yet.”
“That’s okay. I’ll stop in.”
Chris pursed her lips as she rang up the shirt, and Lily hurried out into the cool, spitting rain. She’d just helped a rival shop make a sale, when the owner wasn’t even there and her employee couldn’t care less about the business. And all that Lily got in return was a homeless, mewling cat in a box and her own messy, empty shop. But still, her spirits rose a little. She had an advantage—something that just might make a difference. She genuinely loved the clothing in her shop. She and Josh had chosen each piece. She wouldn’t hire someone like Chris, even if she could afford an employee. She would stay in her boutique to answer questions in person, to impart her knowledge of fabrics and how to care for them, if only the customers would come inside.
Chapter Ten
Kitty
We’re in a car, and cars never lead anywhere good. The drone of the engine sears my eardrums, and the stink of exhaust nauseates me. Through holes in the box, I can see Lily staring ahead with glazed eyes. I get mesmerized sometimes, too—by clouds or birds, but never by windshield wipers.
“I shouldn’t be driving you. Josh would be the one doing this…”
The shapeless spirit? I didn’t know ghosts could drive. He’s not here, anyway. Through another airhole in the box,I see Lily’s white-knuckled fingers gripping the steering wheel. I’ve held on that tightly before with my claws, when I was up a tree. I meant to be there. I was merely taking precautions.
“Oh, come on. It’s not that bad. You’re turning me into an emotional wreck. Can’t you quiet down?”
I suppose I’m making noise. But who wouldn’t, in my situation? How would she like to be stuck in a box in a roaring killing machine?
“He once picked up a dead chickadee from the condo balcony. It hit the window and broke its neck. Why do birds do that? Fly to their doom?”
Who cares why? A dead bird is a dead bird and a tasty one if it’s fresh.
“Made me sad to see that little thing lying there. When I called the Audubon Society for advice, a volunteer suggested keeping the windows dirty so birds wouldn’t see their reflections. So I haven’t washed the cottage windows yet, but I should, if I want to compete with The Newest Thing. The windows are clean there, clean and shiny.”
People often do this, talk to themselves under the pretense of talking to me.
“Josh would’ve probably kept you, but he was allergic. He said, ‘If our kid wants a pet, I’ll try those allergy injections.’ But did he want a girl or a boy? Or both? We neverhad a chance to talk about it. Not that we could’ve chosen. We didn’t even get to say good-bye.”
So her mate departed in a sudden way. No wonder she talks to herself. No wonder he hangs around. Perhaps he doesn’t even realize he’s dead.
Now she’s pulling out a loose collar from beneath her shirt—or what humans call a “necklace.” She touches a ring that hangs from the necklace. The gold metal glints in the light. Something else, too—a tiny glass vial. I know what’s inside. Human ashes give off a dull odor, different from wood ash and barely detectable, which is probably why I didn’t smell them before.
She tucks the necklace back under her shirt, and I sense the clinic ahead. I shudder as she parks the car beneath a fir tree. “What if I leave you on the porch with a note? Okay, quiet down. I was only thinking aloud.”
I wish she would do less of that. My voice is going hoarse as she carries me inside, still in the box. Then all sounds disappear from me. We’re in hell—a crowded waiting room that reeks of dog and disinfectant. A tall man holds a trembling, yapping poodle in his lap; a woman sits next to a giant golden retriever, its tongue hanging out; a tiny man holds a cat carrier in his lap. I smell a depressed black tomcat with a damaged leg.
Lily props the box on the countertop. Through thepathetic airholes, I glimpse the girl at the desk. She
“That’s okay. I’ll stop in.”
Chris pursed her lips as she rang up the shirt, and Lily hurried out into the cool, spitting rain. She’d just helped a rival shop make a sale, when the owner wasn’t even there and her employee couldn’t care less about the business. And all that Lily got in return was a homeless, mewling cat in a box and her own messy, empty shop. But still, her spirits rose a little. She had an advantage—something that just might make a difference. She genuinely loved the clothing in her shop. She and Josh had chosen each piece. She wouldn’t hire someone like Chris, even if she could afford an employee. She would stay in her boutique to answer questions in person, to impart her knowledge of fabrics and how to care for them, if only the customers would come inside.
Chapter Ten
Kitty
We’re in a car, and cars never lead anywhere good. The drone of the engine sears my eardrums, and the stink of exhaust nauseates me. Through holes in the box, I can see Lily staring ahead with glazed eyes. I get mesmerized sometimes, too—by clouds or birds, but never by windshield wipers.
“I shouldn’t be driving you. Josh would be the one doing this…”
The shapeless spirit? I didn’t know ghosts could drive. He’s not here, anyway. Through another airhole in the box,I see Lily’s white-knuckled fingers gripping the steering wheel. I’ve held on that tightly before with my claws, when I was up a tree. I meant to be there. I was merely taking precautions.
“Oh, come on. It’s not that bad. You’re turning me into an emotional wreck. Can’t you quiet down?”
I suppose I’m making noise. But who wouldn’t, in my situation? How would she like to be stuck in a box in a roaring killing machine?
“He once picked up a dead chickadee from the condo balcony. It hit the window and broke its neck. Why do birds do that? Fly to their doom?”
Who cares why? A dead bird is a dead bird and a tasty one if it’s fresh.
“Made me sad to see that little thing lying there. When I called the Audubon Society for advice, a volunteer suggested keeping the windows dirty so birds wouldn’t see their reflections. So I haven’t washed the cottage windows yet, but I should, if I want to compete with The Newest Thing. The windows are clean there, clean and shiny.”
People often do this, talk to themselves under the pretense of talking to me.
“Josh would’ve probably kept you, but he was allergic. He said, ‘If our kid wants a pet, I’ll try those allergy injections.’ But did he want a girl or a boy? Or both? We neverhad a chance to talk about it. Not that we could’ve chosen. We didn’t even get to say good-bye.”
So her mate departed in a sudden way. No wonder she talks to herself. No wonder he hangs around. Perhaps he doesn’t even realize he’s dead.
Now she’s pulling out a loose collar from beneath her shirt—or what humans call a “necklace.” She touches a ring that hangs from the necklace. The gold metal glints in the light. Something else, too—a tiny glass vial. I know what’s inside. Human ashes give off a dull odor, different from wood ash and barely detectable, which is probably why I didn’t smell them before.
She tucks the necklace back under her shirt, and I sense the clinic ahead. I shudder as she parks the car beneath a fir tree. “What if I leave you on the porch with a note? Okay, quiet down. I was only thinking aloud.”
I wish she would do less of that. My voice is going hoarse as she carries me inside, still in the box. Then all sounds disappear from me. We’re in hell—a crowded waiting room that reeks of dog and disinfectant. A tall man holds a trembling, yapping poodle in his lap; a woman sits next to a giant golden retriever, its tongue hanging out; a tiny man holds a cat carrier in his lap. I smell a depressed black tomcat with a damaged leg.
Lily props the box on the countertop. Through thepathetic airholes, I glimpse the girl at the desk. She
Similar Books
