Page 53 of Playing to Win
Kyle put the car in drive and pulled a U-turn in the middle of the road.
“What are you doing?” Callie asked.
“If I’m keeping the damn thing, you’re helping me get her acquainted with Garth. And we’re not naming her Sugar. That’s dumb.”
“Okay, fine. Hey, maybe I can name her, oh, what was that female country singer that Garth married?”
“Trisha Yearwood?”
“Yeah. That’s better than Sugar, anyway.”
“Never have I ever heard of a cat named Trisha.”
“Says the person who named his cat Garth!”
Kyle silently sighed. Trisha was the worst cat name he had ever heard. But he wasn’t going to burst her bubble. “Sounds great, Curly.”
All of a sudden, Kyle could hear something that sounded suspiciously like gagging coming from the backseat of his car.
“Callie,” he said in a frantic voice, “What is that sound?”
He looked at her face, which had gone pale in what he could only describe as panic. “Um, well, I think Trisha just threw up a teensy little bit in your floorboard.”
“What?” Kyle yelled.
“But it was on your mat. It’ll wash right off. Here, I’ll get it.” Callie pulled out a napkin, turned around in her seat and grabbed the puke. She quickly spun around and gagging, rolled down her window.
“No, Curly, that’s not a good—”
Before Kyle could finish his sentence, the napkin went flying out the window. The wind caught it and blew it back right smack dab in the middle of his back window. Callie looked at him in horror.
“I am so sorry, Kyle. I didn’t know it would do that. Pull into the next carwash and I will clean it off. You’ll never know it happened. Promise.”
Kyle gritted his teeth. How this could be happening he had no clue. He began looking out the window, praying to find a carwash as soon as possible. All of a sudden, he smelled a nasty odor emanating from the backseat.
“Did she puke again?” he asked, trying desperately not to yell. Forget Gremlin. This cat was a menace.
“No,” Callie said in a small voice.
Kyle sighed in relief.
“Um, she crapped,” Callie continued. “On second thought, I guess I probably shouldn’t have fed her that taco. But look at the bright side. At least it was on the floor mat, too.”
Kyle lifted his eyes up to the sky. “Why me?”
“Hey, that’s my move, Dimples. Only I talk to the sky,” Curly said, sending a hesitant smile his way. “It could be worse.”
“How could it be worse?”
“She could’ve done it all over your Italian leather.”
