Life Lesson #17: halloween isn’t completely stupid

➸ Yarrow ☆

The day before Halloween, Blackjack arrives at the house with a box full of meows. I nearly tackle him wanting to see the cats. He lowers the box, and four kittens instantly topple out and begin exploring.

“Are they mine?” I ask, crawling after them.

“I love you, Yarrow, and there's no fighting the fact that I’ll give you just about anything, but no way are we taking in four fucking cats.”

“Then why bring them here?” I pout.

“So you could choose which one you wanted. Tana found the litter when she went to the old rental. Seems a few of those feral cats weren’t fixed back when Oz rounded most of them up for the vet. Anyway, the mama cat won’t have anything to do with going inside, but the kittens are young enough to be domesticated. She thought you and the crew might take a few. She’ll probably snag any leftovers for herself.”

“Why can’t I have them all?” I ask from under our new kitchen table where one of them explores my lap.

“I’m not a cat person, and taking in an animal is a lot of responsibility. We can’t handle four cats.”

I know Blackjack’s right that cats involve work—poop boxes, vaccinations, furballs. Crawling on the hardwood floor with two of the kittens, I see one heading upstairs and another messing around with the back door.

The two in front of me crisscross in different directions. I can’t follow them both, so I sit down and watch them.

“How can I choose?” I ask Blackjack who rests on the couch watching me watch the cats.

“Well, seems to me the cats are choosing for you. Those other three keep wandering away while the goofy-looking one comes back to you.”

The black cat has a white patch on his chest while the right half of his face is orange.

“He’s not all that goofy,” I say and lower my face to meet his.

The cat sniffs my nose before rubbing his body against my head. It’s official—I love him!

“How do you know it’s a boy?” Blackjack asks, now rounding up the other kittens.

“I don’t. Does it matter?”

“It’ll matter when the time comes to get the cat fixed so it can’t make babies.”

“Whatever,” I say, crawling after my kitten. “I’m naming him Oyster.”

Blackjack sighs from nearby. “Why?”

“I don’t know. It just popped in my head.”

“That’s worse than Oz’s cats’ names.”

“Like I said,” I mutter and flash him a frown, “whatever.”

Blackjack laughs at my expression and finally wrangles the third kitten into the box. “I’m ditching them at Clove’s. Let’s see if she can tell them no.”

“I doubt it. She couldn’t even tell Glitch no, and he’s not all that cute.”

While Blackjack leaves the kittens with Clove—who apparently takes one before ditching them with Cayenne—and picks up cat supplies, I show Oyster my townhome. He isn’t afraid of the mechanical room at all, which makes me smile. Blackjack doesn’t fear the room either. My two boys are so much the same!

Hours later, Blackjack and Oyster—who Ginger says is a girl—sit on the couch with me. The kitten sleeps, Blackjack plays with something in his pocket, and I watch a zombie movie.

“These people are really stupid,” I whisper.

“I don’t think cats need you to whisper when they sleep.”

“Oh, well, whatever.”

“Stop saying ‘whatever,’” he grumbles at me, seeming nervous.

“How come?”

“Because I’m about to ask you something and I need a yes or no answer.”

“No,” I say instantly.

Grinning, Blackjack slides onto the floor and faces me. I think maybe he wants to lick my pussy, and I’m not sure the kitten should watch. Oz always kicks his cats out of the bedroom when he and Ginger hump.

“I love you,” Blackjack says in a soft voice that makes my brain stop thinking of fucking.

“I love you too.”

“You’re like no one else in the world, and I feel real lucky to have gotten to know you and love you. I’d never really been lucky before, but I am with you, and I want to keep you with me forever.”

Smiling, I cup his face and stroke his beard with my thumbs. “I never want to leave you either.”

“Will you marry me, monkey?”

“Yes,” I say instantly. “I’m not afraid of being married to you. I know I belong with you.”

Blackjack kisses me deeply, yet he doesn’t want fucking. He wants me to see him as more than a sexy man. He wants me to see him as Billy and Blackjack mixed into one, flaws and all. I do see him, and he’s perfect to me in every way.

“I remember how you said you don’t like jewelry,” he says, and I tense a little since I actually hate jewelry. Naked feels better in every way. “But I wanted to get you a ring to make it official.”

Instead of jewelry in his pocket, Blackjack shows me a ring pop. I giggle and reach for it.

“Can I eat the ring or do I have to save it?”

Blackjack pulls a bag of ring pops from the couch’s storage spot. “No way would I make you save it.”

Laughing, I hug him against me and plan to never let him go. He’s mine, and we’re getting married, and we have a new kitten to love. One day, we’ll have kids too. I used to doubt I’d get to enjoy such normal blessings like other people. Then Blackjack spoke too close to my ear and awoke a desire in me for more. Every day, it burns hotter and makes me stronger.

I hope I make Blackjack stronger too. My man deserves the best of luck in life after making mine so amazing.