After a couple of minutes, toes scratched over the floor as the cat crept closer.
Ignoring her, Diana kept on with the music, until the cat came over.
Purring, she brushed against one knee, then crossed to the other and back again.
When Diana stopped singing, the cat meowed in protest but didn’t run. She stretched out her hand to pet her.
With another long-drawn meow, the cat settled on Diana’s lap.
“What should I do with you now?” Diana fished her phone from her pocket and dialed Tony’s number.
He answered almost immediately.
“I got her. In the staff lounge.”
“Don’t move. I’m on my way.” Steps slapped on the floor as if he was running, then he disconnected.
“Mm, kitty, that was weird. Even for Tony. Why are you so special? Can’t be your cuteness.”
The cat only purred in answer. As if to emphasize her cuteness, she snuggled closer and licked her tail.
The door to the staff lounge opened and closed in quick succession. “Where are you?”
“Over here, behind the couch.” Diana let her hand hover over the cat to stop her from escaping, but she didn’t even blink.
Tony tiptoed to her and set a small cat carrier next to Diana.
The cat hissed and tried to get up.
Diana quickly restrained her. “I don’t think she likes that thing very much.”
“But it’s all we’ve got. Put her in.” Tony opened the door.
“I don’t know.” Diana’s protective instincts urged her to cuddle the cat, not lock her away. “Whose cat is it anyway? And what’s her name?”
“A patient’s. Tiger.” Tony gestured at the carrier. “We need to hurry up. Not one word to Emily!”
“Tony! I can’t keep secrets from her.” Diana had learned her lesson about keeping secrets—it never worked, especially not in a hospital. She cuddled Tiger closer. “And you just announced over the intercom that we lost a cat.”
“Oh.” Tony paled. “I didn’t think… I’ll talk to everyone once we get her back in the cage.”
“Good luck.” Diana doubted it would work, but it was his time to waste. “Okay, Tiger. We’ll get you into your temporary home, and then you can go back to your family.”
Diana lifted the cat toward the carrier.
Tiger wriggled in her grip, hissing and trying to scratch Diana.
The door opened, and someone entered the staff lounge. “Achoo!” Someone sneezed loudly.
Diana’s grip slipped for only a second.
It was enough. Tiger used her chance to break free. Before either Diana or Tony could react, she ran toward the door and freedom.
“Achoo! Achoo! Achoo!”
“Hi, Alexis.” Tony greeted the newcomer without even looking up.
“Tony?” Dr. Alexis Pine’s growl was almost as annoyed as the cat’s hiss had been. “Don’t tell me—achoo—don’t tell me we’ve got another Catpocalypse on our hands!”
Tony jumped up, still holding the open cat carrier. “No! This is nothing like the Great Cat Incident. We only lost one cat today, and we almost had her until you startled us.”
“What are you talking about? Catpocalypse? Cat Incident?” Diana was grateful that Tony split the blame between them for losing Tiger, but she had no idea why everyone made such a fuss about it.
Tony looked guilty, an expression she’d never before seen on the usually upbeat nurse.
Dr. Pine ran a hand through her short hair and used her other to wipe tears from her eyes. “Ask Emily.”
“No! Don’t ask her.” Tony closed the cat carrier and placed it behind his back. “Short version: A few years ago, a couple of cats got loose in the ED, created chaos, and our highly allergic surgeon here slipped with her needle and sneezed all over the wound. The patient sued the hospital. Emily took it personally because she’d been in charge of the ED that night for the first time.”
Diana couldn’t help herself. She laughed until her eyes were as teary as Dr. Pine’s. “Really?”
Twin glares cut through her mirth. Why couldn’t the others see the humor in the situation?
“Okay, okay.” Diana raised her hands. “I’ll go search, and I won’t breathe a word to Emily. She’ll find out soon enough anyway. Do you need anything, Dr. Pine?”
“No, I’ll be fine. I’ll stick to the surgical floor and take some antihistamine. Let’s hope we won’t have any surgical emergencies tonight.”
Tony groaned. “Don’t say it. Don’t even think it. Let’s just pray that your residents can handle whatever you lured here.”
“Achoo!”
“Are you sure you don’t want to wait until we find Tiger?” Liz handed the discharge papers and the new vaccination record card to Weepy Mom, who wouldn’t meet her gaze.
“You lost her. She’s not our problem anymore. You keep her or bring her to the pound or whatever. We’re done with cats.” Angry Dad crossed his arms in front of his chest and glared at his wife. “I told you we should have gotten a dog.”
“Dogs are smelly.” Billy played with the superhero Band-Aid on his left deltoid muscle. “Can I get ice cream now? And a burger?”
“Of course.” Weepy Mom hugged her son with one arm and steered him toward the exit.
There was nothing Liz could do to stop them from leaving. Maybe it was better that way. Even if they found Tiger right now, she wouldn’t be treated fairly by that family.
If only she could adopt the cat herself, but her roommate’s allergy prevented her from taking the cat home even for a day. Alexis would kill her.
Liz glanced at the electronic whiteboard. Still relatively empty and no real emergencies. Good. More time for her to find Tiger.
No one was at the nurses’ station, presumably because everyone was searching for the fugitive. Before Liz could call Tony for an update, Courtney jogged around the corner.
If anyone else ran in the emergency department, Liz would immediately be alarmed. But the pace was typical for the overeager resident.
“Oh, Liz, great, you’re here.” Courtney skidded to a stop, narrowly avoiding a crash. “All the nurses are gone somewhere. How do I get a psych consult?”
“You call psych.” Liz pointed to the laminated list of telephone numbers on the wall. Other residents in their third year knew that. But Liz was never sure if Courtney really hadn’t learned the working process of the ED by now or if she played dumb for a reason. But that was a question for another day. The more important question was why Courtney was looking for a consult. “Aren’t you with a woman with a respiratory infection?”
“Yeah, probably just a cold. But the old woman seems a little bit crazy. I don’t know if it’s her age or fever or something else.”
“Why don’t you try to use a more medical and less offensive term than crazy?” Sometimes Liz wanted to shake Courtney.
“Um, yeah, sorry. She’s hallucinating. She insisted a cat is hiding under the supply cart.” Courtney snorted. “A cat. Here.”
Today was definitely a shake-Courtney-day. “Did you look under the cart?”