Page 6 of The Music of Us
“It’s a lot of responsibility. It’s okay if it’s too much for you,” she told me. “You should be free to enjoy your last summer before college. You don’t need to be saddled with this so young.”
“You weren’t that much older than I am now when you had me and opened the café. And you did it all by yourself,” I argued. I knew Mom’s doctor bills were expensive too, but I didn’t mention them, since she usually changed the subject when I did. “I want to help; give me a chance.”
I wore her down eventually, and it was a good thing too, because afterward, I heard the Somerset pet shelters were too full—our cats would’ve been left with nowhere to go but the kill shelter located in the next town over.
So I didn’t have any regrets about pestering Mom into this—I just didn’t think I’d be struggling so much.
Half of our regular customers left for summer vacation. The other half were stolen away by Espresso Inc—a big-chain coffee shop that opened up right down the street just last month.Apparently, the allure of a larger menu and faster Wi-Fi made up for the fact it was completely soulless and void of any personality. Or cats.
Unfortunately, that meant The Tiny Tiger was mostly void of people.
And money.
“Lucy?” Amber called. She walked by the door, humming an US song and holding a cat in her arms. After a moment, she backtracked, realizing I sat inside. “What’s going on?”
“I know the café hasn’t been getting many visitors, but I think things might be worse than I thought,” I admitted. “Hardly any cats got adopted this month.”
Closing tomorrow’s reservation page, I took a peek at today’s earnings. It didn’t look good. “Mom says she runs this café because she likes cats, not cash. But, unfortunately, I’m pretty sure we’re supposed to care about the cash part too.”
“Yeah, it’s been getting emptier in here lately.” Amber frowned, adjusting Figgy in her arms. The gray tabby wrinkled his nose. “I rarely have to hide from customers anymore. Never thought I’d miss that.”
Instinctively, I reached into my pocket and pulled out my pack of watermelon gum. I popped a pink stick into my mouth, chewing anxiously, before offering one to Amber.
Amber made a face. “Ew, no. How many have you gone through today?”
“Uh . . . five?”
“You must be really stressing.” Amber leaned over the desk to look at the numbers, along with Figgy, although I had a feeling only one of them was doing any sort of math. “You know what you need?”
“A million dollars, a brownie, and someone to tell me I’m not screwing everything up?”
“Okay, I can’t help with number one or two, but three: You’re not screwing up, okay? You’re, like, the hardest-working person I know. You were valedictorian for a reason,” Amber reminded me.
“Writing an essay on Charles Dickens was so much easier than this,” I groaned. All my A-pluses were taunting me now. How did grown-ups do this? “Good old Charlie can’t help me now, unless I take a page out ofOliver Twistand have Rumple teach the rest of the cats the fine art of pickpocketing.”
Amber blinked at me. “Your go-to idea for money problems is feline thieves? Are yousureyou want to major in biology when you go to college so you can use your bachelor’s to get into vet school?” she chided. “Maybe you can take creative writing instead.”
“Stop,” I protested playfully, unable to stay mad as she grinned. “You know I worked extra hard in my science and math classes just for this.”
Going off to college and eventually becoming a vet was something I’d wanted for years. So why did leaving now seem so wrong?
“Lucy?”
Caught off guard, I turned to see my mother in the office doorway, leaning awkwardly on her crutches.
“Mom, what are you doing here?” I asked in surprise, immediately standing and wheeling the desk chair toward her. “Sit.”
“Lucy, I’m okay,” Mom said, her tone half-soothing, half-scolding. “You don’t need to worry.”
But despite her telling me that, she sat anyway, and Icouldn’t help but watch her carefully, holding my breath as I held the chair steady.
She’s fine, I reminded myself for the millionth time.
“How did you even get here?” I asked.
“Well, the doctor made me promise I wouldn’t drive my car, but he didn’t say anything about driving someoneelse’s. So when the UPS man left the truck idling, I figured,Why not?and took it for a joyride,” she replied easily. “I must say, I think I did quite well. I only ran over two mailboxes and a signpost.”
Amber chuckled, and my own lips ticked upward at the corners, happy to see Mom’s injured leg had done nothing to dull her sense of humor today. Some days, it felt like it had.
