The Gift Ch. 06-10

He leaned against a tree, looking down at her face. "When I was in vet school, I learned that pet loss is considered disenfranchised grief, much like perinatal death or induced abortion. It means that the bereaved person's relationship with the deceased and the grief is not sufficiently recognized by society. But that doesn't mean your pet's death shouldn't matter to you. No one can know your grief better than you."

He laughed a little. "Does it make sense?" he asked.

"I wonder if everyone would push me to move on if I had lost someone else...you know, like a human being," she sighed. "I know of people who never recovered from the loss of their pet."

"I do too. But you're getting better."

"Do you come here often?" she suddenly asked, looking up at the tree Chris was leaning against. The leaves were yet to change color.

"Yes," he said, moving away from the tree as he shoved his hands inside his shirt pockets. "I used to come here more often as a child. Do you see that lake in the distance? We used to fish there. We'd ride our bikes, catch frogs, and pick up wildflowers." He smiled fondly at her. "My parents' house is about twenty miles from here."

She said nothing in response to that. They resumed walking, crunching dry leaves under their shoes. The sun peeked from behind the tall trees, making what would otherwise be a cold day warm and balmy. Luciana pulled her cardigan closer around herself, her eyes traveling from one tree to another, trying to spot birds or squirrel nests. It had been a while since she last took a walk in the woods. She had a garden at home, which eliminated the need to go somewhere else for a walk. Cleo used to spend most of her day out in the garden when the sun was shining, sniffing around the flower bushes, climbing up the trees and chattering at birds. Luciana even went on to think she liked the male cat that often visited her. It hadn't been unusual for her to share jokes about Cleo and her 'boyfriend' with Matt and Kyle.

Luciana bit her lip when the thought that she would no longer be interrupted at work crossed her mind. Cleo would hog her keyboard, throw her stationery supplies out the window, and leave fur all over the computer screen, but she never complained. She was ready to give up everything to have her back.

"A penny for your thoughts," Chris said gently, as they reached the top of the bridge across the stream. In the distance was the lake, crystal clear water sparkling under the sun. Luciana noticed small cottages around the lake, which she realized were private property. Chris stared at her face, and his throat seemed to catch as he wondered what she was thinking.

"When I was a child," she said, "My ideal life was to live on a deserted island with all animals, birds, and trees as my friends. I wanted to swim with the seals and the whales, climb trees with the orangutans, run with the ostriches and live in my little hut with dogs and foxes. It was my dream for a long time."

"What's your dream now?" he asked.

"I don't know. I thought I had the perfect life. I love my career, I live in a picturesque duplex that I share with my best friend...I had Cleo." She looked down at the water, blinking to make the tears go away. "But life isn't perfect, is it?"

"Life is what we make of it," he said. "When my wife gave up on me because she thought I had no time for her, it led me to believe I was a bad person. But my animals make me happy, my job makes me happy. That's what I live for and I'm not ashamed."

"Your wife thought you were neglecting her?" she asked.

"Yeah. I wouldn't blame her. I did spend long hours away from home." He sighed, hesitating before saying the next words. "One night I came home unexpectedly, when I had told her I was going for the weekend. I found her in the arms of another man...her masseur. I filed for divorce a month after that."

She finally looked at him, eyes gleaming with surprise. When she spoke, her voice seemed deeper.

"When did you get divorced?" she asked.

"Three years ago." He looked at her. "I'm sorry I told you that. You didn't need to know."

She shrugged. "I'm sorry you were cheated on. You're a good man. You didn't deserve that."

"You think so?" he snorted.

"In my book, anyone who treats animals well is a good person."

"Thank you." A lopsided grin appeared on lips as he gazed down at the water. "What about you? Have you ever been married?"

"No."

"Would you ever want to?"

"I haven't yet found the right person," she answered. "I'm not sure I'm even looking."

"You don't have to look for the right person," he said. "They just...appear."

"Perhaps." She turned on her heels and started to walk again, so Chris followed her. "And then we let them go when we find them."

"What do you mean?" he asked, trailing right behind her. For the next few seconds, she remained silent. It was quiet all around except for the breeze and the gentle rustle of leaves, serene and relaxing to the senses. A few bikers rode past, thanking them when they stepped aside to make way for them. When Chris was next to Luciana again, she quietly looked up at his face.

