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Love to the Rescue (Mini Romance), Part 2

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Lorinda sneaked a peek at Tom every few moments. She felt comfortable sitting in the passenger seat of his car. As if she had been there, in this very place, many times before. For years. It was so odd to feel that way. She hardly knew him.

“Do you have cats?” she spoke into the silence. The box of kittens was nestled on her lap, her sweater covering the top.

He smiled broadly. “Yes, I guess you could say that. And other animals too. I head up an organization that rescues abandoned and abused animals. We’re really small right now but we have a mission. These animals are our companions. We must keep them safe.”

“Ahh, so that’s how you know this vet we are taking these little guys and gals to?”

“Yes, he and I are old friends.” He paused and a seriousness took over his eyes. “He has donated his services to my organization. We couldn’t do what we do without him.”

“I’m looking forward to meeting him,” she said, pulling her sweater toward her so she could check in on their tiny charges.

Lorinda cautiously followed Tom into the small veterinarian facility. The outside of the building was old and worn. The building needed a paint job and a new door. But as she entered the office, she found nice furnishings, brightly decorated displays of animal food and supplies, and a cheery feel. It was in strict contrast to its austere outer shell. The waiting room was full.

“Hello, Becky,” Tom said to the woman at the front desk, “Is Ross around?”

Becky chuckled. “Wow, I don’t think we’ve seen you since yesterday.” She gave him a playful grin, “Of course, go on back.”

Lorinda smiled shyly at Becky as she followed Tom, gripping the box of now noisy kittens. They had been quiet in the car, but had awakened and apparently noticed that they were still hungry.

Ross was just handing a small chihuahua back to a woman with a worried look on her face, “Fifi will be okay,” he said assuredly, “Make sure you give her all the medicine, and call me if you have any concerns.”

The woman hugged her dog close to her, tears of relief welling in her eyes as she walked down the hall back to the waiting room.

“Tom, you old freeloader,” Ross said as he gave Tom’s shoulder a push, “What have you got for me?”

“Abandoned kittens,” Tom said, “Mom ventured out into a busy street, and now we have little waifs in need of care.”

Ross smiled at Lorinda. “Hi,” he said, “People call me Dr. Ross. Excuse my friend’s rudeness.”

Tom wrinkled his brow, “I’m sorry. Lorinda, this is Ross, one of my oldest and dearest friends. Ross, this is Lorinda, the angel who saved these babies’ lives.”

Image courtesy of 99mimimi on Pixabay.

Lorinda blushed, then caught herself. She reached out to shake Dr. Ross’ outstretched hand while juggling the box of kittens with the other hand.

“Whoa,” Dr. Ross said, “Let me have that, Lorinda. It’s nice to meet you.”

Dr. Ross took the box from Lorinda’s arms and placed it on the table. He removed her sweater and handed it back to her. “What have we got here?” He picked up two of the smallest kittens and peered into their little faces. They both stopped mewing and attempted to crawl onto his shoulder. “Whoa, little ones. Let’s check you out first.”

After he had examined all five of the kittens, he said to both Tom and Lorinda, “They’re a bit dehydrated and undernourished, but otherwise in surprisingly good health. It’s good you found them when you did.”

Tom let out a deep sigh, “That’s wonderful.”

“You’ll need to clean them up and give them round-the-clock feedings. Becky will give you what you need.”

After they returned to Tom’s car and settled the now sleeping kittens into the back seat, Tom said, “I guess I better get you home.”

“You’re not getting rid of me that fast,” Lorinda said, “You heard Dr. Ross. Those kittens need round-the-clock care.”

“It’s not my first all-nighter,” he said smiling at her, “but I’d love some company if you insist on being part of their recovery.”

“I do insist,” she said, “They are part of me now.”

Shortly before six o’clock the next morning, she woke from a fitful sleep. She had been laying on Tom’s shoulder against the wall, with the outline of his shoulder seam on her cheek and the sheltered animals of his organization stirring in their enclosures. She jerked herself awake. “You let me sleep past my last turn at feeding them.”

He was leaning back against the wall, arms in front of him, all five kittens embraced within his loving grasp. Two of the kittens were kneading his chest while the other three slept peacefully. “You’ve gone above and beyond the call of duty. I thought I’d give you a chance to rest.”

“What about you? You must be exhausted,” she said.

“How can I be tired,” he said, “The world is a cruel place. But when you hold a tiny creature in your arms, magic happens. They only exhilarate me. And bring a calm that is rare to find anywhere in life.”

Lorinda beamed. “I didn’t know people like you existed. You’re right. It is a cruel world. But I see the joy and the good you bring to it with your organization here. Your animals. Taking care of them. Connecting them with people who need the special kind of love they give.”

