Mrs Inbetween

Chapter 10 - Feline

My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs. The rustling in the kitchen grew louder, punctuated by the unmistakable clatter of a toppled can. Visions of rabid raccoons and rogue opossums flashed through my mind. Grabbing a broom handle like a makeshift spear, I tiptoed towards the offending door. With a deep breath, I flung it open, prepared to do battle with whatever beast lurked within.

But instead of a snarling predator, a pair of wide, emerald green eyes blinked back at me from a tangle of overturned flour sacks. A tiny, fluffy body, a patchwork of orange and white fur, emerged cautiously. Relief washed over me so intense it left me weak-kneed. It was just a cat. A mischievous, undeniably adorable cat.

"Well, hello there," I sighed, lowering the broom. The creature inched forward, sniffing the air with tentative curiosity. I knelt down, offering a hesitant hand. It took a moment, but finally, a soft pink tongue darted out and gave my fingers a tentative lick. A purr, barely audible at first, rumbled through its tiny frame.

"You gave me quite a scare, little one," I said, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. It rubbed its head against my hand, a gesture so endearing it melted any remaining fear. "Looks like we'll be roommates now, won't we?"

The purr vibrated against my palm, a comforting rumble that soothed the frantic storm raging inside me. A cat; I still couldn’t believe my eyes. A skinny, orange and white cat with eyes the color of deep sea moss. Relief battled with a surge of exasperation. Here I was, a fugitive with a price on my head, holed up in a strange to me apartment, and now I had acquired a stray.

"What am I supposed to do with you?" I muttered, scratching behind its ear with a tentative finger. The purr intensified, and the creature nudged its head into my hand, a rumbling mass of misplaced affection.

A ghost of a smile touched my lips. This scrawny, ginger mess possessed a certain audacity that mirrored my own desperate situation. We were both strays, outcasts clinging to the fringes of society. Maybe, just maybe, we could be strays together.

But the reality of my situation couldn't be ignored for long. Leaving the cat behind wasn't an option. It wouldn't survive on its own, and the thought of abandoning another living creature filled me with a guilt I couldn't bear.

Suddenly, an idea sparked in my tired mind. Maybe the cat wasn't just a burden, maybe it was a sign. A sign to lay low and stick to the things I have. Perhaps, in this unexpected encounter, there was an opportunity. Maybe this scruffy little feline could be my unlikely accomplice, a furry guardian angel in this concrete jungle.

I sat down on the floor, the cat coiling itself at my feet with a contented sigh. Reaching into my pocket, I fingered the silver ring Jake had given me, a token of his love now a symbol of a tangled web of secrets.

With a renewed sense of purpose, I whispered to the cat, "Alright, little one. Looks like we are together in this mess. I hope you will like my cuisine, and you don’t leave me as soon as you came?"

The cat blinked its emerald eyes, seemingly understanding my words. As if in reply, it let out a soft meow, a sound that resonated with a quiet determination that mirrored my own. Maybe, together, we could weather this storm. Obviously, it knows nothing about the turmoil I'm going through now. But its fluffy fur and peaceful purr makes me somehow feel better.

The rhythmic purring of the cat at my feet was the only sound that had broken the suffocating silence of the night. Or so I thought. A sharp rapping on the front door shattered the peace, making me jump a mile. It was 4 am. Who on earth could be visiting at this ungodly hour?

My heart almost jumped out of my chest. Every instinct screamed "danger." My gaze darted to the window, then back to the cat, now fully alert and staring at the door with wide emerald eyes.

The knocking came again, more insistent this time. I crept closer, my hand hovering near the deadbolt lock. Through the peephole, I

saw a tall, lean figure silhouetted against the dim hallway light. It was a man, a stranger with brown hair and a worried frown etched on his face.

"Hello?" his voice called out, laced with urgency. "Anyone home?"

My breath hitched. It was him - Patrick and the concern in his voice stirred a flicker of unease. The cat, sensing my trepidation, rubbed its bony body against my leg, a silent plea for caution.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, I spoke through the door, my voice a hoarse whisper. "Who is it?"

"Patrick," he replied. "I'm looking for my cat. He slipped out of the apartment down the hall earlier and I thought…" His voice trailed off, then he added hopefully, "Do you have a cat by any chance?"

Panic clawed at my throat. The cat. Of course! My unexpected companion could potentially blow my cover. What should I do? Trust him one more time, or deny ever seeing the cat and hope he goes away?

"I, uh…" I stammered, my mind racing. "No, I haven't seen any cats." The lie felt heavy on my tongue, but the fear of discovery was stronger.

"Are you sure?" Patrick's voice held a hint of desperation. "He's a ginger tabby, pretty skinny with big green eyes. You couldn't miss him."

The description fit perfectly. My hand instinctively reached out to stroke the purring creature at my feet. Guilt warred with fear in my gut.

"Look," I started, then stopped. This man seemed genuine, worried sick about his pet. Could I exploit that worry for my own benefit? Maybe this was an opportunity, a chance to glean some information without revealing myself.

"I might have seen a cat that sounds like yours earlier," I said cautiously, hoping my voice didn't betray the turmoil within.

"But it ran off down the street," I added, hoping he wouldn't press the issue.

There was a beat of silence, then a sigh of relief from the other side. "Thank goodness," Patrick said. "I was starting to worry. If you see him again, could you maybe call this number?"

He rattled off a string of digits, and with a final "Thank you," the footsteps receded down the hallway. Silence descended once more, broken only by the soft thrum of the cat's contented purr.

