April took a step forward and stuck out her hand. “I’m April O’Riley, and this is Stella. We’ll be glad to take out whichever kitten Callie wants to play with. That might help her decide. Is it really your birthday?”
“Yes, ma’am. I am six today. Daddy said I can have a kitten for my birthday and that I can even pick it out myself. Ooh, you’re pretty—blonde like me!” Callie said.
“Children have no filters on their mouths,” Kent chuckled.
“Isn’t it a wonderful thing that they are still innocent and honest?” April said.
“I’m naming my first kitten Belle,” Callie announced as she continued from cage to cage. “When I get my second one, it will be Cindy after Cinderella.”
Kent rolled his eyes and shook his head. “She’s got visions of having a cat named after each of the Disney princesses. I don’t share her grandiose ideas.”
“What’s granny owse?” Callie asked.
“Grandiose means high-and-mighty,” Kent explained.
“That’s a funny word.” Callie went back to checking out the cages.
“One a year until she’s eighteen and leaves home for college, and then you inherit the whole lot of them, right?” April asked.
“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.” Kent chuckled again. “You related to Lucy O’Riley?”
“My grandmother,” April answered.
“I work with Paul Jones at the law firm. I met her several times when they were working on her will. Sassy old girl.” He smiled and shook his head.
“She was truly that,” Stella agreed. “Callie, do you see one that you want to take out of the cage?”
Callie set her little bow mouth in a firm line. “I like this orange one right here. It told me that it likes the name Belle.”
“Little problem there,” April said. “That’s a boy kitty.”
“Show me the girl ones, then,” Callie said.
April took her by the hand. “See the pink watering bowls? That says the kitten in that cage is a girl. The blue ones tell us that the ones in those cages are boys.”
“Shame on you, boy kitty.” Callie shot him a dirty look. “You meowed when I whispered Belle in your ear. I thought that meant you liked it.” She bypassed the blue bowls and only stared intently into the cages with pink ones. Finally she poked her finger at a cage that held a longhaired yellow kitten. “Daddy, this one looks like Belle, doesn’t she?”
“It’s your cat, so you have to make the decision,” Kent told her.
In that moment, April coveted a childhood with a father who would take her to an animal shelter and let her pick out a kitten. All she had ever known was a grandmother, who would have told her that Waylon would hate another cat in the house.
“Belle did wear a pretty yellow dress when she went to the ball, didn’t she?” April said. “Would you like me to take that one out and let you play with her, or maybe rock her a little?”
Callie nodded very seriously. “Yes, please.”
April opened the cage and handed the kitten to Callie, and the yellow ball of fur put a paw up on Callie’s cheek. “I think she likes you.”
Callie carried her over to the rocking chair and loved on her for a few minutes, then set her on the floor and picked up a long, braided piece of yarn. The kitten looked like a windup toy as it chased after the braid.
“This is the one, Daddy. She loves me.” Callie’s lower lip trembled.
“Why the sad face if this one likes you?” Kent asked.
Callie wiped away one little tear. “The others look so lonely. We’ve got a big house and lots of yard. Can’t we take them all home with us?”
“No!” Kent shook his head. “Not even your well-trained tear will work today. One kitten is the limit. Now bring your new kitty cat along, and let’s get out of these ladies’ way.” He turned to April. “Are there papers that we have to fill out?”
“Yes, but she’s not a bother. We love it when folks come in and play with the kittens.”
“I’ll be back for y’all later,” Callie whispered as she blew them a kiss and followed her father out into the vet side of the clinic to get their adoption papers filled out.
Stella giggled. “You’ve got your hands full, Kent.”
“Don’t I know it?” He laughed with her.
April knew she’d never see Callie again. But what if a daughter was part of her new future?
She could hear Callie telling Maudie what name to put on the adoption papers, and asked Stella in a low voice, “Are her folks divorced?”
“No, honey,” Stella answered. “Her mama died when Callie was just a year old. Kent has raised her on his own ever since. He adores that child and is such a good daddy. The world would be a better place if there were more men like him.”
April didn’t know the guy, but she nodded in agreement. Any man who was that kind and sweet to his daughter had to be one of the good ones.
“I’m going to miss that kitten so much,” April sighed.
“Poor little thing was half-starved when someone dropped it on the doorstep a couple of weeks ago.” Maudie joined them. “It’s a good thing that cats and dogs can forgive the ones that treat them shamefully. Would be good if we could be more like them.”
April took what she said to heart and thought about it as she drove home that evening. Forgiveness was tough, but she needed to be more like the kitten and just be happy with the good home she had. That took her thoughts to Callie and how much love she’d showered on the kitten. Someday April really did want a child of her own. Thinking of a little blonde-haired girl put a big smile on her face.
“What’s got you so happy?” Nessa asked as she motioned for April to take a seat at the table.
“I thought about kidnapping a little girl today and giving her all the kittens at the shelter,” April told her cousins as she took her place at the table.
Flynn choked on a laugh. “So you’re a kidnapper now? How many cats was that?” He scooped mashed potatoes onto his plate.
“Maybe twenty-five,” April said.
“You do realize that none of us sitting around this table have any good role models for parenting, don’t you?” Nessa asked her. “We barely know how to take care of Waylon. A little girl and twenty-five cats would be a stretch.”
“Yes,” April groaned. “But that didn’t keep me from wanting to kidnap her and give her all the kittens she wanted. She was so cute and so serious about picking out her cat. And guess what?” She didn’t give them time to guess. “Next week I go to work at eleven, and as soon as we finish the quilt, Maudie wants me to start full-time. I’ll be working from nine to five thirty, five days a week. Reckon we could do our quilting a little earlier than usual each day?”
“No problem for me. I’m an early riser anyway. Are we all going to continue to live here when and if you two firm up your jobs?” Nessa asked.
“Don’t see why not,” April answered. “It’s working out so far.”
“Congratulations on getting more hours,” Flynn said. “We’re a little more than halfway done with the quilt, so we’ll probably have it done in two weeks.”