She stopped momentarily, wondering if she had said far too much. During their evening of tireless nursing, she had become closer to him. During the night, they worked steadily and without distraction on fostering the little ones back to health. She felt closer to him than to anyone else, and they hadn’t known each other but less than 24 hours.

“Lorinda,” he said, “Come work for me.”

“What?” she said surprised.

“I can’t pay very much salary now. But we’re growing, and we need caring people like you. People who have a kind and nurturing nature. What do you say?”

The phone rang. She looked at his full arms, “I’ll get it,” she said jumping up. “I have an excellent phone manner.”

“Dr. Ross here. Lorinda, is that you?”

Image courtesy of Kadres on Pixabay.

“Yes,” she said, “We’ve taken good care of the kittens and they are thriving.”

“Good,” he said, “I’d still like to see them again sometime today. See if we need to change anything that we are doing.”

She looked over at Tom so she could relay to him what Dr. Ross was saying. He had fallen asleep against the wall, kittens still in place.

“I’m afraid Tom is asleep, but I will let him know later when he wakes up. In the meantime, I will take good care of the babies.”

“I know you will. You have a way with animals. I can tell. You’d be a great asset in the veterinarian field.”

“Tom just offered me a job,” she said, “I’m seriously considering it.”

“I’m not surprised. He’s a good judge of character,” he said, “And . . . I’ve never heard him call anyone ‘angel’ before. That’s saying something. I’ve known him a long time.”

“I think he can tell I love animals,” she said coyly.

“It’s not just that,” Dr. Ross said, “He never allows anyone to help him watch vulnerable animals. And never allows himself rest unless he is sure he can trust the person he’s leaving the watch with. I think you’ve just had your first date.”

“Dr. Ross . . .”

“Don’t tell him I said that.”

“Okay,” she said quietly. “We’ll see you later.”

She hung up the phone. Maybe her life was taking a positive turn in two ways. A new dream job and a possible love interest. How quickly things can change in just a short period of time.

She walked over to Tom and laid a hand on his shoulder. He was definitely out. She gently removed the kittens from his chest, “Come on little ones. It’s time for your next feeding.”

# # #

Copyright 2023, Monica Nelson

Love to the Rescue (Mini Romance), Part 1

Lorinda sunk down in the bus stop bench. It had been a long day at work and all she wanted to do was go home. She was looking forward to a hot soup dinner and a good book, followed by a bath and bed. The late October day was cool and breezy.

The incident at the end of her call center shift made her cringe, even now. The caller was angry, swearing at and verbally abusing her. She had very much wanted to help the gentleman. She thought he had a valid point, but no matter how hard she tried, she could not get him to settle down long enough to have an intelligent conversation. She had had to call in a supervisor, who in turn called in another supervisor. She was expected to “listen in” to “learn how to handle” these types of customers.

The situation only got worse ending in threats of retaliation from the customer and litigation from her company. She learned little, and was so rattled from the hours-long fiasco that she seriously considered quitting on the spot.

The answer was so simple. Stop and listen. If people had, it could’ve easily been avoided. Was there no patience and kindness left in the world?

Now, she sat absorbing the din of white noise around her, comprised of rushing traffic, street sounds, and muffled crowd noise of a distant football game. Out of the barely perceptible conglomerate she sensed a tiny sound. An innocent sound. She couldn’t hear it well, but she could distinguish it from the noisy hum. It happened again. She leaned back, straining her ears with all the effort she could muster. There it was again. Small mew sounds.

She turned around and stepped up on the bench placing her hands on the top of the tall fence lining the sidewalk. Between that fence and the stone structure on either side of the park’s entrance was a thick growth of bushes. That shrubbery, with the beginning of fall, now lay nearly bare. Through the tangled brush she glimpsed a tiny ball of gold and white fur knotted together. The ball moved like a kaleidoscope presenting different image patterns. Every so often a tiny head would pop out displaying a kitten mouth wide open in begging despair. This is where the sound came from.

Image courtesy of INKIE on Pixabay.

She quickly ran around the entrance gate and peered over the bricks at the end of the structure. The kittens were dirty, huddled together against the chill. She reached down into the tangled branches in an attempt to reach the kittens. Her arms were not long enough. She ran around the end and lay on the ground reaching as far into the small space between the bush trunks and the brick wall. No use. They remained out of reach. She sat up in frustration.

They were cold and probably hungry. Where was their mama?

She looked about her. Tiny lives were at risk. To help them, she would have to find a way to reach them. Think, Lorinda, think. Nothing. She sighed heavily.

“Are you on a rescue mission?” she heard a male voice say.

