Acting Out (3 page)

“Fantastic!” Sunita says.

David nods. “We had to get him his own toothbrush so he’d stop swiping ours!”

“What a crazy cat!” Maggie beams. “Oh, before I forget, Gran sent you this toothbrush. It’s specially designed for cats, and is smaller than a human toothbrush—in case Rover gets tired of carrying that big one around. And, you know, in case you want to actually brush his teeth.” My cousin hands over the skinny brush.

“How’d you teach a cat to fetch?” Brenna asks.

“He knew how already,” David answers. “I wish I had taught him. That would have been cool. I’m going to try to teach him other doggy tricks like rolling over and begging.”

“Do it again,” Brenna says. “I want to get an action shot.”

David takes the toothbrush from Rover’s mouth. Rover sits. And waits. David tosses it again and Rover goes running.

Josh and Jules are looking at the cat and whispering. I wonder what’s up with that. I hear one of them say something like “backdoor cat.”

“But I didn’t know he could fetch,” I hear Jules say.

David must have heard her, too. “What about a backdoor cat?” he says.

“Jules used to take care of this cat when he was at our place,” Josh says.

“Your place?” David asks.

“Where did you get the cat?” Josh asks.

“What, do you think I took your cat?” David stands and looks worried. “I didn’t know you even had a cat, Jules. I thought you just had a rabbit.”

“No, no, it’s not my cat. Technically,” Jules says.

“Technically?” David says, scooping up Rover and holding him close to his face.

“Well, this cat was a stray that used to hang out by our house. I mean, I’d been petting him and giving him water, but I hadn’t talked my parents into letting me keep him yet.” Jules’s voice is small, and she looks like she might cry.

“How do you know this is the same cat?” David asks.

Jules starts to answer but nothing comes out. Josh jumps in. “The notch on his ear, the coloring, the dark “
M
” above his eyes, and that striped tail.”

“I got Rover at the animal shelter. He’s the cat a bunch of us saw at Stream Cleanup Day. Somebody brought him to the shelter. He had no tags and nobody claimed him. Nobody.” David looks at Josh a little angrily, and a little fearfully.

Josh puts up his hands.

“He wasn’t our cat, Jules just watched out for him.” He looks at Jules as if he is checking to make sure that’s true.

Jules nods. Nobody says anything.

And then, Jules puts her arms out to take the cat from David. David’s eyes are big, but he lets her take him.

Jules holds Rover up under her chin and rubs Rover on the “
M
” on his forehead. Rover yawns and rubs his head against Jules’s shoulder.

Jules sighs and says, “I’m so glad that Rover finally has a good home. Rover is lucky to have you, David.”

I let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding.

The door flings open and David’s five-year-old sister, Ashley, shouts, “It’s time for lunch. Mom said!”

Rover jumps from Jules’s arms and runs under the bed.

“You don’t have to shout,” David tells his sister.

“Sometimes I do,” she says. Then Ashley sees
me. “Zoe!” she shouts and hugs me around the waist. “I’ve been waiting for you for a long, long, long time. I’m so happiest you’re back.”

“I’m so happiest, too,” I say, bending down and giving Ashley a squeeze.

“Ooh, can I wear your necklace?” Ashley fingers my beads. I take them off and put them over her head.

“So sparkly! Okay, come on, it’s pizza time!” she shrieks, pulling on my hand and leading me to the kitchen. The rest of the Vet Volunteers follow. My heart starts to race a little, knowing that Brian might be downstairs.

We all find seats at the table. I don’t see Brian anywhere, but I pull the lip gloss from my pocket and apply some just in case.

“Napkins in your laps, everyone,” Mrs. Hutchinson says, setting the pizza on the table.

Everyone starts noisily passing around the trays of mini pizzas and a bowl of salad. I guess Mrs. Hutchinson figured we needed something healthier than just pizza after all. As I reach for the salad, I see Brian come in. I sit up straighter and flash a big smile at David, hoping that Brian will notice. But he just stands at the kitchen counter, eating pizza with one hand and playing on his phone with the other. I wonder if he’s texting
some girl. Ashley is beside me, happily chomping on her pizza and swinging her legs playfully.

