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Katherine Harper paced her living room as she waited for the guest she had just buzzed up. She had been tense all day in anticipation of this moment, and now that it had arrived she was practically humming with nervous energy.
She paused, one foot in midair and a sweep of brown hair tickling her chin, when she caught sight of her yellow-and-brown tortoiseshell cat Matilda watching her from the sofa. “What do you think, Matty? Are you as anxious about this visit as I am?”
Matty squeezed her green eyes shut for a moment of meditation before reopening them. Then she stretched her front paws in front of her and separated her jaws into a huge yawn.
Kat smirked. “I envy you, you know that, Matty girl? One of these days you need to give me a lesson on how to be more zen.”
Three sharp raps sounded on her apartment door, jerking Kat to attention. She drew in a deep breath, waited until she felt relatively steady, then went to let her guest in.
The woman on the other side of the threshold flung her arms out as she came into view. “I’m here!” she announced.
Kat gave herself a moment to take in Maybelle Harper. Her mother hadn’t changed much since Christmas, the last time she had stepped foot in Cherry Hills, Washington. Now, eleven months later, she had on a leopard-print top, skin-tight blue jeans, and open-toed yellow pumps that seemed more suitable for summer than the tail end of fall. At least she’d had enough sense to wear a jacket, Kat noted, despite how the thin, pink material with lace trim appeared to be more decorative than functional.
Maybelle took a step forward. “It’s so good to see you, baby.”
Kat allowed her mother to wrap her arms around her, only belatedly remembering to return the hug. She wondered if the gesture felt as awkward to Maybelle as it did to her. Kat had spent most of her childhood in foster care, and even now, fourteen months after they had reconnected, she sometimes caught herself thinking of Maybelle Harper as the fictional character borne from her childhood imagination rather than an actual, flesh-and-blood woman.
When the embrace ended, Kat spied Tom sniffing their guest’s bright red toenails, the polish so fresh it looked wet. Upon completing his inspection, the brown-and-black feline peered up at Kat. The quirk of his whiskers suggested he was just as baffled by Maybelle’s choice of November footwear as his human.
Maybelle jerked her foot back. “What’s it doing?”
“He is checking you out,” Kat informed her.
Maybelle’s sudden movement had caused the shiny blue-and-green bauble affixed to the center of her pump to jiggle, an effect that didn’t go unnoticed by Tom. He grew still, his pupils dilating to twice their normal size and his tail twitching in anticipation, before he took a swipe at it.
Maybelle shrieked. “Did you see that? It attacked me.”
“He likes that sparkly thing you have on there.”
“My dragonfly charm?” Maybelle raised her foot off the floor and rotated her ankle as if trying to view the accessory from a cat’s perspective.
“Is that what it is?” Kat shrugged. “What can I say. He likes bugs.”
“It’s not a bug.” Maybelle drew back as though personally offended by the comment. “Dragonflies symbolize rebirth, self-discovery, and new beginnings. Their existence encourages us to embrace our inner strengths and remain true to our personal selves.”
Tom’s head tilted in bewilderment. Clearly he just thought dragonflies were fun to chase.
“Oh, no.” Maybelle swiveled from side to side. “I’m missing one.”
“Missing what?” Kat asked.
“One of my dragonfly shoe charms. They’re clip-ons.”
Maybelle scurried back into the third-floor corridor as if she might spot the runaway charm lying just outside of Kat’s apartment unit. Her hurried movements caused Tom’s ears to prick. He tiptoed toward the door, studiously avoiding eye contact with Kat.
Kat scooped him up before he could make a run for it, earning herself a yelp of protest.
“It’s not out here,” Maybelle said. “It must have slipped off in the car.”
“I’m sure it will turn up.” Kat couldn’t imagine something that big and gaudy going unnoticed for long. “Why don’t you come in and sit down, Maybelle?”
Maybelle’s face fell. Disappointment over not being called Mom, Kat presumed. She felt a surge of guilt over the unintentional snub and vowed to try harder.
