“I’ll have Megan tally up all the GoFundMe money and make sure it’s accounted for separately,” Caryn assured us.
“Before you go play with your friends, you have to do two things,” Mom said.
I looked at Dad and gave him my best put-out teen expression. I mean, seriously—‘Go play with your friends’? Was I six?
“I think we should get going,” Dad said to Caryn.
He just didn’t want to be here if my mom and I decided to go at each other.
“Catch Satan’s Spawn and put him in the cat carrier I have in the back of my car. Then I want you to go to your grandmother’s and pick up Duke.”
My grandmother loved my dog, and if she came into town, she would swing by and pick him up. My mom had told me he needed exercise when I wasn’t home, and he could run all over the farm to get it.
On the way to my apartment, I opened my bags and threw a load into the laundry. My housekeeper in LA didn’t come until Friday, so I was on my own to get my clothes clean. When I entered my apartment, the golden kitten was sleeping on the back of the couch. Once I got near him, he opened an eye.
“Hey, there, remember me?” I asked as I reached out to rub his back.
He seemed to like that and began to purr. He wasn’t so bad.
I picked him up, and he rubbed his head against my chest. I loved him up and then put him into the pet carrier. He just curled up and went back to sleep. My mom must have scared him somehow. I took him down to the kitchen, and Mom couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
“Did you have to bash him with a broom and knock him out?” she asked.
“I don’t understand what all the fuss was about. He was sleeping on the back of the couch, so I picked him up and put him in there. He seems like a sweet kitty,” I assured her.
“I call bullshit. That kitten is not sweet,” Mom informed me. “Now go get your hound. I’ll finish your laundry.”
That was more than a fair trade. I left before Mom changed her mind.
◊◊◊
When I stepped out back, I found Cassidy waiting for me.
“I’m your security today,” she informed me.
I’d planned to slip out without any security so I could drive the Dodge Challenger SRT Demon. But getting a chance to finally see my buddy Cassidy more than made up for it. I wrapped her in a big hug and kissed her forehead.
“Thank you,” I said for the hundredth time.
She’d been there to stop Aaron when he’d abused my baby boy and my dog. I could never fully repay her for that.
“Your mom sent me a text saying you needed to drive somewhere. Where are we going?” Cassidy asked.
“My farm. Grandma Dawson is dog-sitting, and I have to pick up Duke,” I explained.
“Good, I get to drive through the park.”
The park’s twisty drive was one of my favorites in the Demon. Part of Cassidy’s repayment was a boon I’d granted her to let her drive my car. The sight of Cassidy’s happy anticipation was enough for me to go along with my promise to her. I got in and buckled up.
“Tell me about the tigers,” I said.
I had become an expert at nodding and making agreement sounds when a girl launched into a monologue about a topic she was enamored with. Brook had already heard it all from Cassidy and felt she had to repeat it to me, so I was able to half-tune Cassidy out.
Meanwhile, I contemplated how truly messed up getting money from Southwest Central State was. There was a military term that fit this: FUBAR. It stood for F-ed Up Beyond Any Recognition, describing something that was a complete disaster. This situation had all the earmarks of heading there.
“They said I could bring them home if I got a big-enough enclosure,” Cassidy concluded as we pulled into the drive.
“Uh, huh,” I said.
Cassidy reached over and smacked me in the back of the head.
“You didn’t listen to a word I said,” she accused.
“You said you had a good time,” I tried as I quickly got out of the car.
I whistled for my boy. I heard his frustrated bark that told me something was up. Since Duke didn’t come, I decided I better go see what was up, as Cassidy followed me. We found my grandmother wrestling with a goat, trying to get its head unstuck from the fence gate. She saw me, smiled, and then frowned.
“We’ve had problems with the gate getting open and the goats escaping. I finally found the culprit. This one figured out how to stick his head through and unlock it,” she explained.
I had my doubts until he turned his head and licked the knob on the bolt latch. It was one of those that you flipped up the knob and then pulled the bolt back to open the gate. The crafty devil was smart enough to figure it out. His only problem was his head was really stuck between the slats.
“You should attach a board to his horns so he can’t get his head through,” I suggested.
My grandma thought about it for a moment and then smiled.
“Or we could have goat for dinner.”
Cassidy blanched at that idea. I don’t think she ever seriously thought about where the meat at the grocery store came from. I also knew that this wouldn’t be the first goat that had crossed my grandmother and gone on to become a tasty meal.
“Let me try to get him free,” I suggested.
