Page 41 of Gambler's Conceit
Miss K wanders our way, with Nacho on her tail. The kitten looks like he wants to pounce on her, with Miss K fully oblivious to him. She jumps onto the sofa and curls up against me on my other side, leaving Nacho confounded on what to do.
“Seven,” I begin. “You know we feed the cats in the afternoon, don’t you?”
He blinks at me. “What?”
“I was out late, but if you’re around, you can feed the cats,” I say. “Cats appreciate consistency. I try to give Miss K her dinner at 7 p.m. Nacho will beg for food less if he knows when he’s getting his dinner, too.”
Seven frowns at that. “Oh. I just thought…” He trails off. “I mean, he’s always just eaten when I feed him. I didn’t think about set times or anything.” He licks his lips, suddenly radiating anxiety. “Is it bad that I didn’t feed them today?”
I need to tread carefully now. “They survived that entire extra hour of hunger. But there’s no reason to make them wait if we don’t need to. Nacho’s a growing boy, and he needs all the nutrients he can get.”
“Yeah.” Seven gnaws on his bottom lip. “He probably wouldn’t have to go to the vet if I’d been able to feed him regularly, huh?”
“Considering he’s an intact male?” I scoff. “He needs to get neutered either way, before he starts spraying all over the apartment.”
Seven’s bewilderment is palpable, but he only says, “Yeah, we wouldn’t want that.”
Nacho finally jumps onto the arm of the couch, and from there squishes himself into the space between Miss K and the side of the couch. She growls at him, but she doesn’t attack.
“Unneutered male cats urinate to mark their territory,” I explain, petting Miss K. “It smells awful and causes a big mess. Since neither of us wants to deal with that, we’ll get Nacho’s balls removed and nip that behavior in the bud.”
“And that’s okay for him?” Seven persists. “Getting his balls cut off? He’s not going to be like… messed up because of them hurting him like that?”
Sometimes, Seven is so savvy and jaded that it’s easy to forget that he’s not what he pretends to be. Other times, I’m reminded of just how vulnerable he is.
“He won’t feel a thing,” I promise him. “Miss K is spayed, too. This’ll ensure that Nacho won’t feel the need to escape to find a female to breed with.”
“Okay,” Seven says. He doesn’t sound convinced, but he goes back to watching the show. A few minutes tick by, then he says, “I’m sorry about not feeding the cats. I don’t want to mess up Nacho.”
He sounds genuinely distressed by that thought, and I pull him closer to me. “Nacho will be fine. He’s happy he’s here, with us, and has steady food and companionship.” I pet Nacho, who chirps and curls to reveal his belly. “How did you get Nacho, anyway?”
“I found him,” Seven says slowly. “He was… I mean, he was small and cute, and I was sitting outside—” He catches himself, shaking his head before going on, “and anyway, he came up to me and wanted food and pets and scratches and I couldn’t leave him behind, you know?” He looks at me, like he’s pleading for me to understand. “I didn’t know what to do with him, so I just… stuck him in my bag, and I was afraid he’d suffocate at first, but he liked it there, and he just stayed with me. Then I met you. I haven’t had him that long.”
“Cats can be like that,” I say vaguely. Every cat person I know has some saying about how cats find their own owners, or that they adopt their humans. It sounds a bit like projecting to me, but Miss K seems to enjoy my company. “We’ll make sure Nacho is in good health and will live a long, easy life from now on.”
Seven studies me, then he nods. “He’s lucky I found you. I don’t know if I could’ve kept taking care of him if I hadn’t.”
Not, “I’m lucky I found you,” but “Nacho is lucky I found you.”
Still, it’s progress.
Before I can comment, there’s a knock on the door, then Vortex walks in with Havoc in tow.
Vortex looks between us. “Sorry, boss. Want us to come back in a few minutes?”
I shake my head. “No. Seven and I are starving. You brought the sushi?”
Havoc grumbles loudly. “Why did you order sushi in this city? There’s no way this fish is anywhere near fresh enough for it. You’re paying premium for old, raw fish.”
Seven scowls at me. “We’re having raw fish for dinner?” He shakes his head. “Nope. Nacho can have mine. I’ll see if he left any cat food behind.”
I smile and tap his nose. “I’m having sushi, Vortex is having sushi. You can try some sushi. But I did also order non-fishy dishes.”
“Yeah, there’s chicken katsu,” Havoc says. “And all the sides. The standard California rolls, if you like those.”
Seven’s expression is guarded, and I’d bet Miss K that he has no idea what we’re talking about. “Okay. I’ll try the chicken. But raw fish just sounds gross, Caleb.”
“It’s pretty good, Seven,” Vortex offers. “You should try everything at least once.”