“So . . . Mom,” Kat ventured as Maybelle walked past her, “how’s life in Estacada, Oregon?” She opted not to point out how it was nearing eight p.m., two hours later than when her mother had told her she would arrive.
Maybelle tossed her flimsy coat onto the arm of the sofa opposite Matty before collapsing onto the cushions. “Same old, same old. Boring but cozy. You ought to come visit me sometime.”
“Maybe I will.”
Tom freed himself from Kat’s grip with a perfectly executed full-body twist. As soon as his feet hit the floor he raced toward Maybelle, no doubt eager to see how much attention he could milk from their guest. The big cat loved to be petted and wasn’t shy about begging for it, even from people who had made it clear they weren’t fond of four-legged furries.
Maybelle didn’t pay any mind when Tom hopped onto the empty couch cushion next to her. She was busy inspecting the ends of her shoulder-length hair. The mahogany-hued tresses looked a bit lighter than they had in Maybelle’s last selfie, and Kat wondered if she’d recently gotten it colored.
“Your hair looks nice,” Kat said as she closed the door and sat down next to Matty.
Maybelle beamed. “Thank you, baby. I must say, you’re looking positively gorgeous yourself.”
Kat flushed, unused to such praise. “Thank you.”
Tom meowed before licking one paw and dragging it down his face. He seemed to be preening for his own compliment.
Maybelle straightened up, her eyes roving around. “Speaking of gorgeous, where are you hiding that strapping young hunk of a boyfriend?”
“Andrew is working tonight.”
“Working? On a holiday weekend?”
“It’s only Tuesday. Thanksgiving is still two days away. Besides, he’s a police detective, remember? His hours aren’t like most people’s.”
Maybelle flopped against the back of the couch with a sigh. “That’s a shame. And here I was hoping he would put those big, manly muscles of his to use and give my feet a rub. They’re aching after driving for five hours.”
“They might not hurt as much if you wore flats instead of heels,” Kat suggested.
Maybelle’s lips puckered. Clearly, she had expected her daughter to express more sympathy over her plight.
Kat fought off another pinch of guilt as she reached into her jeans pocket. “Before I forget, here.”
Matty perked up as Kat tossed the shiny object she produced onto the coffee table. It landed with a clank, a sound intriguing enough to rouse even the laziest of house pets. Without further ado, the tortoiseshell stood up and leapt from the couch to the coffee table to investigate.
“What’s that?” Maybelle asked.
“My spare key set, so you can let yourself into the apartment if I’m not here. The big one fits the main building entrance, and the other one is for my unit.”
Maybelle made a face. “This town has certainly changed, hasn’t it? And not for the better. Back when I lived here, nobody ever locked their doors.”
“That was thirty years ago.”
“Yes, I know. It just makes me sad this isn’t the same sleepy small town I grew up in. Even Stephanie says she deadbolts her doors now.”
“How is your friend, anyway?”
A smile softened Maybelle’s face, and Kat was struck by how pretty she was, an effect she couldn’t entirely attribute to her mother’s skillfully applied makeup.
“Steph’s good,” Maybelle said. “I told her I’d be here for a few days and would try to see her at some point.”
Kat nodded, grateful her mother hadn’t suggested they spend Thanksgiving with Stephanie’s family. She was looking forward to enjoying a small, intimate dinner with just Maybelle, Andrew, and the cats.
Matty grew bored with the keys after only a few swats. She surveyed the room in search of her next napping spot before circling back to the couch. Instead of heading for her usual corner though, she curled up next to Kat. Kat rested her hand on the tortoiseshell, basking in the little animal’s comforting warmth.
“So,” Maybelle said, inspecting one of her manicured fingernails, “what’s involved with this seminar you signed us up for tomorrow?”
“It’s not a seminar, it’s a therapy session. And we’ll be talking, mostly. The therapist I started seeing a few months ago thinks I have some interpersonal challenges that go all the way back to my childhood. Dr. D has been urging me to invite you to a session so we can work through some of the issues holding me back from being truly happy.”
