pitiful mewing sounds from the dark corner behind her.
Looking over her shoulder, she saw a box with three tiny kittens in it. She looked from the kittens to the back of the man braced against the doorjamb staring silently at the ocean. “Where in the world did the kittens come from?”
He didn’t turn. “Your mother didn’t tell you?”
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Sterling’s Reasons
She set the fork down and pulled the box out into the light. Two orange and one gray. They looked up toward her with unseeing, nearly newborn eyes.
“Someone dropped them off?”
“I guess. Found them two days ago out front.”
“And you’re caring for them?” She was amazed…and touched.
“No, they’re caring for me. You’re burning the eggs,” he added, provoked.
She returned to the skillet as he stalked back and shoved the box back in the corner.
“What do you feed them?”
“I was wondering the same thing myself. They licked a little milk off my fingers last night. Think they can handle the eggs?”
She laughed. “And I thought you were fixing breakfast for us. No, they most certainly cannot handle the eggs. Fix some toast, will you? I hate eggs by themselves. Then we’ll have to go into town and find some doll bottles and baby formula.” She took the skillet and flipped the eggs out onto two clean plates she’d found in the cupboard.
He burned the toast, then proceeded to scrape most of the black off over the sink. Joining him at the small dinette table, she noticed how haggard he looked.
How long had it been since he had had a good night’s sleep? “Are you all right?”
she asked.
“Eat,” he grunted.
“It’s really a rotten breakfast. We could have gone to town. If you don’t have much money, I have enough. What we ought to do is stock the fridge. We can do that while we shop for your babies.”
He looked up at her then. There was a small crumb of toast in the corner of his mouth. His hair had fallen over his forehead. The night’s growth of beard shadowed his chin and sculpted it to appear outlawish. His shirt was a mess. It
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Joey Light
was wrinkled and opened to his waist. She kept her eyes level with his so as not to look at where the dark hair traveled across his bare chest.
“They’re not my babies,” he objected bad-temperedly. “Just some stupid no-good strays that somebody dumped near my car. Probably hoped I would run over them. I should have. I thought I’d let them grow bigger and make rugs out of them.”
She laughed then, good and hearty. “Oh, you don’t fool me, Joe. You have a big heart beneath all that growling. It’ll be fun to care for them.”
“Good. Then take them to your place.”
“No way. They’re yours. But I’ll help you now and then. It will give you something else to do besides brooding and drinking.”
“I’ll reserve the right to do whatever pleases me.”
“To a point,” she agreed and finished her charred toast.
“You mean last night?” He toyed with the food on his plate.
She set her fork down, contented. “No, I didn’t mean last night, but now that you mention it, I guess it does include that. I was talking about the fact that it’s time to get your life going again. You can’t just live in limbo forever. It’s been almost five weeks now. Why do you feel that punishing yourself will help anything?”
“Lord, a shrink.” He bumped his elbow on the table. “I didn’t think of that one.” He rubbed the spot where a bruise was forming. “But who would send a shrink after me? There’s nobody…”
“I look like a psychiatrist?” she chuckled, and took their plates to the sink.
“That’s a good one. We better get out and get the stuff for the babies and some groceries for you before the storm breaks. I want to watch every bit of it.”
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Sterling’s Reasons
“I don’t believe you talked me into buying a baby blanket. Look at those fat cats.