Author’s note: I recently stocked up on thinner socks that fit better with my new orthotics, and found a bundle of twelve pairs of cat socks for six dollars. One of the pairs spurred my dormant writing muse, and thus I present a sequel to a future!StageFright Nightmare Dork University story by @bowlingforgerbils, based on a prompt by @tejoxys, and including a cameo of a character created by @gretchensinister.
Read this first: http://bowlingforgerbils.tumblr.com/post/69754576173/so-i-just-read-that-drabble-about-protos-ferret
Then read the 12/24/2004 entry in the epilogue to The Doors of Perception.
Yes, I’m crossing the streams DAMN HARD.
Emily insisted on carrying the bag with the dishes for her new pet all by herself, since she had paid for them with her own birthday money. Jack held her other hand in one of his while he juggled the box containing the new cat bed in the other, and silently congratulated himself on pointing his daughter towards the melamine bowls rather than the china ones that had first caught her eye.
They climbed the stairs to the brownstone together, Jack matching his longer strides to Emily’s shorter ones. He put the box down on the stoop to wrangle the front door keys, and Emily ran inside as soon as the door was open, calling “Papa, we’re home!”
Jack followed her into the big communal kitchen, where he found Piki and Tasha, their third-floor housemate this year, sitting at the table drinking coffee and watching a rotund orange tabby rubbing noses with an elderly Siamese.
“See, Daddy, I told you they’d like each other!”
The older cat seemed slightly alarmed at the enthusiasm of the younger cat, who had yet to “find his name”, according to Emily. However, she didn’t hiss or swat, but resignedly submitted to the nuzzling. Jack imagined he could hear Brunhilde sighing to herself. She’d put up with visits from Proto and Mister Pickles in years past, after all. Jack had to think that a live cat would be a definite improvement over a stuffed ferret.
Piki said dryly, “I expect they’ll have a difference of opinion over who gets the sunny spot in the living room.”
“Oh no, Papa, they won’t! They’ll be best friends, I know it!”
Tasha interjected, “Well, since your fathers told me about how much you like kitties, Emily, I thought you might like these.” She held out a wrapped present to the little girl, who pounced on it with glee. Tearing the coloured paper open revealed a package of socks, each decorated with a different cat design.
“Thank you, Tasha! I love them! So pretty!”
The mindfulness instructor replied, “You’re very welcome, kiddo. My students agree with me that it’s easier to study with happy feet. And learning never stops being fun, even for grown-ups.” She stuck out an ankle from under the table so that Emily could see Tasha’s horse socks.
Jack said, “Put them carefully in your dresser drawer, Emily, and you can wear them to school.”
Piki shot him a look which meant, in old-married-couple parlance, We’d better run them through the washer before she wears them!
Jack wondered how they were going to sneak them out of her room to wash them without their daughter noticing, when inspiration hit him. “Let’s work on getting your friend set up with his new bed, and then we can have cake.”
Later, Jack and Piki furtively looked in on a sleeping Emily, exhausted from her busy day and her sugar crash, her fat orange furfriend snuggled up besides her on the coverlet. Piki very quietly opened the top bureau drawer in the dark and did his best not to crinkle the cellophane as he handed the package of socks to Jack. It wasn’t until they had closed her bedroom door and turned on the hallway light that they realized that the package was open and one of the pairs of socks was missing.
“Minx!” Piki whisper-hissed. “I’d wager they’re under her pillow.”
“Or they’re in the cat bed,” Jack replied. “Don’t worry. I’m sure they’ll turn up. It’s her present, let her have fun in her own way.”
Piki sighed fondly, “You’re right, of course. But if she goes to school with green or purple dye on her toes, well...”
Jack thrust the full basket of laundry into his husband’s arms. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
They were both nonplussed at breakfast the next morning when they each found a small package, rewrapped clumsily but thoroughly, in yesterday’s wrapping paper, at their usual places on the kitchen table. Emily giggled all the way through her cornflakes until she finally couldn’t stand it anymore. “Aren’t you gonna open’em?”
Mystified, Jack and Piki started unwrapping, the dark head and the silver one bent over their presents, treating the situation with utter seriousness.
The small bundles each contained a single sock. Each showed a white cat and a black cat, tails entwined, sitting on a fence under a golden moon.
Piki started to say something about not being able to wear just one sock when Jack kicked him hard under the table. He sputteringly changed it to, “That’s so thoughtful, sweetheart. Thank you.”
Jack added, “Yes, sweetie, I love it.”
Emily grinned widely. “See? It’s you and Papa!”
Piki said gently, “Indeed. You have a wonderful eye for design, darling. I will definitely treasure this.” He picked up Jack’s hand and kissed it.
“Oooooh, mush! Mushy alert!”
Years later, those socks still had a place of honour, hanging on either side of their bureau mirror.