She turned toward the voice, and he came into view around the corner of the structure. He had a sympathetic but authoritative demeanor. Authentic concern seemed to saturate every part of him.

“Yes,” she said, “how did you know?”

“I saw you reaching over the fence when I drove by. Then, I saw what appeared to be a deceased mother cat in the road. I put two and two together, and figured you were attempting to rescue the orphans.” He dropped the box he was carrying to the ground. “I’d like to help.”

“I know where they are but I can’t reach them,” she said, trying to keep the panic from her voice. Her heart broke anew when she heard him refer to them as orphans.

“Let’s have a look.” He knelt beside her and peered through the opening behind the bushes.

“They’re a little too far for me to reach,” she said.

He sat back on his heels. “I have an idea, but I need your help. Okay?”

“Yes,” she said quickly, “Whatever you need from me.”

“Good,” he said, pulling out a snipping tool from his belt, “I’m going to make my way through these bushes to the kittens. Then, I will pass them up to you one-by-one. The box should keep them safe. Got it?”

She picked up the box from the ground. “Yes,” she said. She made her way to the middle of the stone structure and hoisted herself up to where she was slightly leaning over the edge, her feet dangling a few inches from the ground.

She watched as he snipped away at the branches that hindered his movement, all the while inching his way further and further into the line of bushes toward the screaming kittens. When he got close enough to reach over his head, he picked up the first kitten and slowly moved it through the tangle of prickly bushes, into her outstretched arms.

Image courtesy of Kadres on Pixabay.

She grasped the kitten firmly but gently and pulled it up to her. After all the kittens had been rescued, she counted them in the box. Five. Still making hungry noises. She took the box around the corner of the stone structure just as the man was pulling himself out from behind the bushes. He stood up and tried to brush the twigs, dirt and debris from all over himself.

“Hello,” he pushed an arm in handshake mode out for her, “I’m Tom.”

She shook his hand, “Lorinda,” she said. “Look at these precious little babies.”

He looked down at them with the tender gaze of a new father, “That they are.” He looked back at her, “But we need to get them to a vet and have them checked out. I know a good one. Do you mind helping me with them to my car?”

“No problem,” she said, “I’ve already missed my bus.”

“In that case,” he beamed, “You can come with me to the vet’s office, and I will get you home.”

Normally, she would not accept a ride from someone she barely knew, but this man was different. In the short time she knew him, she determined that he was a good man. Kind, compassionate, caring. And handsome, now that she thought about it. Also, she couldn’t abandon the kittens now.

“Sounds like a plan,” she said, stroking the kittens with tender motherly comfort.

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Copyright 2023, Monica Nelson

Opening the Door to Love (Mini Romance)

“How’s your love life these days, dear?”

Katie stared over the top of her tea mug at her mother.  She was sipping her coffee, eyes cast down, her other hand playing with her spoon, spinning it gently on the table. Katie’s mother had asked her to meet her for coffee this morning which was the first indication to her that something was up. Her mother’s evasive behavior was not unexpected. Now, she’s asking about my love life?

“Okay,” Katie leaned back in her chair. Her mug hit the table with a little more force than she had intended. “What’s up?”

“Can’t a mother take an innocent interest in her daughter’s happiness? Her mother’s steely eyes appeared on the surface to be concerned.

Katie paused a moment. Her mother definitely had a scheme in mind. But what could it hurt? Whoever her mother had in mind had to be better than what she had gone through recently.

“Well,” Katie said, bracing against her better judgement, “The last guy I had a date with couldn’t stop talking about himself. I don’t think he even asked one thing about me. And, the one before that spent more time on his phone than he did anything else. How’s that for a happy love life?”

“Oh, Katie,” her mother purred, “I think it’s time for a change, don’t you? To some nice guy rather than those losers.”

“I thought those guys were nice guys, Mom,” Katie sighed. She couldn’t help notice her mother holding back a smile. “I suppose you have the perfect ‘nice’ guy in mind for me.”

“As it happens . . . “

Image courtesy of geralt (Gerald Altmann) on Pixabay.

“Noooo,” Katie tried to sound confident without pleading, “Please don’t set me up with some random guy you met at the doctor’s office, the market, or some other place like that.”

“Would I do that?” her mother shot back at her, “I talked to Margaret Clarkson last week. Do you remember her?

Katie froze in her chair. “Yeeeesss,” she said hesitantly.

“Then you remember her son, Zachary . . . “

“Her obnoxious son? Yes, of course, I do,” Katie said as she set her jaw to stubborn. “You can’t be serious.”

“Zach has moved back here, and he’s single. Margaret and I thought that maybe you . . . ”

“No, absolutely not,” Katie said. “He used to tease me mercilessly, pull my hair, and call me names. Is that really who you want me to go out with?”

