Chapter Eleven: "Heavenlee"

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     A few months later...

     As soon as his key was out of the lock and the front door of Heavenlee cracked open the smell of fresh bread and hot sugar drew him in. In her rocking chair by the window sat the baker with her favorite hand-painted fan in her lap, her chin buried in her collarbone as she snored gently. Kicking his shoes off and gingerly locking the door, something pounced at his ankles and he cried in shock. The old lady startled awake.

     It was a cat. Not just any cat, but the neighborhood stray that always avoided him. He froze with heart throbbing from the jump as the feline swiped a paw at the fraying hem of his jean shorts.

     "What are you doing here?" The woman asked groggily, "It's Sunday, I told you I didn't have any work for you."

     The Boy winced regrettably. "S-sorry." He said tightly, "I was trying not to wake you, but the cat scared me."

      The old woman relaxed again comfortably watching the cat purr against his ankle. "Looks like she's found a friend."

     "No way." he slowly crouched and laid a hand tenderly on the thin back of the cat. It didn't flinch. A pure grin filled The Boy's pale cheeks. "...She's never even let me touch her before! Normally she'd be thrashing me right now."

     "Ah, I've discovered that spending a little while in this shop tends to soften even the most harshly resistant strays around here." And she shot her apprentice a pointed wink.

The Boy rolled his eyes but his beam remained intact. "How long have you been taking care of her?"

     The old lady explained she had been feeding the cat for a few nights when it came by but today was the first day it decided to hang around in the daylight. As she spoke the feline crawled into his lap and rolled over, still vibrating happily. Her fur was softer than he imagined it would be. The Boy allowed a little chuckle to slip his lips and hugged the cat.

     "Do you think we can keep her??" he pleaded gravely. "You can take it from my paycheck to buy her food, I won't mind! I'll house train her!"

     The baker shook her head in amusement. "Darling, she's a stray. She probably has plenty of people feeding her. But who knows, with you here she might just decide to move in."

     Yawning she fanned herself again. It was then the air started to feel thick and hot. Glancing to the small rotating fan in the opposite corner of the storefront The Boy found it unplugged. Again.

     "Ma'am!" he grumbled, rising and quickly moving to turn it on, facing it towards her. "How many times do I have to tell you keep this thing on? Come on, we're in the middle of July. If you refuse to turn on the air conditioner when customers aren't around then at least use the fan. I didn't get it for you so it could sit here and collect dust."

     "Sorry, darling. I usually just do with my paper fans." She giggled and he could tell she felt bad. "I sort of forgot it was there..."

     He glowered at her with a sigh. "If you get a heat stroke and die for something as stupid as this, I'm not going to your funeral."

     "I told you on Friday we didn't have any work to do today," she ignored his snide comment and changed the subject.  "Did you just miss me that much??"

     "Don't flatter yourself, prune-face." And he held up his new green drawstring bag Dad had given him to replace the old one he lost. "I brought work."

     The pack bulged with small lumps. He opened it and stooped to let her seek the thing full to the brim with whole pecans. She clapped her hands in front of her mouth and her eyes twinkled as she pinched his cheeks. He grimaced and rolled his eyes, but didn't pull away this time.

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