Page 55 of Kane

Mrs. Burnside smiles as she waves me in, and I enter her house. I’ve been here before, so it’s not a new thing, but something about it feels different. Pumpkin meows, running through my legs as I follow her to the kitchen, noting her other cats which are spread out everywhere. On the couch, the counter, the rug in the hallway.

“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that you’re so good with my babies,” she says, and I give her a half smile.

If she was better about keeping track of her babies, I wouldn’t be in this position, but I don’t say that because I’m not an asshole.

Contrary to popular belief.

“Is everything okay?” I ask carefully as she grabs us two mugs from her cabinet; the scent of coffee hitting me. It smells good, but it’s not the coffee I want. Not really.

But for now it’ll be enough.

Mrs. Burnside assures me everything is fine as she pours my coffee.

“Because if you need some help… with things…”

I barely get the words out before she’s gleaming with excitement.

“Oh, that would be lovely. I could use the help finding these babies new homes.”

“Homes?” I ask, confused. “I thought—”

Mrs. Burnside’s smile turns into a frown.

“Well, it’s not official yet, but I’m putting the place on the market next week.”

I blink. “You’re… moving?”

My throat tightens and panic and anxiety start to flourish. Mrs. Burnside’s been here for, like… ever. The thought of her moving, of not being here, is….

Well, I’m not sure what it is, but shocking definitely fits the bill.

“Yes. Next month.”

“Where?” I ask, my chest getting tight. Pumpkin curls up on my boot. “How?”

“My son, Eddy, just retired and is moving back home. Isn’t that wonderful?” Her eyes light up, and though I want to say yes—because it is—a part of me can’t find it in me to do so. I know she has three kids, and doesn’t really see any of them, but out of all of them, I’m pretty sure she hasn’t seen her oldest, Eddy, in like twenty years. Something about that unsettles me, but I try to shake it off. This is a good thing, right?

So why do I feel like she’s just given me the worst news?

I nod, not trusting my mouth.

“He bought a house upstate. Near the Finger Lakes. Lots of land, too. wants me to come stay with him.”

“That’s great,” I force myself to say as neutrally as possible.

“It really is. Although he’s allergic to cats, so I won’t be able to take any of my babies with me. I’ve been posting flyers around, but haven’t had any takers yet. I don’t just want them to go to anyone, you know.”

I nod, trying to remain positive, but it’s hard.

“Yeah. I get it,” I say, clearing my throat as Pumpkin nudges my ankle. “Aren’t you going to miss them, though?” I ask, noting one tabby jumping up on the table, they plop down between us; tail flicking back and forth.

“Of course. But that’s why I want to make sure the people who take them are good people.” She looks at me, then at the tabby. Toffee, I think their name is. I can’t be sure. Might be Butterscotch. A couple of her cats look alike.

“That they’ll take good care of them and give them lots of love and treats.”

She leans forward to kiss the cat atop its head and I watch its eyes close.

Growing up we didn’t have any pets. Our neighbors had dogs and they were not exactly the nicest pups in the neighborhood. It wasn’t uncommon to see dead or half-dead, stressed small animals and we all knew where they came from.