Mr. Hot Grinch - Lindsey Hart Page 0,26
everything. “What do you want for dinner tonight, Shade? How about we try tacos?”
“Yeah! Tacos!” He starts rattling off all the things he’d like on his tacos—a whole long list of them.
Luke gives me a dark look, but after Shade is done with his requests, he asks me, in a politely strangled voice, to order him two chicken and two beef tacos.
CHAPTER 11
Feeney
With Luke off to work the next morning, I’m sure we’ll finally have a day of smooth sailing. Hmpf. As if. Why can’t I be right about these things for a change?
After lunch, I really want to call Sam because she’s been texting me non-stop all morning since I haven’t given her an update about how things are going. I pull the classic babysitter move and send Shade out to play in the backyard. It’s fenced, it’s safe, and things are good. I’m watching him from the window while I debrief Sam about how things are going. She’s told my parents I’m safe and that they don’t have to worry. She also promises me she hasn’t told them anything else, and she weirdly asks me if I think Luke is hot. I tell her no, I don’t think he’s hot. But she says I’m lying, so I passionately, but not so passionately that it’s suspicious, refute her claim.
I’m doing good—picking up steam to tell Sam about how I’m going to apply for a few jobs I saw late last night when I was on my laptop up in my bedroom—when Shade throws open the patio door and comes running in. I swear I just took my eyes off him for a second. Okay, I think this is what everyone says right before disaster strikes, but really. I think I looked away from the window for a minute, two at most, while I loaded dishes into the dishwasher and balanced the phone between my shoulder and ear.
“Feeney! Feeney! There’s a stray cat in the backyard, and he doesn’t look good! There’s something wrong with him! He’s missing hair in places, and he looks sick!”
“Holy shit! I mean, shoot.” I rip my phone away from my ear but then bring it back and say in rushed tones, “Sorry, I have to go. We’re having an emergency with a cat over here.” I hang up on Sam and toss the phone on the counter. It clatters hard enough to make me wince, but I’m already running toward Shade. “How the heck could a cat get into the backyard? It’s fenced!”
“It could have climbed.”
“Right, yes. You’re right. Why didn’t I think of that?” I take a deep breath. God, I am so not equipped to deal with something sick and dying. I wonder if Luke’s credit card would cover it if I took the poor thing to the vet. That is if we can catch it and if it’s not feral. Jesus Murphy. Why does this have to be happening?
“Are you coming?”
“I’m coming.” I let Shade nearly rip my hand off as he drags me across the deck and into the yard.
“It’s over here.” He points to a shady strip by the fence to the left. “It was there.”
“I’m sure it still is. Let’s have a look.”
“It looked bad, and it hissed at me. Is it dying?” Shade looks up at me, his eyes huge and already filling with tears.
“No! No, it’s not going to die. I’m not going to let it happen.” I really hope that’s true. This kid has experienced way too much death and disappointment already. I can’t be a liar. This poor, freaking cat has to live.
Shade tugs me over to the fence, and I rush as fast as I can while trying to come up with a contingency plan in my head. Finally, we reach the fence, and there is something—a hideous-looking creature with a long snout, pink ears, a scaly-looking tail, and grey hair all over its rather large, round body.
We get close, and all of a sudden, the cat turns around and hisses frantically at us.
“Holy chicken nuggets! That’s not a cat!” I back grab Shade frantically and drag him back four or five steps. That is a freaking wild animal. “That’s a…a…I think it’s a swamp rat!” I make that quick evaluation based on the wiry-looking gray hair and the long, scaly tail. Plus, the creature’s body does kind of have a rat shape.
“What’s a swap rat?” Shade giggles.
I don’t know what’s funny about that. “I…uh…well, maybe it’s uh…ah…”
“I think it’s an opossum. We’ve