Dr. Stevens gave some medicine for pain, a small stack of sheets, and once again, a card that Henry put in his phone and you are on your way.
"My place or yours?"
You look at him. "What?"
"My place or yours?" He repeats. "I'm not leaving you alone, you know that."
You sit. You want to be alone, all of sudden. You want a minute to deal with everything.
"Okay."
"What?"
"Your place it is," he nods.
He drives to his house, and is in and out in five minutes, toting a gym bag and a shopping bag. He throws the stuff in the back seat next to Kal and slides back in. Then you head to your shoebox of an apartment. You look in the back seat, and watch Kal sniff at the shopping bag.
"No, Kal."
You realize Kal's food and snacks are in that bag. He is staying for the weekend, and for some reason, you don't know how you feel about that. How can you be of two minds all of a sudden?
"It's kind of late, so we'll just...go to sleep, alright?"
You get home and see signs predawn. It must be two or three in the morning, but you don't care enough to look at your watch. You start to move up the steps and hear a kitten cry. "Oh, no. Wait!"
"What?"
"Delilah had her kittens!" you say quickly. "She must have brought them here!" You move toward the noise. "But why am I hearing one?"
"I'm sure she'll take care of it," Henry assured.
You follow the noise and find Delilah as you'd hoped-in a plastic box you cut a hole in. You sigh with relief, but then see one kitten off to the side. "Oh, no."
"What?"
"It's...it's not moving."
Henry sighs. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. It happens, some aren't strong enough—sweetheart?"
You crouch down, and look at the kitten, terribly small. It doesn't even look like it's breathing. You count four others who are asleep against her and nursing. You push the kitten gently toward her, but the kitten barely moves. Delilah looks at you and then lays down.
"There's not much you can do."
"Yes, there is." You reach inside. "I'll take her, Delilah."
"What?"
You ignore Henry and head up the steps. "Not much time." You open the door and scurry to the kitchen. "I can't believe I was ready for this."
"What?"
You ignore Henry's look of surprise as you get a small soft towel and start rubbing the small ball of fur. "Henry, there's a dropper and bottle in that drawer. Get the cat milk out."
His eyes go wide. "Cat milk?!"
"God, man, just do it." You roll your eyes as you sit on the couch. You are suddenly glad you invested in a towel warmer for the bathroom. "Come on, girl," you whisper, rubbing the kitten up and down its back. "Please."
You watch Henry read the directions and put the formula together. "Were you studying to be a vet, love?"
"When I was a kid, I was bullied," you shrug. "I befriended neighborhood pets and strays because my mom wouldn't let me have a pet. She said I wasn't ready. I spent a whole summer, reading up on dogs and cats. A neighbor had a cat who had kittens. The mother rejected the runt. I asked if I could have her, begged my mom. She agreed. I nursed the kitten with skim milk and a few drops of pet milk. I ran back and forth, feeding it on schedule."
"Did it make it?" he sits next to you and the kitten gives a weak cry. "Oh, my God."
"Yes, Fifi made it," you smile gently. "She lived a full life, too." You put your hand out, and he hands you the bottle. "See, sometimes, life just needs a hand." You swallow hard, tears coming to your eyes. "This is going to be interesting."
"What—"
"This kitten has to be fed every four hours," you say, looking down at her. "She has to have her belly rubbed to help her go to the bathroom, too." You start feeding the kitten who nurses on the bottle weakly, but does. You keep rubbing her. "Here."
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"What?"
"Just hold the bottle, she'll do the rest."
You change clothes and get into one of Henry's t-shirts. He chuckles at you, and you stick your tongue out at him and sigh as he undresses. You face each other as he continues feeding the kitten laying in the dark. "Why?"
