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Authors: Melody Carlson
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homes for your grandmother’s cats. I might be interested. That is if you still have any cats left.”
“Definitely,” Garrison assured him. “I have four.”
Vincent looked relieved. “I had a cat named Gracie for years. A big orange cat that I was very attached to. But she got a kidney disease and passed away last winter. I told myself I wouldn’t get another cat, but I suppose I’m having second thoughts now.”
“Cats can be great companions,” Garrison said positively as they moved closer to the wall to escape the windblown rain.
“Yes, I think you’re right. And since I’m spending more time at home . . .” He grimly shook his head. “You see, I was forced into retirement last spring. So I find myself rambling around my house. Last week Cara was trying to convince me that I need a cat.” He chuckled. “The more I think about it, the more I think she might be right.”
Garrison quickly went over the preliminary questions and, convinced that Vincent was a good candidate, he explained about the need for a home visit. Although Vincent looked bewildered by this, he agreed. “Why don’t you come over for coffee tomorrow morning,” he suggested. “That’ll give me a chance to straighten up some.”
They agreed on the time and Vincent gave Garrison directions to his house. Garrison tried not to do the Snoopyhappy dance as he hurried across the parking lot to the car. If Vincent took a cat, that would leave just three cats to place. And his new ad hadn’t even been run in the local paper yet.
As he drove home, he pondered over the fact that Cara had sent two potential cat owners his way. Perhaps she didn’t despise him as much as he’d imagined. Or perhaps she was just concerned for the cats in his care. Whatever her motives, he still owed her his gratitude.
On Monday morning, Garrison showed up at Vincent’s house at ten o’clock sharp. It was a small, modest, midcentury home, but it was tidy and neat in a plain and simple sort of way.
“Do you mind having coffee in the kitchen?” Vincent asked apologetically. “I’m not used to entertaining much.”
“The kitchen is perfect,” Garrison told him.
“This isn’t exactly how I planned for my life to go,” Vincent said as he placed a coffee mug in front of Garrison.
“How so?”
“Well, I had hoped to retire with my wife by my side.” He let out a sad sigh as he sat on the other side of the well-worn table. “Lynnette left me about ten years ago. Talk about being blindsided.” He took a sip. “Sure didn’t see that one coming.”
“Sorry about that.”
“And then there was my retirement.” Another long sigh. “Thought I’d walk away with a nice little package and benefits, you know. Not a windfall, mind you, but enough to do a little traveling or maybe just fix up my little house.”
“That didn’t happen?”
Vincent let out a sarcastic laugh. “Not hardly. Seems theeconomy is responsible for my loss. Anyway that’s what I was told. Didn’t even get a gold watch. But I guess that’s not so unusual these days.”
“That’s too bad.”
He shrugged. “I suppose I should consider myself lucky to still have this house.” He glanced around. “I know it’s not much, but at least it’s mine. Just wish I could afford to do some improvements though. I’m pretty handy with hammer and nails.”
“Well, the house looks sturdy enough,” Garrison observed. Then he explained about how he was doing some much-needed repairs to Gram’s house. “But I have to admit I don’t really know what I’m doing.”
Vincent’s brows arched. “Well, if you need any help, just call.”
“Really?” Garrison studied him, gauging if this offer was just casual friendliness or something he could depend upon.
He nodded. “You bet. At the very least I can give you some pointers and tips. And I’ve got lots of time.”
“That’d be great, Vincent. I’ll take you up on it.” Garrison described some of the projects he
“Definitely,” Garrison assured him. “I have four.”
Vincent looked relieved. “I had a cat named Gracie for years. A big orange cat that I was very attached to. But she got a kidney disease and passed away last winter. I told myself I wouldn’t get another cat, but I suppose I’m having second thoughts now.”
“Cats can be great companions,” Garrison said positively as they moved closer to the wall to escape the windblown rain.
“Yes, I think you’re right. And since I’m spending more time at home . . .” He grimly shook his head. “You see, I was forced into retirement last spring. So I find myself rambling around my house. Last week Cara was trying to convince me that I need a cat.” He chuckled. “The more I think about it, the more I think she might be right.”
Garrison quickly went over the preliminary questions and, convinced that Vincent was a good candidate, he explained about the need for a home visit. Although Vincent looked bewildered by this, he agreed. “Why don’t you come over for coffee tomorrow morning,” he suggested. “That’ll give me a chance to straighten up some.”
They agreed on the time and Vincent gave Garrison directions to his house. Garrison tried not to do the Snoopyhappy dance as he hurried across the parking lot to the car. If Vincent took a cat, that would leave just three cats to place. And his new ad hadn’t even been run in the local paper yet.
As he drove home, he pondered over the fact that Cara had sent two potential cat owners his way. Perhaps she didn’t despise him as much as he’d imagined. Or perhaps she was just concerned for the cats in his care. Whatever her motives, he still owed her his gratitude.
On Monday morning, Garrison showed up at Vincent’s house at ten o’clock sharp. It was a small, modest, midcentury home, but it was tidy and neat in a plain and simple sort of way.
“Do you mind having coffee in the kitchen?” Vincent asked apologetically. “I’m not used to entertaining much.”
“The kitchen is perfect,” Garrison told him.
“This isn’t exactly how I planned for my life to go,” Vincent said as he placed a coffee mug in front of Garrison.
“How so?”
“Well, I had hoped to retire with my wife by my side.” He let out a sad sigh as he sat on the other side of the well-worn table. “Lynnette left me about ten years ago. Talk about being blindsided.” He took a sip. “Sure didn’t see that one coming.”
“Sorry about that.”
“And then there was my retirement.” Another long sigh. “Thought I’d walk away with a nice little package and benefits, you know. Not a windfall, mind you, but enough to do a little traveling or maybe just fix up my little house.”
“That didn’t happen?”
Vincent let out a sarcastic laugh. “Not hardly. Seems theeconomy is responsible for my loss. Anyway that’s what I was told. Didn’t even get a gold watch. But I guess that’s not so unusual these days.”
“That’s too bad.”
He shrugged. “I suppose I should consider myself lucky to still have this house.” He glanced around. “I know it’s not much, but at least it’s mine. Just wish I could afford to do some improvements though. I’m pretty handy with hammer and nails.”
“Well, the house looks sturdy enough,” Garrison observed. Then he explained about how he was doing some much-needed repairs to Gram’s house. “But I have to admit I don’t really know what I’m doing.”
Vincent’s brows arched. “Well, if you need any help, just call.”
“Really?” Garrison studied him, gauging if this offer was just casual friendliness or something he could depend upon.
He nodded. “You bet. At the very least I can give you some pointers and tips. And I’ve got lots of time.”
“That’d be great, Vincent. I’ll take you up on it.” Garrison described some of the projects he
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