I slowly sank down to the floor, the weight of the decision pressing down on me. Had I made the right choice by lying? Or had I just opened a door to a whole new set of problems? The cat nudged its head against my hand, a silent question in its emerald eyes.

"What do we do now, little one?" I murmured, gazing out the window at the pre-dawn sky. The answer, like the city sprawled beneath us, was shrouded in uncertainty. But one thing was clear - this unexpected encounter had irrevocably changed the course of my night, and perhaps, and many more days to come.

The sound of the doorknob rattling startled me. Had Patrick forgotten something? Hesitantly, I peeked through the peephole again. Relief washed over me as I saw Patrick through the lens, a hopeful smile replacing his earlier frown.

"Hold on a second," he called out. A moment later, a soft meowing echoed through the hallway. My heart pounded against my ribs. The cat, sensing my anxiety, looked up at me with wide, questioning eyes.

Taking a deep breath, I unlatched the deadbolt and cracked the door open just enough to peek through.

"Did you hear that?" Patrick asked, pointing down the hallway. "Isn't that…"

He didn't have to finish the sentence. The ginger tabby, emboldened by the familiar voice, strutted out from behind a corner, tail held high and a triumphant meow escaping its throat.

Patrick's face lit up with an almost comical relief. "There you are, you little rascal!" he exclaimed, scooping the cat into his arms. The cat, seemingly unfazed by the sudden affection, purred loudly, nuzzling its head against Patrick's cheek.

"I can't believe it," Patrick continued, his voice thick with emotion. "I thought I'd lost you for sure. You wouldn't believe how worried I was."

Guilt gnawed at me, but there was also a strange sense of satisfaction. Maybe, just maybe, a little kindness wouldn't hurt.

"Well, I'm glad you found him," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

Patrick looked up, his eyes widening in surprise. "Oh! You were the one who saw him? Thank you so much, I can't express how grateful I am. You have no idea what this means to me."

A genuine smile tugged at the corners of my lips. "It was nothing," I replied, a flicker of hope igniting within me.

“It must have just slipped through the window.”

Patrick cradled the purring cat in his arms, burying his face in its soft fur. A wave of relief washed over him, momentarily erasing the exhaustion etched on his face. "I owe you one," he said, finally looking up. His gaze landed on me, surprise giving way to a hesitant smile. "I didn't expect to find anyone home at this hour, let alone someone who'd taken in a stray."

I shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny. "Well, he seemed lost," I mumbled, unsure of what else to say.

"Lost, and very lucky," Patrick replied, his eyes twinkling with amusement as the cat batted playfully at his fingers. "He doesn't usually take to strangers so quickly."

My throat tightened. "Maybe he just… recognized a kindred spirit," I said, the words leaving my mouth before I could stop them.

Patrick's smile faltered slightly. "Kindred spirit?"

The weight of my near-slip pressed down on me. "I, uh, just meant he seems friendly," I stammered, desperately trying to cover my tracks.

Patrick seemed to accept my explanation, his attention returning to the cat. "So, you live here alone?" he asked casually.

"Just me," I replied, keeping my voice low.

He stroked the cat thoughtfully. "This place looks a bit empty. Do you need any hand in fitting it?"

Every question felt like a landmine, each answer a potential misstep. "Perhaps," I mumbled, hoping he wouldn't pry further.

"Interesting," Patrick murmured, a frown creasing his brow. He looked at me again, his gaze lingering for a beat too long. "You know, there's something about you…"

A cold dread gripped me. "Something about me?"

"It's hard to explain," he said, shaking his head as if to clear it. "But you remind me of someone. Someone I used to know."

My breath caught in my throat. "Who?" I managed to croak.

Patrick sighed, a flicker of sadness crossing his features. "My girlfriend, Sarah. She… she disappeared three years ago. No trace, no nothing. It's like she vanished into thin air."

The room seemed to tilt around me. Three years. I heard nothing about it. "I, uh…" Words failed me. What could I possibly say?

"It's alright," Patrick said gently, oblivious to the storm raging within me. "Just a strange coincidence, I guess. You have the same kind eyes, the same… haunted quality about you."

Haunted. The word echoed in my mind, a chilling reflection of my reality.

Suddenly, a new determination hardened my resolve. I found this conversation going into a strange way.

"Listen," I said, forcing a calmness I didn't feel. "I'm really glad you found your cat. But it's getting late, and…"

"Right, of course," Patrick interrupted, his smile apologetic. "Thank you again for everything. You're a lifesaver." He stood up, the cat nestled comfortably in his arms.

As he reached the door, I blurted out, "Wait!" The surprise on his face gave me a fleeting moment of doubt, but I pressed on. "Did you ever find out what happened to Sarah? Did the police…?"

Patrick's smile vanished, replaced by a mask of pain. "There were leads, but nothing concrete. It's like she fell off the face of the earth." He paused, then added softly, "But I never gave up hope. And maybe…" His gaze met mine, a spark of curiosity flickering in his eyes. "Maybe seeing you has given me a reason to hope again."

The weight of his words settled on me like a physical blow. Hope. Was it a reckless gamble, or a lifeline thrown across a chasm of despair? I didn't know. But in that moment, staring into the eyes of a stranger who had lost someone precious, I knew my path forward had irrevocably changed.

“You look exactly the same. Just like twins.” I couldn’t believe my eyes.

“Do you have any picture of her?”

He had one in his wallet. The girl in the picture was exactly me. And she wore something on her ear - the earring in the shape of the crescent moon, just like my birthmark.

“Who is she?” I asked.