Bad Luck

Cheeky Trouble

"What bu- Oh, he's followed me here again, didn't he?" I grumbled annoyed. I was certain when I had shooed Lucky out of my basement this morning that it wasn't going to be the last I'd see of him.

"He's not my buddy. He's my stalker, that's what he is." I turned around and there he was, in one corner of the kitchen, trying to be as inconspicuously unnoticeable as possible. "I'm trying to get him to leave because he's all healed from that car accident, but he won't go. Come on, Lucky, I told you already! You can leave now."

He pretended I wasn't talking to him and just laid there, getting himself all comfortable on the floor.

"Oh. You named him. That's not a good sign if you really want him gone... And Lucky? Why that name?" Marie asked puzzled.

"Because Frankie kept saying he was bad luck just because he's a black cat, and I think it's the opposite since he survived and recovered so fast. He's Lucky."

"That's cute. And true," she said, nodding. "He gets grumpy when he's hungry, huh? It was quite the howling racket he made last night..."

"Yep, I don't think 'racket' is the right word to describe the sounds he made, but let's go with that. He only shut up after I stuffed him with fish sticks."

"Mia!" She admonished me. "You know these junk food are bad for cats! Supermarket processed frozen fried fish? Honestly!"

"It was an emergency! I didn't have any other option down there!" I protested. "And you told me to feed him!"

"If you want him to leave so badly, you shouldn't be giving him food anyway." She berated me.

"You were the one shouting for me to feed the damn cat!" I wailed. "I was following your orders!"

"Well, if he's so insistent on staying, maybe you should--"

"Nope. I'm going to stop you right there. I'm NOT taking him in. This has been discussed and resolved already. He's not staying. Period. He's the most aggravating cat in the history of the world!" I huffed out.

He 'Acch' grumpily by the other side of the room in return.

"Seems the feeling is mutual," Marie noted with a chuckle.

I turned around in my chair to shoot him a proper glare. "Well, I don't see any chains holding you to me, Mister. If I'm that aggravating, there's always the door." I gestured flamboyantly to the door.

He turned his face away with an undignified look of 'No, thank you, I'm fine right here where I am.'

"You should have seen all the rumpus he made down there in the basement. I thought I had a burglar the whole night with me. He's the loudest and most annoying cat ever!" I complained.

"You just need time to get used to him, Mia. It's been a long time since Jules-"

"Please don't." I cut her in. "I don't wanna hear another 'get back on the saddle' advice, okay? I won't ever get over it, all right? I won't ever forget her!"

"I'm not saying you have to forget her, Emilia. I'm saying you should let go of what happened. Let the past be in the past. Maybe your new buddy will help you mend your heart." She suggested in a hopeful tone. "Maybe he can be your next project. You can train him, make him less aggravating."

"I can't do that. It's like asking to make him 'less cat', Marie," I said begrudgingly. "He is what he is: aggravating. There's no training that out of him. He's trouble and I don't want any more trouble in my life."

She stood up from her chair and stopped next to me, pulling my curly mane gently away from my eyes. "He may seem like a lot of trouble right now, but sometimes trouble comes disguised as the greatest gifts we'll ever receive in life, baby girl." She murmured, leaning down to plant a kiss on my forehead. "I speak from experience."