"Elijah..." she began, brushing a lock of hair from her forehead. "He hasn't been with anyone in ages. It breaks my heart."

"Why hasn't he been with anyone?" he asked, curious.

"Because he hasn't been able to find someone like Michelle," she said. "They were in love, even though he denies it now."

"What happened?"

"He left her." She made a vague gesture with her hands. "Her rich parents didn't want her to be with a poor guy and Elijah didn't want to make things hard for her."

She stepped aside when two more bikers rode past them. Luciana shifted slightly, her face sad when she spoke again.

"She made him happy," she murmured. "I've never seen him happy since he left her."

"It's never too late, you know," Chris gave her a small smile. "He might just find someone again."

"Fat chance," she snorted. "He's stubborn, pushy, workaholic, and arrogant. He's locked away the part of him that Michelle fell in love with."

"Well, you get too comfortable being on your own and lose the desire to be coupled up anymore," Chris mentioned. Luciana stopped walking and looked up at his face.

"Have you got too comfortable being on your own?" she asked cautiously. Chris hesitated, debating in his mind how to answer that. He'd be lying if he said he had; he didn't miss being married but he did miss having someone to share his life, his passions, his hopes and dreams with. But then, he didn't do too bad on his own either; being surrounded by animals all day made him happy.

"Yes and no," he finally answered. "I have my flaws. I couldn't be a good husband because I didn't devote enough time to the marriage. I don't want to make another woman go through the same thing with me."

"I think you're being too hard on yourself," she said. "You've been very kind to me from the first day. I have been far less grateful than you deserve."

"I couldn't save your cat," he sighed. "That kind of evens things out."

"You gave her a peaceful end." When she looked at him, her eyes were more peaceful than he had ever seen. "I'm glad I brought her to you."

Chris stared into her eyes, not the glimmering green of emerald anymore. They seemed lighter now, almost hazel with specks of gold. Luciana held his gaze, expecting him to say something. He knew he should, but instead he realized he was in trouble. Serious trouble. He didn't know when or how it happened— it had happened too fast. But all he knew was that he was falling hard for the woman in front of him, and wasn't sure what to do about it.

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Chapter 10

The moment they stepped into the no-kill, cage-free cat shelter, Luciana's face lit up. She looked wide-eyed at Chris's face and then back at the big lounge room, where close to thirty cats were lazing around. Some of the cats that were moved there from the hospital were also in that room, but it was hard to tell them apart. After getting medical treatment, good food, love and attention at the hospital, the rescued cats were now healthy and happy. It seemed to have made up for the guilt Chris had felt after Cleo passed away.

"This is remarkable," said Luciana, as they were greeted by some of the shelter staff. Chris introduced her to them, adding that she had been impatient to meet the new cats that had just moved in. But she seemed interested in all the felines on the property. Even as Chris tried to familiarize her with the place, pointing out the nursery, the hospital, and the FIV section of the shelter, her gaze would not stop traveling from one cat to another, as if two eyes were not enough to get her fill.

Chris smiled to himself, allowing her to forget all about him while she sat on the floor and let the cats flock to her. She didn't call out or try to pet them without their consent. All she did was sit in the middle of the room while quietly cooing to the cats nearest to her. Some of them climbed down from their cat trees, while others stuck their heads out of their baskets and beds. She sat still and let them sniff her hand, and when one of the older kittens climbed into her lap and stood on tiptoe to lick her neck, Luciana giggled aloud.

He swallowed hard, the sound of her laugh making his body tingle. It seemed like he had waited forever to see her like that - open, unguarded... happy. One cat followed the other, and soon she was swarmed with a herd of young and old felines, surprisingly interested even though she didn't have any food. He hadn't seen Luciana laugh until that moment, and he found it impossible to take his eyes off her. With her unbridled smile, sparkling eyes, and motherly gentleness towards the cats, she stole every heart in that room.

"They are adorable," she said when he crouched on the floor next to her. "Remind me to bring lots of treats and toys next time."

