Chapter 6: The Day He Called Me Mom
Not just him—Daisy, who’d warmed his feet, was sick too. Because of course she was.
I called in sick for him and rushed both kid and dog to the hospital. Juggling a feverish child and a droopy golden retriever, I felt like a one-woman circus act.
Daisy needed to stay at the animal hospital for a few days, so I drove Ethan home first.
On the way, he suddenly shouted for me to stop, struggling out of his booster seat. (Yes, I’d finally remembered to get one.)
He squatted by a trash can, looked up at me, and asked, “She looks pregnant. Can we take her home?”
I touched his cold nose and cheeks, smiling. “Of course.”
I took off my coat, and together we brought the pregnant stray cat to the animal hospital. The smell of antiseptic, the tiny mewling sounds—it was a whole new adventure.
Ethan asked, “Why don’t we take her home? She won’t fight with Daisy.”
“The doctor has to check if she and her babies are healthy. On Saturday, I’ll take you to pick up her and Daisy, okay?”
He nodded hard, eyes shining with hope.
Because of this, he was restless for two days. Early Saturday morning, he woke me up before dawn, and I had no choice but to brave the cold and bring him to pick up both cat and dog.
Daisy was thrilled to see me, but Ethan’s attention was all on the pregnant cat—feeding her treats, petting her belly, whispering secrets.
Daisy got jealous, whining and circling the room, and I had to laugh at the drama.
Another Sunday, Michael managed to call. I pointed the camera at Ethan, who was busy scooping litter for the cat.
“Ethan adopted a stray cat. He’s busy cleaning up after her.”
Michael chuckled. “As long as he’s behaving.”
Ethan didn’t notice me behind him. After he finished, he sat on the floor, back to me, cuddling the cat and talking to himself.
Daisy tried to squeeze in, but he pushed her away. “Daisy, you can’t fight with the cat. When she has her babies, she’ll die.”
“We both have to let her have her way.”
My stomach dropped. I knelt beside him and checked the mother cat—nothing was wrong, thankfully.
I asked, “Ethan, why do you say the cat will die after having her kittens?”
He didn’t look up. “Grandpa and Grandma told me.”
I was shocked at their cruelty, but I stayed patient and explained, “Ethan, Miss Lauren—”
He interrupted, “Not Miss Lauren. It’s Mom.”
I froze for a few seconds, like someone had just brushed a feather across my heart. It felt strange, but in a good way.
“Okay, then Mom will tell you—if you take good care of her, the cat won’t die after having her kittens.”
“She and her kittens will stay with you.”
Ethan’s eyes lit up. “Just like Mom will always stay with me?”
I kissed his cheek and answered seriously, “Yes, Mom and the cat will always be here for you.”










