Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 163209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 816(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 816(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
“A dog sitter,” Laila said without hesitation.
Cat wasn’t expecting that ready response. “I just—let’s just think about it, okay? Make sure we know what we’re getting into.”
“You think about it,” Laila said. “I’m going to bed.”
Cat reluctantly let go of her, and Laila firmly closed the bedroom door behind her. Cat rubbed her temples before upending bags of clothes on the living room floor. Jean brought his over to join her, and for a few minutes they worked in silence. Stickers and tags were mercilessly stripped and crumpled, and finally Cat said, “What do you think?”
“It is a mistake,” Jean said.
“Probably,” Cat agreed. “But they’ve been talking about it for years, you know? A pup for Jeremy to keep and Laila to cuddle. But her uncle refused to budge no matter how many times she asked him about it.”
Jean studied the look on her face and knew how this would end. Cat wanted to be the voice of reason, but she would pry the stars from the sky if Laila asked for them. Jean wrenched his last tag free with more force than it needed.
“It is a mistake, Cat,” Jean said again.
She didn’t answer, and Jean had the sinking feeling he was going to lose this fight.
-
On Sunday they returned Cody’s car and collected Shawn’s truck instead. Laila was determined to find more furniture today than she had the day before, but the first few stops frustrated her so badly they stopped for an early lunch at the mall. She sipped her boba tea in sullen silence and stared into the distance while Cat attempted to fill the silence as best she could. At last Laila pointed across the way toward a store and said, “I’m going to check again.”
“Yeah, sure.” Cat waited until she’d left before scrubbing a weary hand over her face. She hadn’t finished her lunch, but Jean didn’t think she would. She’d been pushing the last few bites of curry listlessly around her paper plate for almost ten minutes now. The look on her face said she had something to say, but it took her another minute to find the words: “I don’t know how to help her.”
Jean looked at the half-finished tea Laila left behind. “If she doesn’t like this apartment, maybe they will move us to the other.”
“Wouldn’t solve anything,” Cat said. She set her fork aside at last in favor of jabbing her straw into what little was left of her drink. She’d surely bend it against the chunky ice taking up half her cup, but Jean held his tongue. “I told you my family’s from the bay area, yeah? Five generations born and raised in the same house. Wherever I go in the world, that’s my home. That’s my family.” She pressed her fingers briefly to her heart.
“Laila doesn’t have roots,” she said. “She was born overseas, and her dad’s career means he’s got to move every couple of years. The only reason she came to LA was because she wanted to pursue Exy more seriously. Moved in with Gary at fifteen so she could attend a local high school. And he’s a nice enough guy, don’t get me wrong, but I think he likes Laila a lot more now that she’s grown up and out of his house. Not really the family type. More a landlord than an uncle, yeah?”
Jean nodded to show he was following along. Cat twisted to see if Laila was on her way back before continuing, “I know she had an apartment after high school graduation, but she doesn’t really talk about it except to say her neighbors were a problem. Must’ve been a mess, because Gary overhauled the house that fall and let her move in over Christmas break.
“It was the first place she could truly call home, and they took that from her,” she finished, so soft Jean might have imagined it. “They destroyed something she doesn’t know how to lose.”
A morose silence settled over the table, but Cat couldn’t stand it for long. She gave a deafening clap and stacked her garbage onto her plate. “Come on. Let’s see if she found something she’ll tolerate.”
Jean carried Laila’s drink so Cat could throw the trash away, and they crossed the hall to the home goods store Laila was wandering. Jean spotted her first, but as he was turning after her, his gaze caught on a nearby row of art. Cat stopped when he did, but Jean handed over the tea and motioned for her to go ahead.
As soon as she left, he turned down the aisle, and he stopped before a green and yellow painting halfway down. He picked it up, put it back, and picked it up again as he weighed Laila’s potential reaction. Every piece of art she’d had at the house had been an original work, most of them snatched up from estate sales and thrift stores, and this was obviously a mass-produced reproduction. He couldn’t imagine she’d want this, but he wasn’t willing to leave it behind. He still hadn’t made up his mind when Cat and Laila came looking for him a couple minutes later.