"Are you planning to be a regular?" he teased. Luciana picked up one of the cats, a brown and white domestic short hair, and let it kiss her face. She then held the cat in front of his face and raised her eyebrows.

"Who can resist that face?" she asked. He lifted a hand to scratch the cat under its chin, earning a purr in response. Luciana put it down, giving it a long stroke from the head to the tip of the tail as it walked away. "Did you start this place?"

"No," he said. "This place was opened in 1977 by two close friends of my parents. After they passed away in the mid-90s, my mother joined the board of directors." He picked up a kitten when it approached him, setting it on his shoulder. "I've been helping out for over 20 years. Say hi to Danny."

"Hi," Luciana shook his tiny paw, her delighted face almost red from excitement. "Does everyone have names?"

"Not the thirty cats that moved last week. I think they have an online event coming up where people can make a donation of $15 and one name." When he put the kitten down, he crawled into his lap and mewled. Chris bent down to kiss the top of his head. "Do you have anything in mind?"

"Names? Yes, plenty." She leaned on one elbow to be able to stroke all the cats in the vicinity. "If you wanted, I could write them all down."

"Are you sure you're the same person who was starving herself till a few days ago?" he joked. Luciana lowered her gaze, a small smile spilling from her sealed lips.

"We did have a deal, didn't we?" she said. For an instant, she felt a lump in her throat when she thought about the felines in the hoarding house. "I've been depressed about the peaceful death of my cat, who was loved and pampered, while there were hundreds of other cats dying in that house. It—"

"No, Luciana," he interrupted her. "Do not think your grief is small compared to this tragedy. You have every right to mourn the death of your pet. You didn't know what was happening at the hoarding house and it wasn't your doing."

"It still gives my grief some perspective," she murmured. "I don't have words to thank you for what you did. People like you have a special place in heaven."

Chris laughed, shaking his head. The room was spacious despite teeming with cats, and he knew Luciana could spend all day there, simply mothering the cats. He rose from the floor, giving her a hand.

"While you are here, I might as well give you a tour of the property," he said. Luciana got up to her feet, fixing her clothes and hair as she followed him outside the building. Chris was proud of this facility. Sprawling across 12 acres, the place was home to over 300 cats of various breeds, colors, and needs. The shelter consisted of two buildings— the main building not only housed the largest number of cats but also the offices and the gift shop, while the second smaller building was home to the cats with special medical needs, like FIV, feline Leukemia and FIP.

Luciana took great interest in the place as he took her around, stopping at the lake, waving to the cats on the trees, and taking the time to read the plaques.

"Who's Peggy Roberts?" she asked, when she saw one of the tribute benches.

"She was one of the sponsors who passed away a few years ago and bequeathed her estate to the shelter," said Chris. "We also took care of her cat afterwards, until he passed away at age 15." He pointed to a spot near the benches. "He's buried at the foot of the Peggy Roberts Memorial Bench."

"Oh." Luciana looked meditative as she went up to the benches and read the inscriptions on them. She looked up at the trees and ran her hands along the trunks, smiling to herself. Chris stood at a distance and watched how peaceful and contented she looked, beautiful without a trace of makeup or fancy clothes. Her perfect, creamy skin was flushed from the cold breeze, and the mental image of doing things to that smooth skin left him flustered.

When they returned to the building, Luciana fetched a few toys and began to play with the cats. Chris - and the other shelter staff - didn't know if it was a good idea to join in or stand at a distance and watch a multitude of cats flocking after her as she waved the toy. To everyone's surprise, even the fattest and laziest ones came running around to play.

Luciana's energy was remarkable, considering she hadn't had a full meal in weeks. When she finally tired out and sat on one of the windows, Chris took the toy to continue playing with the herd. The place was so clean and cozy that it made her want to stay there. Every other animal shelter she had visited in the past had been lined with cages. She remembered complaining to ASPCA after spotting one of the dogs in a crate with a bruised nose, which he had sustained from his attempts to break out of the cage.

She hadn't thought Chris would be a cat person-- he was big and muscular, the kind she always imagined with big dog breeds. But it melted her heart to see him treat the cats so gently. The kittens were tiny in his hands, and he managed to hold them without squishing them. A fit, handsome man with a love for animals and who also happened to be a veterinarian— if she was ever in the mood for marriage, she would take her even perfectly healthy pet to him for a checkup.

