: well I couldn't possibly throw up on the floor.

"You're lucky you're cute," I grumbled and set out to clean the mess. I shook my head. Cats.

When I returned to the kitchen to finish the dishes, my phone was vibrating on the island. Unknown number. I frowned. Who could it possibly be?

Whatever. I'd just not answer. But the thought that someone could be calling because something was wrong with Sam or Hunter or one of my friends made me pick up.

It was the last person I expected to hear that morning.

"Sapphire Milton? Let's meet."

*** ***** ***

It was one of the more upscale cafés in town.

I felt like an interloper in my oversized hoodie, jeans and scuffed sneakers. I put my hands in my hoodie's pockets, the wrapper of the chocolate bar I devoured on the way crunching under my fingers, and took a seat. The person who invited me wasn't here yet. I ordered a cup of coffee to keep me company.

The café's soft green and golden decor failed to put me at ease. My knee bounced under the white table. The only other patrons were a middle-aged couple in the corner and a white-haired man in a beret sitting in front of the accent wall; an abstract mural of bluish green waves and golden sand.