Best Laid Plans (Garnet Run 2)

But this—the cat heaven they were about to see—this, Charlie had done as a surprise for Rye. Under the cover of lunch breaks, lumber deliveries, and with some sneaky assistance from Jack, Marie, and Bob, he had made something he thought any cat would be happy to have.

He just hoped his favorite cat, Rye, would like it too.

“How did she get through there?” Rye asked, confused. “Charlie, what...”

Rye turned to look at him, expression half suspicion and half confusion.

“Go through,” Charlie said.

Rye put his hand on the doorknob and turned around again to look at Charlie.

“What did you do?”

“Go through,” Charlie said again, and put his hand at the small of Rye’s back as he opened to door.

Out the back door was a porch screened in with metal strong enough that cat claws couldn’t tear it. The floor was carpeted with a layer of cheap Berber carpet, perfect for cats to scratch and easy to replace when destroyed. The cat ramps ran over the wall of the porch attached to the house, and that was where Marmot had scampered to. She was frozen in awe of the vista before her, though: the entire back was open to the land outside the shelter. The grasses waving in the breeze and all the animals that jumped around them. The trees past that, and the animals that played through them. A vast expanse of sky and all the birds and bugs that flew across it. The smells and sounds and tastes of nature, all there to be enjoyed. Charlie had a plan for winterizing it, but now didn’t seem the time to burden Rye with details.

Rye looked around the huge space with his mouth open. He clapped a hand over his mouth and turned to Charlie, so that all Charlie saw were his extraordinary eyes, ringed in kohl and sparkling with tears.

“What did you do!” Rye accused.

“I just—”

But Rye wasn’t looking for an explanation. He flung himself into Charlie’s arms and buried his face in Charlie’s chest. Charlie could feel him shaking with sobs.

“I love you so much,” Rye sobbed. At least, that’s what Charlie heard. Rye was pretty incomprehensible, but Charlie didn’t mind. He wrapped Rye in his arms and rubbed his back and stroked his hair, just as Rye had done for him more than once over the past few months.

Emotional growing pains, it turned out, were as painful as physical ones.

“Moment of truth,” Charlie murmured, watching Marmot over Rye’s head.

Rye made a snuffling sound of query and Charlie turned him so his front was to Rye’s back but he could still have his arms around Rye.

“I did a lot of research on what metal mesh would stand up to claws,” Charlie explained. “But you never know with cats.” He didn’t add that he’d chosen something that would withstand any potential claws possessed by animals outside the shelter as well. The last thing Rye needed on opening day was the image of a coyote attacking the cats.

Marmot’s shoulder blades bunched and she launched herself to the floor from her perch high on the inside wall. Slowly she approached the screen, sniffing delicately at the air. She rubbed her cheek against it, then out came the claws. In an instant, she’d climbed it and was hanging off it, tail twitching.

The screen held, and Marmot made her clinging way to a perch hooked into the screen.

“Yesss!” Charlie said.

Jack, whom Charlie had forgotten was still there while he’d held Rye, said, “Damn, what is that, plutonium?”

“Adamantium,” said a soft voice. Simon had arrived.

Jack’s face lit as he pulled Simon to him.

“Hey,” he said, like every time he got to see Simon was special to him.

Simon kissed him, then said, “You mean adamantium. The metal that Wolverine’s skeleton is made of? Plutonium is a radioactive element.”

“Oh, yeah, adamantium, right. Thanks.”

Not content to stay on the perch, Marmot was attempting to traverse the screen one paw at a time. When she lost patience she leapt back to the floor. Then she ran around smelling and rubbing her cheeks on everything.

“Welp, I’d call that a success,” Jack said.

Charlie winked his thanks to Jack, let out a sigh of relief, and pressed a kiss to Rye’s cheek.

“You okay?” he said softly.

Rye nodded. When he turned back around to Charlie, his eyes were glowing with joy.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “Charlie, thank you so much. For everything.”

He looked like he had more to say, but it wasn’t the time. Besides, Charlie knew what everything meant. He knew, because Rye had given him everything too.

“What’s the plan here, guys?” Jack asked.

“Doors open at eleven,” Charlie said. “People can wander around, see the place, we’ll give them information about how things work.”

“Who knows,” Rye added, “maybe people will even want to get on the waiting list for cats right away. We’ve got the pamphlets you made, Simon, so if you all can make sure those get passed out. And your grandma’s bringing, like, one million kinds of cookies.”