Then there is a flash and a
click
. Brenna has taken a picture of her plate.

“What are you doing?” David asks.

“I have a food setting on my camera, and I wanted to try it out,” she says, lifting her camera and taking a picture of the salad.

“Food setting?” David repeats. “Do you have a drink setting, too?”

“No, just a food setting,” Brenna says, adjusting her lens.

“What about a fool setting?” Maggie asks. “Because that would be Josh and David. You should definitely take a picture with the fool setting.”

Brenna points her camera at Josh and David while they make silly faces.
Click
. I glance over at Mrs. Hutchinson. She doesn’t seem upset that this lunch has turned into a loud party. Maybe it’s because our napkins are still in our laps.

The kitchen grows noisier as the party continues. Mrs. Hutchinson serves chocolate-chip cookies. They’re good, warm, and chewy. I once made cookies like this but used whole-wheat flour, a bit of flaxseed, and some oatmeal. They were delicious, too, but also nutritious. I am
about to mention this to Brenna—her family is into healthy eating, too—but then there’s a knock on the door. Josh and Jules’s dad has come to get them, and the twins introduce me to him.

“Nice to meet you,” Mr. Darrow says, shaking my hand. “I expect we’ll see you around our place quite a bit. The kids have fixed up our basement as a Vet Volunteers hangout, but I’m sure you’ve already heard about that. Come on Josh, Jules, let’s get moving.”

Hmm. I hadn’t heard about the hangout, but I haven’t really talked to Maggie yet. Josh punches David in the arm as he walks to the door. David grabs him in a headlock. Boys. They can’t just say good-bye to their friends.

Jules takes a step outside, then turns around, biting her lip. “David, I’m glad Rover has a real home,” she says. “Honest.”

“Thanks,” David says. It looks like he’s going to say something else, but then he just waves at Jules and looks at his feet.

“We ought to get going, too,” Brenna says. “You ready, Sunita? Great cat, David!” She snaps a picture of David and heads out the door with Sunita following behind.

I never did get a chance to tell Brenna to take a picture of Brian. Bummer.

I glance around to check out Brian just as he looks my way. Ack! I blush, but Brian smiles and nods. Out of the corner of my eye I see David frown. Now what’s up? There’s more drama in Ambler today than back in Hollywood.

T
here is no reason to be frightened of tofu,” I say, flipping the bean curd over in the pan. Now that I’ve had two full nights of sleep, my energy is back and I’m cooking an early dinner for my cousin and grandmother. Maggie manages a doubtful smile at my words. Gran looks just as uncomfortable. Really, what do these two eat when I’m not here? Actually, I know the answer to that. They eat frozen dinners and canned soup. Oh, and snack cakes. I’ve seen the wrappers in the garbage.

Maggie’s old basset hound, Sherlock Holmes, is under my feet at the stove. Each time I need something from the refrigerator I have to take a giant step over him. Considering the size of his belly, this is not easy to do. At least Sherlock doesn’t seem as suspicious as the two sitting at the table.

Gran looks at the bowl of cranberry-apple chutney I’ve prepared. “I think I got all the
ingredients on your list,” she says, “except quinoa. I’m not sure what that is or where I would even find it at Genuardi’s.” She turns to Maggie and gives her a playful little nudge. “I picked up some Pop-Tarts, too,” she whispers. Maggie grins.

“I heard that! You’re both going to rot your insides,” I say. “All right, I’m all set. Let’s eat.”

On each plate I spread a little mashed avocado and place a slice of balsamic-fried tofu on top. Then I spoon on the cranberry-apple chutney. It smells wonderful. The sweet and tangy chutney mixes with the nutty scent of the tofu. Mmm, I can’t wait to dig in.

Gran sure looks like she can wait, though. She has a strained expression on her face, but then she smiles and takes a tentative bite.

Maggie breathes deeply and says, “It looks so pretty. Kind of Christmasy with all the green and red.” She cuts a sliver and puts it on the tip of her tongue.

“Oh for Pete’s sake,” I say, and take a big bite. Yummm, it is delicious. They’d love it if they’d just give it a chance.

