Hidden Love by MINK

2

Georgia

Feeling excited, I hit the submit button. I try not to get my hopes up. This is the first job I’ve applied for that I really want. I had no idea it would be so difficult to find a position when I left college, but it’s proving to be harder than I thought.

“I’m not being picky,” I tell Mr. Grumpy Pants, who’s lying on the counter where he’s not supposed to be while giving me a judgy look. Then again, I think that’s his normal face. I let him get away with lounging there because he’s so stinkin’ cute with his hair sticking up in a million different directions. He really does live up to his name. When I went to adopt him, the shelter tried to warn me away from him. I refused to budge. I was going to give his grumpy butt a home and smother him with love. So I let him lie on the counter.

“I just want to find the right position, you know? It’s my first real job. First should always be the best,” I explain. “I mean, you didn’t want me to work at the dog place, right?” I get up from my chair and walk over to pet him. “Firsts should be bests. First kisses, first loves, even first--” I cover his little kitten ears. “Sex,” I whisper. “But you don’t need to know about those things.” I give his little ears a rub because I’d held them down. “Like you. You’re my first cat, and you're purrfect!” I laugh at my own joke.

Mr. Grumpy Pants keeps the judgmental look on his face, not finding my joke funny at all. He’s such a little cutie pie.

I couldn't have a cat when I lived in the dorm at college. When I’d moved off campus I shared a small place with a few other girls. One was allergic, so again, I couldn't have one. The day I moved into my little studio apartment, I was down at the shelter getting myself my first little kitty.

“Let’s make cookies for Mrs. Wilson to celebrate.” It will help occupy my time while I wait to see if I get an interview. How long does that take? I have a small nest egg left and only so much time to find a job. I refuse to take money from my father.

His money comes with a whole bunch of strings attached. Lucky for me, my grandma had left me a trust when she’d passed. When my father found out, he’d almost hit the roof. I don’t think it was so much about the money not having gone to him, but the fact that I was offered some form of freedom. I’m hoping with time he can see this was all for the better. That he doesn't have to control me for us to have a relationship. Although I don’t think he’ll ever agree with that statement.

“No sprinkles this time.” I shake my head. The last time I took cookies over to Mrs. Wilson she threw them away saying she hated sprinkles. Who hates sprinkles? She often makes the same face as Mr. Grumpy Pants but I’m working on her, too. She’ll warm up to me soon enough. She has to! We’re going to be neighbors for a while, and she needs some sunshine in her life. I will turn that frown of hers upside down.

I scoot Mr. Grumpy Pants off the counter, which earns me a meow of displeasure. I wipe the surface down, then get to work on gathering all the ingredients to make the cookies. I put some music on, singing along with it as I mix the recipe together and slide the first batch into the oven. I set the timer and try to be patient. I can’t wait to brighten Mrs. Wilson's day with a special little treat.

I keep busy with cleanup for a little while so I don’t obsessively check my emails. I mean, it’s going to take more than an hour, probably days, maybe weeks (oh no) to hear back. So I shouldn’t keep thinking about it. But when I hear my email ding, I drop the pan of cookies I was pulling out of the oven on top of the stove and run over to check my email.

I pray it’s not another email from Mike. He baits me into talking to him with kitten pictures, but I know what he’s really after. July says he’s after my pussy. Of course I turn three shades of red whenever she says that. I think she does it on purpose. She always gets a kick out of shocking me. But I’ll put up with it to make her happy. It’s a really good day when I can get her to smile. It’s a phenomenal day when I can steal a laugh. She and I are night and day, but somehow we work as best friends.

It’s from Baxter International, the place I just applied. I let out a small scream that sends Mr. Grumpy Pants running into his cat house. “Sorry!” I shout at him. “Sorry,” I try again with a whisper. I’m guessing yelling again isn’t helping calm him down.

I click the email. I read it three times, not believing what I’m seeing. No interview. I just got the job. Easy as that? I smile, because I knew today was going to be my lucky day. Having a positive attitude toward life always helps.

“See, Mr. Grumpy Pants? If you put out happiness, you’ll receive happiness back.” I dance around, still not believing I got the job. Mr. Grumpy Pants does not look the least bit convinced of my happiness theory.

“Keep it down up there!” Mr. Samson yells from downstairs and hits the ceiling with what I’m guessing is a broom.

“Sorry! I got the job,” I shout to him.

“No one cares,” he shouts back.

Maybe I should take him some cookies, too. He also seems to need a little sunshine in his life, and I’m going to make sure he gets it. That’s how I live my life, being as positive as I possibly can. I learned long ago not to let the little things that didn’t matter in life bring me down. My dad is a miserable human being most of the time, and I never want to be that way. So at a young age, I decided to turn negatives into positives and focus on those. Not everyone understands this, but I don’t let it deter me. I’ll never live under the dark cloud he let rule our home. Maybe one day, he’ll let me give him a little bit of sunshine. Miracles happen.

Look at me. I got the job, and I have Mr. Grumpy Pants. I am on a roll at this adulting thing. Nothing is going to stop me.