Her mother gave her a pleading look, “You were kids. All kids do things like that.”

“Once a cad, always a cad,” Katie rebounded angrily, caught herself, and softened her voice, “I’m not interested.”

“Margaret says he could do with a friendly face to help him adjust to the new environment. He hasn’t lived here for twenty years. It’s like it’s all new to him,” Katie’s mother said, “You wouldn’t have to think of it as a date. And, you know, he could’ve changed a lot.”

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” Katie sighed. Her memories stirred childhood pain.  Probably because she liked him. She was a kid, but she was drawn to him, tried to be nice to him, and all he did was chide her to no end.er

Her mother smiled, “If you could open yourself to the possibility that he’s changed, you might open the door to opportunity.”

Katie opened the door to her apartment to find Amber, her roommate, still dressed in her running clothes, sitting at their kitchen counter. Gleaming from exertion, she picked up her water bottle and took a swig. Then, peering at Katie, she said “You look like you’ve had bad news. I take it the meeting with your mom didn’t go well.”

Amber always looked good, even now. She had nice guys falling at her feet. She never lacked for male companionship. Some women have all the luck.

“She and an old friend of hers are plotting to get me hooked up with the friend’s son,” Katie sighed.

“And this is bad news because . . . ?” Amber ran the bottle across her forehead, condensation from the bottle mixing with the sweat on her brow.

“Because,” Katie said as she shut the door, “Because he’s a jerk. I knew him when I was 8 or 9 years old. Our families spent a lot of time together, and he was always awful to me.”

“Like how?” Amber said.

“He used to like to scare me. Come up behind me when I wasn’t expecting it and grab my hair. I wore braids a lot. It would always scare me so bad that I would run away. Sometimes so bad, it would make me cry. Then, he would tease me for that.”

“Wow, really,” Amber said lifting an eyebrow, “You used to wear braids? Ms. Fashionista?”

Katie laughed. “Really? That’s what you got from that whole thing?”

“All I’m saying is that you’ve changed, right? At least your choice of hair style has. Maybe he has too. How old was he?”

“I think he was 11,” Katie’s tone turned solemn.

“Yes, a guy’s personality is pretty much set by that age,” Amber said with a hint of sarcasm. Pausing, she continued, “People change. Don’t throw away an opportunity to maybe meet the man of your dreams because he once was a jerky kid.”

“You’ve been talking to my mother, haven’t you?” Katie said.

“I’ve never met your mother,” Amber smiled, “but if she says ‘open the door to change, then you open the door to love’, I would have to side with her. I’m going to go take a shower now.”

Katie reached for a kitchen stool and sat down. Maybe Amber, who had her pick of any man she wanted, and her mom were right. Maybe she was being too hard on him. If she did change her attitude toward him, she might find he had changed his attitude toward her.

“Amber,” Katie caught her just before she entered the bathroom, “If it were you, would you do it?”

Amber grinned back at her, “In a heartbeat.”

Katie pulled out her phone and dialed her mother. “Okay,” she said when her mother answered, “I’m ready to open that door to opportunity.”

Time had come. She sat outside the restaurant feeling both anxiety and a sense of excitement. From the moment she spoke to him on the phone, she had sensed a feeling growing inside her. It was a flicker from the childhood attraction she’d felt long ago. It fluttered about her body, bubbling underneath the surface. And when it would flair beyond her inner nerves, it caused her mind to wander back to those days in her past. She would then have to quash it with all her mental power to keep it from expanding into real hope.

Better to get it over with. If she had this one evening with him, and he proved himself to be who she knew him to be, then it would be easier to push the attraction back where it belonged – into lost childhood memories. With new resolve, she opened the car door and headed for the restaurant entrance.

As she approached, a handsome, nicely dressed man opened the door from the inside allowing her entrance. “Katie,” he said, “I wasn’t sure you would show up. It’s me, Zach.”

Before her was an older version of her memory, exuding a quiet confidence and courteous demeanor. “Why wouldn’t I?” she said with a tentative smile.

He laughed nervously. “I was so awful to you when we were kids,” he said, “I used to make you cry.”

“That you did,” she said, “I remember.”

“Boys tend to be cruel to the girls they like,” he said shyly, “Thank God I’ve grown up. I hope you will give me an opportunity to show you just how nice I can be.”

Katie’s tentative smile grew more relaxed and genuine, releasing some of the repressed feeling she had banished not five minutes earlier. This just might be a good night after all. “I look forward to seeing you prove yourself a changed man.”

“I’m up for the challenge,” he said, closing the door behind them.

Copyright 2023, Monica Nelson