But then the phone rings—the clinic line. Gran jumps up to get it. Maggie looks relieved and puts her fork back down with the sliver of tofu still on it. I frown at her. She shrugs at me.

Behind us Gran is talking fast and asking questions. “How long…When…” Maggie and I catch snatches of the conversation.

Gran hangs up the phone. “Girls, I need you,” she says rushing to the door. Uh-oh. As we scrub up in the Doolittle Room, Gran fills us in.

“We have a four-month-old kitten coming in. The owners report that she is staggering and acting incredibly thirsty. This sounds dire. They’ve called from their cell so they should be here in moments. Maggie, meet them at the door and hustle them right in here. Zoe, do you remember where we keep the Ringer’s IV solution?”

Maggie scoots out of the exam room.

“Sure do,” I say, and go to the cupboard to get one clear, sealed plastic bag of Ringer’s solution. Gran will use it to replace the kitten’s lost fluids. The family said the kitten is thirsty, so I’m sure she’s suffering from dehydration, for starters.

I place the bag on Gran’s trauma cart. Gran assembles her exam equipment on the sanitized cart and puts her stethoscope around her neck. Just when we’ve finished preparing everything, I hear a commotion outside, and Maggie is there in an instant with the kitten and her family.

“Her name is Puff,” says a little boy who can’t even be old enough for kindergarten yet.
His bigger brother and sister look as worried as he does. Their mom is holding back tears. The kitten is well-named. She is a small white puffball of a cat.

“I’m going to try to find out what’s wrong with her,” Gran says. “It’d be best if you all waited out there while I examine her.”

The family heads to the waiting room with Maggie, who will ask questions and pull together any paperwork that might be necessary.

“Any chance Puff ate something she shouldn’t have?” Gran calls out.

The mother turns and says, “Not that we know of, but we’ve just started letting her wander outside. So it’s hard to say.”

Gran nods, gloves up, and quickly gets to work. I close the door behind the family. The kitten is breathing so fast. I watch as Gran listens to Puff’s heart. Gran’s brow furrows—this can’t be good. The kitten isn’t staggering anymore—in fact, she looks unconscious. Gran gently opens Puff’s eyes and shines a light into them. The kitten’s breath is still coming fast—too fast. And then Puff vomits and seizes. Gran holds her hand out to me, and I know what that means before she even says it. I should give her the Ringer’s. But before I can do that, Gran retracts her hand and reaches for the
crash cart. This is bad. Very bad. The kitten’s heart must have stopped.

Gran shocks the kitten with the defibrillator. She listens to Puff’s heart and shocks her again. Nothing. Gran pushes rhythmically on Puff’s chest, trying CPR. My heart is beating, and I can feel hot tears fighting to come out. I choke them down, stiffen my jaw, and hold the defibrillator in case Gran needs it again. But no. Gran shakes her head. Puff is gone.

“Let’s take a moment,” Gran says. I know she means that we’ll take a moment before we tell the family. We’ve done this before, but it doesn’t get easier. Gran straightens up and lets out a big sigh. She removes her gloves and I take mine off, too. Then Gran takes off her glasses, wipes her lenses, and then rubs her eyes. She takes a paper sheet from beneath the exam table and places it over Puff. She pats it and says, “Poor Puff, poor girl.” Then she nods, and I follow her out of the room. I feel so awful, but I know I have to put on a brave face. This is the hardest part of being a Vet Volunteer.

If there was anyone else in the clinic I know we would take the family into the Herriot Room so they would be alone when we gave them the bad news. But since the clinic is closed, Gran sits
down with them in the waiting room. I look at Maggie, and she can tell by looking at our faces that Puff has died. She shakes her head and walks to the counter to grab some tissues as Gran begins to talk.

“I am sorry that I don’t have good news. Puff was very sick,” Gran begins. I see the older boy sit up quickly and hear his mother take a quick inhale. The younger boy is confused, looking from Gran to his mother and siblings and back again.

“I’m afraid I could not save her,” Gran continues. “Puff—”

“She didn’t died, did she?” the little boy asks.