Maybelle wrinkled her nose. “I don’t see why we need this Dr. D person there if all we’re going to do is talk to each other. Can’t we do that here, just the two of us?”
“It’s not the same.”
“Why not?”
Kat shifted positions, earning a glare from Matty. She felt antsy merely thinking about tomorrow’s session. She kept picturing her mother sitting across from her, a defensive look on her face as she rejected Kat’s version of her childhood. Something Kat had come to learn from their email exchanges and phone conversations over the past year was her mother often sugarcoated things. If Kat were feeling more generous she might have called Maybelle an optimist, but that term came with a positive connotation she didn’t feel was particularly beneficial in therapy.
“If we talked here, there wouldn’t be any structure,” Kat said. “Tomorrow, Dr. D will be there to help guide the conversation.”
“Well, if you ask me, it seems like a waste of money. How much are you paying this guy to sit around and listen to us talk?”
“Dr. D is a woman. And the money is irrelevant.”
Maybelle arched an eyebrow. “Irrelevant?”
Kat wanted to snap that she was doing this for her happiness, and how could you put a price on that? But she reminded herself that her mother was here as a favor. And Kat really did want to have a better relationship with her. So, she bit her tongue.
Maybelle must have come to the conclusion this wasn’t how she wanted their reunion to go either. She folded her hands in her lap and crossed her legs. “So, let’s talk about happy things. This is the time to give thanks, after all.”
Kat wasn’t particularly in the mood to make small talk, but she supposed they would be getting into enough heavy stuff tomorrow. “All right.” She thought for a second. “Matty did the cutest thing the other day.”
The corners of Maybelle’s mouth turned down. Evidently she hadn’t meant to discuss the cats when she’d suggested they focus on happy things. Nevertheless, Kat pressed on.
“She was sitting on the floor, and I was reaching down to pet her. But I must not have been moving fast enough for her liking, because when my hand was about six inches above her head she stood on her hind feet and grabbed my wrist with both paws to pull it toward her.” Kat gave Matty an affectionate scratch. “It was so precious.”
Matty extended one paw and laid it on Kat’s thigh as though to offer Maybelle a live demonstration of how darling she was. But Maybelle wasn’t looking. She was too busy studying her cuticles.
Disappointment washed through Kat. Clearly her mother didn’t find Matty’s behavior as charming as she had.
Kat reminded herself to be gracious. Maybelle had revealed during her last visit that she had owned a rather combative cat when she was younger, an experience that had instilled within her a deep-seated aversion to the species. It would be unrealistic to expect her to forget about that childhood trauma simply because so many years had passed.
Matty glanced at Kat. The look on her face seemed to say, ‘Forget about her. We know I’m adorable, and that’s all that matters.’
Maybelle jumped off the couch so unexpectedly that both Tom and Matty flattened their ears back. “I should be turning in.”
“Now? It’s barely eight o’clock.”
“Don’t forget, we have your thing tomorrow, bright and early.”
“Our therapy appointment isn’t until ten.”
“Yes, well, truth be told, that drive just tuckered me out.” Maybelle released an exaggerated yawn that put Matty’s earlier one to shame. “Do me a favor and bring my bags up for me, will you? All of my beauty supplies are down there, and I can’t turn in before going through my nightly drill.”
Kat slid Matty’s paw off her lap, struggling to process Maybelle’s sudden bout of exhaustion. “I guess I could do that.”
“Thank you, doll. If I skip even one day of treatment, I look like a dried-up old troll.” Maybelle squinted at Kat. “You could do with implementing a skin care regimen yourself. I know you’re only thirty-three, but it’s never too early to lay the groundwork for the future.”
Kat touched her forehead as a wave of self-consciousness swept over her. She wasn’t sure if her mother had meant her comment as a dig, but she couldn’t help the sinking feeling that tugged at her insides.
Somehow, it wouldn’t surprise her one bit if tomorrow ended up being the most trying day of her life.
* * *
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