My brows furrow when I see Noah standing still with his back to me, his shoulders coiled tight.
“What is it?” I don’t have to wait for him to answer because there it is, the thing that almost made us one with God.
A cat.
A cat lazying around in the middle of the road, licking its paw without a care in the world.
The absurdity of the situation has me swiveling my head to Noah, only for the reaction on his face to have me sputtering out a laugh.
His glum face looks so tortured right now, not because he’s hurt. But because he can’t fathom being scared to death by this tiny little creature that has no idea how it made our souls leave our bodies for a second there.
The sound of me howling, even though I try to hide it with a cough, has Noah glaring at me as if I personally offended him.
“I’m sorry,” I sputter between my bouts of laughter, “but that was…your face…” Unable to form a coherent sentence when I’m fighting for oxygen to reach my lungs, I bend over with my hands on my knees to contain myself. But nothing works as my eyes continue to track between the oblivious cat and the enraged man.
Noah crosses his arms at his chest, twisting his body toward me. “Oh, you think this is funny, do you?” He cocks an eyebrow at me, daring me to answer.
I stand straight, raising a hand between us, myindex finger and thumb a hair’s breadth away from each other. “Just a little.” I try. I really do try as I bite the inside of my cheek, but the dang chuckle escapes my mouth again.
Noah scoffs, shaking his head at me, but I catch the tiny twitch of his lips. “Sure. Go ahead. Laugh all you want. Laugh like we almost didn’t end up in an ER trying to save this damned cat.”
With another scathing glare at the creature, he shakes his head and turns on his heels to head back to the car.
“Wait, where are you going?” My voice comes out as a yell.
Surprised, he looks at me and then jerks his head at the car. “Where do you think, Andie? We’re going home?” he says it as if it’s the obvious course of action.
I point at the cat still on the ground, paying us no heed as it continues to lick itself. “We can’t just leave it here!” My eyes wide, voice a little higher than normal.
Noah’s own eyes widen at my outburst as he looks at me for a second and then continues to browse around us. It’s like he’s hoping for someone to come to his aid and support what he has to say next.
“You can’t be serious?” His voice shows no inflection of emotion as he stands stalk still by the hood of the car, his eyes practically screaming to drop the idea and get back into the car with him.
We continue to glare at each other—my eyes narrowed at him to try and dare refute me, his eyes wide in horror of what he already senses I’m about to do.
“No,” he spits, his jaw clenched tight.
I don’t dignify it with a response and harrumph at him, flicking my hair off my shoulder. Moving to the kitten on the ground, I crouch in front of it. For the first time, I take in its condition.
The cat’s fur is matted with dust and dirt, and its ginger color is dull. It’s obvious the cat is malnourished, and I can guess why: there’s no collar around its neck to indicate it has an owner.
This poor thing.
I feel bad knowing it had to spend its life on the street with no one to rely on. Must’ve been so lonely.
I have no idea how old the cat is, but I reckon it has been on the streets for months, going hungry for lord knows howlong.
“Get me that leftover tuna sandwich from the basket!” I tell Noah from my crouched position. I prepared some meat options too, not knowing Noah was a vegetarian until today. It’s to keep his cholesterol level in check, he told me.
He rolls his eyes at me but does so without protest. Coming to a stand next to me, he passes me the sandwich.
“Thank you.” I take it from him and gently extend it to the cat. I don’t want to spook it.
It has the cat’s eyes darting to me in an instant as it ceases all its movements. Its beady, cautious eyes bore into mine, assessing me, trying to gauge my intentions.
With my outstretched hand, I try to appear as calm and sincere as I can with a six-foot-five man looming behind me. When the cat does not attempt to move, I slant a glare in Noah’s direction, silently telling him to take his scary energy somewhere else.
The man grunts, rolls his eyes at us, and goes to stand near the car. It doesn’t take the cat long to stand and sniff the air, the smell of the tuna tickling its nostrils.