“What are you two talking about?” Miss Ina looks between Mom and me.
“I got a kitten,” I tell her.
She frowns at me. “Cats aren’t allowed in the building.”
“How will the landlord know if I don’t tell him?” I ask.
Her brows pull sharply together as she answers. “I am the landlord, child, and you just told me about it.”
“You’re not the landlord.”
“Yes, I am,” she says so vehemently that I know she’s not lying.
“You are?”
“Yes. My husband and I bought that house right after we were married.”
“But I pay rent to an agency.”
“I don’t have time to deal with all the issues that come with being a landlord, so I hired out,” she informs me, waving her hand around. “And I don’t allow animals in my building.”
“So you’re going to make me move because I have a cat?” I ask her. She frowns. “What if I give you a pet deposit?”
“Why did you get a cat when you know they are not allowed in the building?”
“I didn’t go to a store and buy him, or even adopt him from the pound. I saw him behind the pizzeria in the alley a couple nights ago. I tried to rescue him then, but he disappeared. Last night Antonio caught him, so we took him to his place and got him cleaned up. This morning I took him to the vet to make sure he was okay. He is, so I brought him home.”
“So he’s a wild cat?” she says, sounding disturbed.
“He’s just a kitten. He’s actually really sweet. He didn’t even try to bite or scratch me or Antonio when we gave him a bath.”
“If Miss Ina won’t allow you to keep him, you can bring him here. Your dad and I will take him,” Mom says.
Disappointment fills my stomach. I don’t want to get rid of him. I’ve already fallen in love with the little guy. It was nice having another living being in the apartment with me when I was home today. Plus, he followed me around everywhere, even when I was doing my makeup and hair. He sat right there on the closed seat of the toilet, watching me.
“Miss Ina, please don’t make me give him away,” I beg. I swear I see her expression warm. “Please? I promise I will make sure that he doesn’t do anything to destroy the apartment. I will pay whatever pet deposit you want me to.”
“All right, child. Stop begging. You can keep the cat,” she acquiesces with a dismissive wave.
I quickly scoot off my stool and wrap her up in a tight hug. “Thank you.” I jump up and down, keeping hold of her.
“Stop hugging me. You’re wrinkling my clothes,” she complains, trying to shove me off. I don’t budge. I hug her tighter. Finally, she lets her arms fall to her sides and gives in to my embrace. Smiling, I kiss the top of her head quickly. Then I let her go and duck when she tries to smack me.
“You really do like me, don’t you, Miss Ina?” I grin as she swipes her hands down the front of her top and pants. Then her eyes meet mine, and she glares.
“Don’t make me change my mind.”
“You do like me. I think I might hug you again,” I tell her, listening to Mom laugh.
“What’s going on in here?” Dad walks into the kitchen, and I wrap my arms around his waist. I feel his lips touch the top of my head as he gives me a hug. “Hey, honey.”
“Hey, Dad.” I look up at him, and he smiles.
“You want a beer?” Mom asks him. He nods, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and pulling me into his side.
“How are things going with the pizzeria?” he asks me.
“Good. We’re getting closer. We should close in a couple weeks if everything goes as planned. I’ll let you know a few days or so in advance so you can schedule the time off to be there when it’s time to sign the papers.”
“Good.” He grins at me.
“Have you thought of a name yet?” Mom asks.
“Princess Pizza,” I say, and she laughs. “I’m serious. I already started the designs for the logo, and I plan on closing down the shop for a week and having some changes made to the interior after we sign the papers.”
“What kind of changes?” Miss Ina asks.
“There’s a large storage room in the back of the shop that I want to have gutted. I plan on making it a space that’s available for rent. Parents can rent it for a birthday party, for example, or they can get a package where the kids will be able to make their own pizzas in there.”
“That’s actually a really great idea,” Mom says with a proud smile.
“I’m excited. Scared, but really excited about it.”
“We’re proud of you,” Dad says.