Catboy - Eric Walters [17]
“He’s pretty cool. Do you know any Gaelic?” I asked.
“Gaelic? Where is that coming from?”
“From our heritage. I’d like to add Gaelic to our heritage wall in the class.”
“I’ll see what I can do. Have you tried the Internet?” she asked.
“Not yet. I thought I’d try the Inter-mom first.”
We stopped at the elevator. Somebody had added more graffiti to the wall. My mother shook her head. I knew what she thought about that.
“Devon really doesn’t like the graffiti either,” I said. “He thinks they should kick people out of the building for doing things like that.”
“Devon is a smart boy.”
“He says it’s disrespectful to everybody in the building,” I said.
The elevator door opened to our floor, one inch too low. We stepped up to the corridor.
“That’s nice you’re getting to know new people, especially so many nice people,” she said.
She unlocked the door to our apartment, and we stepped inside.
“So what’s the news?” I asked.
“Let’s wait until dinner, when we can have a sit-down discussion.”
“Let’s not. You can’t start telling me something and then stop and make me wait. That’s not fair.”
She nodded her head. “You’re right. I’ll tell you. I was offered a promotion at work today.”
“That’s wonderful!” I gave her a big hug.
“It’s more responsibility and more money. Not a fortune, but a nice little raise.”
“That’s even better. To get a promotion after only being there three months is really something,” I said.
She laughed. “Sometimes you act as if you’re the parent. I told my boss I’d let him know my decision tomorrow.”
“What’s to decide? Don’t you want the job?”
“That’s what we have to discuss. The promotion means I’ll be working two evenings a week and every second Saturday morning.”
“So?”
“So, I’m not sure I should be leaving you alone more than I already do. It’s not fair to you.”
“Look, I’m not a baby. There’s nothing to discuss. Didn’t we move here so you could have a job with more chances of a promotion?”
“Well…”
“Then wouldn’t it be crazy for you not to take the job?” I asked.
She smiled.
“Take the job. We can use the money, and you deserve the promotion.”
She looked at me thoughtfully. “How old are you again?”
“Twenty-seven on my next birthday,” I said with a grin. “And that makes me old enough to know what the right thing to do is. Tell them tomorrow that you’ll take the job.”
“Okay, I’ll tell them and—” She stopped as she saw that the table was already set. “Thank you. That is very considerate.”
“Don’t I always set the table?” I asked.
“You do, but it’s still considerate, still appreciated and still worth thanking you for,” she said.
I followed her into the kitchen and pulled the KFC box out of one of the bags. There was another box underneath. I pulled it out as well.
I thought about what she’d said to the guys about only having enough chicken for the two of us.
“How much chicken did you get?” I asked.
“I bought enough for the two of us, and I got some more for your friends.”
“For my friends? But you said you didn’t have enough for them, and they couldn’t have dinner with us.”
“Not those friends.”
She opened up the bigger of the two boxes. It had bones and French fries and some buns. “For your cat friends.”
“Thanks so much!”
“That stuff was in their garbage. The guy behind the counter at KFC thought I was either a little crazy in the head or trying to get some free food.”
“The cats are going to love it.”
“I know those cats are important to you. You’ve spent a lot of time talking about them over the past couple of months,” she said.
“I guess I do talk about them a lot,” I said.
“I also know you still miss Blinky. I miss him too. Maybe someday we can get you another cat.”
“I already have about forty cats.” I paused. “But thanks, really. Someday that would be nice.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” I said. “Besides, isn’t this building a ‘no pets allowed’ place?”
“I’m sure there are a few cats in here, but you’re probably right. It would be better if we didn’t have a pet, at least for now.