The web-version of Cotton Spice

Cotton Spice - Cover 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

Tara shook her head with a smile. How Isabelle loved George. He was the sole man in her life and all she required to be happy besides making a little mischief now and then.

Tara looked around the room at the other pets and their owners when a familiar pair of broad shoulders caught her attention. A man stood three tables away with his back to her. He was tall wearing jeans and a red button down shirt. A small gray cat sat in front of him on the table with number fifteen on it.

Tara was just about to tell herself she was imagining things when the man turned around and looked straight at her. “Oh!” Tara gasped staring in shock at her boyfriend Andrew who was staring back at her. He was obviously also in shock because his mouth dropped open in surprise.

“What is it?” Isabelle asked looking around and then she spotted Andrew. “Well my goodness. What is Andrew doing here? I thought you said he was in Chicago?”

“That is what he told me.” Tara replied from between gritted teeth. Her eyes were snapping blue fire and Andrew obviously saw it because he rushed over.

“What on earth are you two doing here?” Andrew whispered to Tara and Isabelle. He glanced around to make sure no one was watching.

“I was just going to ask you the same question.” Tara’s voice was growing dangerously louder all the time.

“Shhh! Keep it down.” Andrew whispered.
Tara looked absolutely infuriated at this point. Her face was turning from a healthy pink to an angry red and her eyes had turned from blue fire to a raging inferno.

“Andrew,” Aunt Isabelle said calmly, “I believe your cat is making a direct escape for the door.”

Andrew turned and ran after his gray cat just grabbing it before it could run out the open door. He returned with the squirming animal pinned to his chest.

“Tara, I…” Andrew started to say, but the dark haired woman running the show came over and shoed Andrew back to his table. Tara turned her back to Andrew and ignored him. Isabelle calmly petted George without saying a word.

“I can’t believe he would lie to me!” Tara whispered angrily.

“Maybe he has a good reason for being here.” Isabelle replied and patted Tara on the shoulder. “Let’s give him the benefit of the doubt until he can explain.”

“Well it better be soon.” Tara fumed.

“Yes I think it better be.” Isabelle had no more time to say anything else. A male vet had arrived to inspect George.

“Who have we here?” He asked in a friendly manner. He was tall with blonde hair and he visibly had a roaming eye because he seemed more interested in Tara then in George.

“This is George.” Isabelle spoke loudly and firmly catching the man’s attention.

“Ahhh, yes.” He put a scale down on the table and placed George on it. He glanced at the weight and then glanced again. “Whoops! I must have forgotten to hit the reset button.” He laughed and then pressed the button; the weight of sixteen pounds didn’t change.

“Oh,” was the vet’s only comment.

Isabelle, Tara noticed, looked very annoyed indeed.

“So is she a healthy cat? The vet asked glancing up from the paper he was writing on.

“How many female cats do you know of that are named George?” Isabelle asked rudely.

The vet’s neck turned a bit red and he smiled apologetically. “Sorry you see so many cats they begin to run together.” He coughed and then replied business like, “well he seems healthy enough. What is his breed?”

“Pure American.” Isabelle replied firmly.

“I don’t think Pure American is a breed. Just because he was born in America…” The vet laughed and then when he saw Isabelle’s pinched face he quickly scribbled Pure American on his clip board and then quickly left.