And, sure enough, after we all piled into the car—Nan in the passenger’s seat, me driving, and the pets and luggage crammed into the sports coupe’s tiny back seat—my grandmother immediately rolled down both windows.
“I should have sprung for the convertible when I had the chance,” Nan remarked, much to the horror of Octo-Cat, who’d finally shaken off his zoomies and was now back to his usual crabby self.
“Are you sure we can’t take my car?” I asked one last time while waiting for the engine to warm up a bit.
Nan turned to me, aghast.“Of course not. What’s the point in having a nice car if you never use it?”
Well, I wasn’t the one with the fancy sports car, but we would be sharing shifts, so I let that go. Our goal was to drive straight through to Colorado by alternating driving and sleeping shifts and consuming lots and lots of caffeine. I’d have preferred to actually stop at a motel for some rest along the way, but once Nan suggested making the trip a straight shot, Octo-Cat refused to have it any other way.
Tired but determined, I transitioned to drive.
Paisley let out a happy bark from right behind me, returning to her earlier song with even more volume than before. Frigid morning air rushed into the car as we picked up speed, and Paisley leaped over the center console, then scrambled onto Nan’s lap, using that extra bit of height to stick her goggled face out the window.
“See,” Nan clucked. “And you thought the goggles were too much.”
“Can we please close the window and turn on the sun now?” my cat moaned. He’d never liked car trips, but at least now he could take them without needing to keep his claws dug firmly into my thighs for added comfort—his, obviously, not mine.
“You woke us all up two hours early. It’s going to be dark for a while,” I reasoned.
“Dark, fine. But does it need to be so cold?” I glanced at him in the rear-view mirror and found his unhappy amber eyes boring into mine.
Paisley let out another excited yip in response.
“Maybe we can take turns with the window the same way we’re doing for the driving,” I offered with a small shrug, willing myself to focus on the road ahead of me and not at the angry animal behind me.
Then something strange happened. In fact, if I hadn’t been there myself, I never would have believed in.
Octo-Cat laughed. He actually laughed!
“The important thing is we reach my dear Grizabella as quickly as possible,” he said with a blissful sigh.
“Yeah,” I answered with a smile, hardly believing how reasonable he was being.
“Now drive faster please,” he commanded in a perfectly pleasant way.
I checked my speedometer and shook my head.“I’m already a few miles above the speed limit. Sorry.”
“Why sorry? You and I both know this car can go a lot faster.”
A quick look in the rear-view mirror revealed he was being perfectly serious, and if I didn’t comply with his demands, he’d start nagging at me again. I groaned and pressed down on the accelerator with a slight bit of added pressure before easing back again.
Oh, boy. This was going to be a long, long drive.
Chapter Eight
A couple hours into our trip, the sun had finally begun to peek over the horizon. Nan had spent most of that morning dozing softly beside me. Paisley had settled in her lap and was making cute whimpering noises as she rested. Octo-Cat, on the other hand, remained in the back seat endlessly droning on about all his plans for his week with Grizabella.
I nodded along saying nothing as was expected, since when Octo-Cat spoke, he usually did it for his own benefit rather than anyone else’s.
“Mommy,” a small voice rose up from beside me. I quickly turned to see Paisley had lifted her head and was staring at me with wide, sparkling eyes. “I have to go potty.”
We’d just passed the perfect exit for a quick pit stop not even two minutes ago. We were also on the portion of our trip that took us through rural countryside, which meant the options would be few and far between.
“I’ll keep an eye out,” I said, since that was the best I could do. “I promise.”
“Excuse me, I’m talking here,” the tabby in the back seat growled and then continued with his long-winded soliloquy.
“I don’t think I can hold it,” the little dog squeaked, standing now and raising one paw after the other in excitement.
Nan awakened with a snort and glanced around the car with bleary eyes.
Paisley whimpered again, louder and more persistent.
“I promise we’ll stop as soon as the next exit pops up. It won’t be too much longer, okay?” I hoped this little white lie ended up being true.
“I can’t hold it. I can’t hold it,” Paisley squealed.
I knew better than to push our luck, lest Nan land herself with a lap full of doggie pee. So I pulled the sports coupe to the side of the highway, grateful there weren’t many people out at this early hour. Rush hour hadn’t even begun yet.
“Be very careful,” I explained before opening my door and allowing Paisley to trot after me. “And don’t go where I can’t see you!”