I bit my lip.
When she put it like that, their problems were more serious than mine. So serious, in fact, that mine looked feeble and stupid.
“Okay,” I said softly. “Yes, I’d like to be put on the list.”
She nodded once. “You’re there. The next time I have an opening, I’ll call.” She paused. “That looks to be about two months.”
The way she said it made me realize that the man with cancer’s apartment would be free soon, and that hurt my heart.
“Uhh, take your time,” I stuttered.
The woman’s mouth twitched. “I’m hoping it does, honey.”
With that, she waved me away, clearly dismissing me.
I left, knowing that I probably wouldn’t be getting an apartment there.
As much as I liked the newly built, smack in the middle of the city with great security apartment complex, I couldn’t live at home for very long.
I could live with my sisters, but I wasn’t really wanting to intrude on their newly-formed families.
Both of my sisters had children now, and both of their husbands, although nice, probably wouldn’t appreciate me taking over their guest rooms for the foreseeable future.
Sighing, I got into my mother’s car—which reminded me that I needed a new car on top of everything else. Though I loved my Roadrunner, it definitely wasn’t a drive it every day kind of vehicle—and started driving back to the hospital.
My mind was elsewhere, completely focused on what the hell I was supposed to do now, when a cat went barreling into the road.
That cat was followed by a man—a very familiar man.
One second, I was driving at a steady clip, and the next I was on the shoulder of the road, and unable to move.
I blinked, trying to focus my head, but couldn’t.
What the hell had just happened?
More to the point, what the hell was Jonah doing crossing the road chasing a goddamn cat?
Absently I tried to get out of the car, only to find myself stuck.
There was a tree—one that I luckily didn’t hit—blocking my way out.
And I was facing a completely opposite direction now as to what I’d been driving about twenty seconds before.
“Ma’am, are you okay?” I heard Jonah’s worried voice. I turned to look at him, and he sucked in a breath. “Pip.”
I blinked. “You made me wreck!”
He grimaced.
“Technically,” he said softly. “You were driving way too fast. It’s only twenty-five on this road because it’s residential. Also, I didn’t cause it. Pickles caused it.”
I frowned.
“Pickles?” I asked.
He held up a cat—the cat that he’d been chasing—and it wriggled in his hands.
“Uhh,” I swallowed hard. “Did I completely break my mother’s car?”
He stepped back, performed a complete circuit of the vehicle, and then once again stopped at my window.
“You have a blown front tire,” he said. “That’s it.”
I dropped my head to my chest and blew out a breath.
“Oh, thank God,” I said softly. “That would’ve been awful.”
He walked around and opened the passenger door for me and gestured for me to crawl over.
“Come on,” he said. “My house is right there. You can go hang inside while I change the tire.”
I found myself moving before I’d even had half a chance to tell my body to do so.
“Don’t you know better than to run out into the road after an animal?” I found myself asking as I crawled over the center console.
He extended a hand and helped me, making me realize that this was a hell of a lot harder than it looked.
“Yes,” he said. “But when I looked, you were far enough away that I thought I could make it.”
I made a harrumphing sound and looked down at the ditch I was in.
There was no way that I’d survive the fall out of the vehicle.
He started to laugh and caught me up by the hips before gathering me to his chest much like the cat already was.
“Ummm,” I said, not sure what to do with my legs.
Did I wrap them around his hips? Did I just let them dangle there?
What do I do?
He figured it out for me as he set me down on my feet.
“I just dug these out today with the tractor,” he said. “The ground’s pretty solid.”
“You dug them out?” I asked. “Why?”
He handed the cat to me.
I took it, staring at it with wide eyes.
“The rain that comes through here floods the road out,” he answered. “I go in here once a year or so and dig it out to make sure that the water has somewhere else to flow instead of on the road.”
I made a noise of understanding.
“You have a Persian cat,” I found myself saying, unable to help myself.
“Yeah,” he said. “A Persian asshole cat that likes to escape whenever he can and run toward the neighbor’s house that has a fuckin’ unfixed male cat.”
“Is she fixed?” I questioned.
He shook his head. “No. That was one of the requirements of my getting her. I couldn’t fix her.”