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    Aditus
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Christmas Confidential - 3. Kater and Pearl

Kater and Pearl

“Together!” Liam winced when the squealing and laughing coming from the living room became even louder. The dated springs of his old couch groaned and creaked from the four-footed onslaught of his sister’s brats.

His sister grinned. “They’re only saying good-bye adequately.”

He slumped his shoulders. “I know, but old habits die hard. I don’t know how many times I told them not to jump around on the couch,” he said wistfully.

Kristy patted his arm. “It’s time to throw the old thing out. Kater ruined it years ago. That cat was a menace. There is no point in hanging onto the past.”

An hour later, they stood in the open door, the kids already impatiently waiting in the car. “Don’t forget. Mark’ll pick you up at 10 pm. He promised to help with schlepping that ‘thing’ to the curb. If you feed him breakfast, he’ll even drive you to Ikea to get a new one.”

“I don’t know if I can afford to feed your husband’s bottomless pit of a stomach and buy a new couch.”

Liam sat on the floor, gingerly pulling at some of the loose, ripped threads hanging from deep tears in the faded blue fabric of his couch. Kater had been a large cat with shiny black fur, huge paws, and strong claws. It had been Ray’s, but from the moment the man had moved in with Liam, the animal had changed loyalties and chosen him as its new favorite human and can opener. Ray had called him Monster; For Liam he had simply been Kater. As if he’d needed additional confirmation that he was an utter asshole, his ex had taken the cat solely out of spite after Liam had thrown him out. Every time Liam found one of the rumpled toy mice Kater had been so fond of in some nook and cranny of the overstuffed armchair by the window or in his sock drawer, a pang went through his body. The crazy cat had always thrown the furry things high in the air. One time a slobbered-on mouse had even landed in his coffee mug. He could still remember the cat’s smug expression after landing that coup.

The couch was a daily reminder of what he had lost. It had been a good decision to get rid of it.

Staring out of the window, Liam stirred his chamomile tea with the bag. It had started to snow. He startled when someone rang the bell.

Curious, he peered out the open door and could barely suppress a gasp. There stood a tall, bald black man in a peacoat , who looked exactly like Amenadiel.

“Damn. Amenadiel on my doorstep.”

The man grinned. “I get that a lot.” His deep, growly voice sent shivers through Liam.

“Can I help you?”

“Are you Liam Beckett?”

“Yes. Who wants to know?”

The man stretched his hand out, juggling a thickly-wrapped object with his other arm. “Gabe Murray with the local news. I’m here on behalf of an anonymous benefactor, who heard about you and wanted to give you a gift for Christmas.”

Liam immediately took a step back. He was so not in the mood for pranks. He began to close the door.

Gabe laughed. “It’s no joke, I promise. He contacted the station and asked us to distribute gifts on his behalf. You’re one of the people he asked us to visit.” He held out the box. “This is for you. “Please, open it now.”

“Wow… I don’t know!”

For a short moment it looked as if the box moved. The man winked. “Someone is getting impatient. Hurry, open the box, Liam.”

Still hesitating, he took the surprisingly heavy gift and set it down on the floor while Gabe closed the door.

Carefully, Liam pulled at a corner of the paper.

“Go on,” Gabe urged him.

When he ripped it away a loud, familiar meow came out of the box. “Kater?” Suddenly the paper couldn’t go away fast enough.

Liam quickly slid the lid off the box, and big green eyes glowered at him from the dark. Seconds later he had his arms full of quivering cat. Pressing his face into its fur, he murmured again and again, “Kater....” soaking the animal’s fur with his tears. When he ran his hands over the cat’s rail-thin body, he could feel almost every bone. Looking closer, he noticed the former shiny and sleek black coat was dull and mottled with tiny scabs. “What happened to you?”

“Someone found him raiding the garbage cans behind their house, making one hell of a ruckus every night. Eventually they dropped him off at the shelter.”

“I can’t believe the bastard abandoned you.” Liam cuddled the loudly purring beast against his chest. “But now you’re home for Christmas.”

Gabe looked over his shoulder at the door. “I-I have to get something else from the car.”

“Sure, just leave the door open.” Liam didn’t care, as long he was holding Kater in his arms again.

A few minutes later, Gabe pushed the door open with his shoulder, carrying another box. “There is a tiny problem. While Kater was slumming it between the dumpsters...he made a friend.”

“A friend?” Liam lifted Kater up and looked him in the eye. “You made a friend?” Then he really saw the second box and got it. “You brought the friend too.”

Together they opened it while the big cat head-butted Liam constantly, as if he wanted to say, ‘hurry up, will you?’ When it was finally open, the box instantly tipped over and out tumbled a tiny white puppy with huge paws that said I will be very big when I’m done growing.

“Meet Pearl.”

Kater instantly began grooming the little dog.

When Liam looked up, Gabe was gone; all he saw was swirling snow through the open door. The bright red car was gone, and there were no tracks in the driveway.

“Kristy? I’m calling to tell you Mark doesn’t need to come and help with the couch. I mean, he can come for breakfast, but the couch stays.” Liam watched Kater teaching Pearl scratching the couch 1.0.

I hope you liked my little piece. Tomorrow it's @Valkyrie's turn again. Thank you for reading.
Copyright © 2020 Valkyrie, aditus; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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