Catching herself thinking of marriage while staring at Chris engaged in a game of feather and string left her slightly disconcerted. To distract her mind, she looked to the far end of the room and noticed a black and white cat sitting curled in its basket with a sad face. She cautiously walked up to it but the cat didn't seem to feel threatened by her. When she kneeled in front of the basket and held out the back of her hand, the cat gently put its face forward to sniff.

She didn't know if it was a Turkish Angora but it certainly was fluffy. Luciana carefully stroked its head with two fingers, trying to not think how closely it resembled Cleo. When she stroked its neck with both hands, the cat stretched and let out the quietest purr.

"That's Poppy," said Chris, turning up at her side. "She has a bad leg."

"What is it?" she asked. Chris kneeled next to her.

"She was found last year roaming the streets with her leg stuck in an embedded collar," he explained. "She had a deep gash in her armpit, but thankfully, the wound wasn't infected with maggots, so her leg could be saved. She now has a limp, though."

When he reached out to gently pick her up from the basket, the cat went boneless in his hands. Luciana saw the scars of the injury on her left hind leg. She took Poppy from Chris's hands and softly kissed her face, her sad brown eyes crying out to her.

"Why hasn't she been adopted yet?"

"Because people want perfect pets, not ones with a limp. They usually go for the more active ones first."

Chris got up to his feet, slightly stretching his arms. "Would you like lunch?" he asked. "I don't know about you but I'm famished."

Luciana kept staring at the cat without offering a reply. Chris touched her shoulder.

"Are you alright?" he asked. "Would you like to eat anything?"

She finally rose from the floor, her face somber and pensive. "I usually eat a salad for lunch," she said.

"Salads aren't great for inducing an appetite," he shook his head. "You need something more palatable."

"Like what?"

Chris remained quiet for a minute, tapping his foot as he thought. "Do you like chili?" he asked. "Turkey chili?"

"I do like it during the cold weather," she said with a nod. Chris looked relieved.

"Perfect. There's a restaurant not far from here that makes amazing turkey chili. I often eat it for lunch."

Luciana looked pointedly at his washboard midsection. "That's the result of turkey chili?" she asked.

"And 300 pushups a day." He gave her a wave of his hand. "Come on. Follow me."

The restaurant smelled heavenly. Although the place had everything from pizzas to burgers to sandwiches and salads, the turkey chili seemed to be the best-selling item. Chris found them a cozy booth, complete with leather seats and dimmed lights.

Luciana remained silent and engrossed as he placed the order for both of them, also asking for water at room temperature with straws. When he turned his attention back at her, he seemed to notice the earlier sadness in her eyes again.

"Luciana?" he asked gently, not wanting to probe. "What's on your mind? You seem pensive."

"I'm alright," she replied, trying to look interested in her surroundings. "Thank you for choosing a quiet corner. It seems like a busy place. I'm surprised I've never been here."

Chris realized she was trying to draw away attention from her actual thoughts, and he relented, deciding to go with the flow of the conversation.

"Did you grow up in Chicago?" he asked.

"Yes. I moved away for college." She took a sip of the water with the straw. "What about you?"

"I was born in England," he said. "My father was there for an authors' convention while my mother was staying with her parents. I decided to come sooner than expected."

"You were a preterm baby?" she gasped. "No way! What are you? 6'3"?"

"A little over 6'4", thank you very much," he chuckled. "My whole family's tall, by the way."

"I can imagine," she nodded, shifting her attention to the water again. For the next two minutes, she fell into another awkward silence while absently stirring the water in the glass with the straw. By the look on her face, Chris thought she was about to cry, but she only took another sip of water instead, swirling the liquid around in her mouth before swallowing slowly.

Had the cats reminded her of Cleo? Was she thinking of her absence? Was he ever going to see her smile or laugh again?

His inner monologue was interrupted by the arrival of their food. Luciana looked up from the glass of water, thanking the waiter with a nod. The chili looked delicious, garnished with cheddar and chopped jalapenos and served with a side of sliced avocados and crackers. Chris watched her fiddle with the spoon and wondered if she had lost her appetite again.