Part 3
Paul took the roof contract and the new timber figures back outside to Joel. He asked him to keep the creek and lower meadow out of the harvest, accepted the smaller sale, and arranged to sign the revised agreement once Mae had redrawn the boundary.
“I shouldn’t have said that about helping me,” he added.
Joel nodded and put the map away. He was on the phone to his foreman when Paul went back inside.
“Roof first,” he said. “I’ll close off the front steps. Use the back until I can replace them.”
“I’ll help with the steps in the fall. Two weekends, if we order everything first.”
She marked the dates in her work calendar. That afternoon they blocked the steps at the top and bottom with plywood, and Paul began taking the longer route to the mailbox through the back yard.
Before driving home Sunday evening, Tess phoned Audrey and asked to be included in the release arrangements.
On Monday he called a drainage contractor recommended by Mae. By Wednesday, a smooth pipe mouth had replaced the old outlet, and the contractor had shown him where to clear leaves from upstream without adding another wire screen.
Audrey called between feedings and treatments. The kitten was eating, the swelling was going down, and by the end of the week she was putting weight on the foot. She still hissed whenever anyone approached. Paul recorded the news beside his sightings of the mother, who continued to cross the camera’s view with the other three kittens.
At the top of the page he wrote Briar. Then he added bobcat kitten.
Nine days after the rescue, Audrey said the wound had closed and the kitten was moving well enough for them to attempt a reunion. She had coordinated with the wildlife agency and checked the place where the family still passed. She wanted the release setup near that route, with people out of sight and a way to keep the kitten secure if the mother didn’t accept her.
Audrey arranged the attempt for that evening, a Sunday, and called Tess as well as Paul. Tess traded the end of her shift with a colleague and reached the house while the van was still being unloaded.
They placed a temporary enclosure near the edge of the meadow, with a covered shelter inside. Audrey brought a low-light camera and checked its signal from the tractor shed. Paul helped anchor the enclosure, then stood back while she secured the covered carrier inside it.
“Can she run?” he asked.
“She’s shown us she can. What we need to see now is how her mother responds.”
From behind the shed wall, Paul worked the release handle while Audrey watched and reset the gate. Briar remained in the latched carrier until they had tested the mechanism several times. Then Audrey closed the enclosure gate and opened the carrier through a screened access panel.
The kitten darted into the shelter without looking toward the people who had brought her home.
By dark, the three of them were at the kitchen table with the camera feed open. Audrey had positioned her van beside the shed so she could rest nearby; before going out, she checked that both their phones would receive the alerts and told them to call her at once if the mother appeared.
“Even if you’re sure she’s behaving beautifully,” she said. “Wake me.”
Tess made sandwiches. Paul cut his into triangles, the way Marian used to cut Tess’s when she was little, and realized what he’d done only when his daughter smiled at the plate.
“She always said they tasted better like that,” Tess said.
“You insisted they did.”
“She believed me. You gave me a lecture about surface area.”
He remembered that. He had been explaining how the same amount of peanut butter could cover four pieces instead of two, while Marian stood behind their daughter’s chair making a face at him.
For a minute they ate without watching the screen. Then Briar crossed the enclosure, and both of them leaned forward.
Near midnight, Tess rubbed her eyes. Paul started to tell her to use the couch, but she was already carrying her mug to the sink.
“I’ll lie down where I can hear you,” she said. “Wake me if anything happens.”
He looked at the mug she’d left upside down on a towel. On Marian’s last night, Tess had put a glass in that exact place before lying on the couch in her work clothes. She had asked him to wake her then, too.
He had heard Marian’s breathing change. He had remained in the chair beside the rented bed, counting the pauses, while the small lamp lit the doorway to the room where their daughter slept. Afterward, he had said Tess needed the rest. She had never disputed that she was tired.
“I heard you that night,” he said now.
Tess stood with one hand on the back of a chair. She didn’t ask which night.
“I know you did.”
“I kept thinking, after the next breath. I’ll get you after the next one.”
She pulled the chair out but didn’t sit. Paul looked down at the table.
“I didn’t want to get up. She had my hand, and I didn’t want to let go long enough to cross the room.”
“You could’ve called my name.”
He nodded. It had been a small house then, too.
“I wanted to be there, Dad. Even if she didn’t know it.”
“I should’ve called you.”
Tess stood for another moment, then took a blanket to the couch, leaving the kitchen door open. Paul sat back down beside the screen.
When the camera alert finally came, he called Audrey first. The mother was beside the enclosure, sniffing the grass where they had walked; behind her, one of the other kittens rose on its hind legs to investigate the unfamiliar wire.
Paul went to the couch and put his hand on Tess’s shoulder. “Tess. She’s here. Come now…”
To read the rest of the story – CLICK the NEXT button 👇👇👇