Page 62 of Bargain with Fate
“Were you worried I wouldn’t come home?” I asked, opening the door for both of us.
Jinx shot past me and went straight to the bowls. Now that she had expectations, I knew I should consider adding a pet entry to the back door. I’d have to watch a YouTube video and see if I could do it myself. If I wanted the handyman to take care of it, it would be a long wait.
I added more food to the bowl and watched her devour every piece. “I won’t abandon you, Jinx. I promise.”
The cat stopped eating long enough to meet my gaze.I know, her eyes seemed to say. Then she resumed her meal as though nothing had passed between us. She was a special cat, or maybe I only thought she was special because she seemed to thinkIwas.
Or maybe she sensed a weakness for helpless creatures, although to be fair, Jinx was far from helpless. She’d managed to carve out a pretty good life for herself on the island before I started offering her salmon and tuna.
Jinx trotted behind me as I walked to the bedroom to change into pajamas. I thought about my answer to the relationship question. Once upon a time, I’d wanted it all—a husband, kids, a dog or cat. Maybe even both. But that had been before my father died, when I still lived a “normal” life. When I didn’t know about the Fates or the fae or the old gods.
When ignorance was bliss.
When I was about eight years old, I’d begged my parents for a pet. One evening, my father appeared in the living room holding a striped kitten. My mother threw a fit and ordered him to take the “creature” back where he found it. I didn’t even getthe chance to hold her, let alone name her. My mother’s mask slipped that day, and she spent the remainder of the evening cursing my father’s name and telling me all the ways I was a terrible child. That I was ungrateful for wanting more than what I’d been given.
I’d run to my bedroom, sobbing, and slammed the door shut, but that hadn’t deterred my mother. She’d followed me anyway, still ranting and berating me. It was the first time I remembered her hitting me, not for my ingratitude but for my weakness. Because I’d cried. She seemed to believe that she could toughen me up by inflicting pain. It was a theme that would continue throughout my life.
I didn’t see my father that night. I fell asleep underneath my bed, where I knew there were no monsters—because the only monster I knew had chased me there.
I climbed into bed, Jinx purring contentedly beside me, and stared at the ceiling. Not every parent deserved to be one. Over the years, I’d sometimes wonder why she’d chosen to have me at all. My father’s death had been the final straw for her. After that, she saw no reason to maintain a connection with me. The only way I could enhance her life was by leaving it.
From what I later learned, she’d received a handsome sum of money for me. Enough to live a comfortable life without a job and without another mouth to feed. For many years, I’d hated her, until I came to realize that she had been broken, and that she’d been caught in a cycle she felt powerless to break.
I’d been spinning in that cycle, too, but unlike my mother, I’d unearthed strength I didn’t know I possessed in order to change. “Change yourself and you change the world,” my father used to tell me. So wise and yet so blind. It took me a long time to understand what he’d meant. I got there eventually, but the price I had to pay for that change was exponentially high.
It cost me everything.
Chapter
Ten
Iwoke up groggy, not from excess wine but from an emotional hangover. I slithered out of my cotton cocoon to check the clock on my phone. I wasn’t looking forward to Jinx’s appointment with Dr. Adam this morning. For starters, I didn’t own a cat carrier, a mistake I’d have to rectify if Jinx was, in fact, a permanent addition to the cottage. Live and learn.
The sleep-induced haze cleared from my brain, allowing me to fully process the time.
No no no.
What happened to the alarm I’d set the night before? Knowing me, I’d turned it off and went straight back to sleep. Wouldn’t be the first time.
I changed clothes, washed my face, and brushed my teeth like the routine was part of a deadly trial. I called to Jinx as I rushed through the cottage. Sharing my sense of urgency was my first mistake. The black cat darted under the sofa, out of reach.
I took a moment to calm myself and change my intonation. “Good morning, Jinx,” I said, followed by the universally recognized sound for “here, kitty kitty.”
Jinx hissed and swatted at me as I peered under the sofa. I’d have to try an alternate method, or my face would end upresembling a patchwork quilt of bloody regret. With an oven mitt on each hand and an old fencing mask over my face, I returned to the sofa to try again.
Jinx crept backward. I moved the sofa, and she moved with it. Why did I choose the smartest cat on the island? To be fair, I’d argue that Jinx chose me, but now wasn’t the time to split hairs.
The minutes ticked by. At this rate, there was no way we’d make the appointment. I shook off the mitts, pulled off the mask, and called Dr. Adam.
“Hi. I hate to ask, but is there any chance I can persuade you to make a house call?”
“Jinx is reluctant to leave, I take it.”
“I’m fairly sure her claws are currently embedded in the underfabric of the sofa.”
“I’ll be there in about five minutes.”
I brushed off the pang of guilt. Dr. Adam made house calls all the time. “Over and above” was part of his personality and had nothing to do with his crush on me.
