Muggly always had the right answers. I was convinced that the day I learned to speak cat, my romantic woes would come to an end. But until then, I suppose I had to figure things out for myself.

Okay, Montana, what are your options? I got it. I got it. I’ll just hide out here and act like I’m in Chicago. She’ll never know the difference. That’s it!

“Meoowww.”

You’re right, Muggly, that’s not it. Knowing my mother, she’ll call to wish me a Happy Thanksgiving and before I can respond, she’ll immediately want to know how things are going with Graham. I moved on to option number two. Thinking. Thinking. Thinking. Got it!

I’ll call her from my cell, tell her that I’m in Chicago, but things sorta kinda didn’t work out. And I decided that it would be best for us both to stay friends and not pursue anything further. That’s it!

“Meoowww.”

That’s not it, huh? After six months of hyping him up, there’s no way things didn’t work out unless he didn’t want them to work out. I’m left with only one option: tell the truth.

“Ye shall know the truth, Muggly, and the truth shall what? Set you free!” I’m a grown woman, and I’m gonna tell her the truth.

“Meoowww!”

At that very moment, I heard a key being inserted into my front door, the doorknob turning, and then slowly opening.

“Ahhhhhh!!”

“Meoowww!!”

It was my mother and baby sister, Sheree.

Catching her breath, holding her heart, “My God, Montana, you nearly gave me a heart attack. And you nearly scared Muggly to death too. Unlike me, if she died, she has eight more to go.”

I made the mistake of making my mother Muggly’s caretaker while I was on the road. Ever since, she’s given herself license to show up unannounced, acting like she’s there to feed Muggly, when really her true purpose is to pry into my love life, and rummage around my house looking for romantic leads.

“Momma!” I said, feigning my own surprise, “what are you doing here? Hey, Sheree.”

“Hey, Montana,” Sheree replied, looking a bit awkward.

“What do you mean what am I doing here? I’m here to feed Muggly. I bought her some gizzards so she could have a Thanksgiving of her own. But a better question would be what are you doing here? I thought you were in Chicago having ham with Graham.”

“Meoowww.”

That was my cue from Muggly to tell the truth.

“What am I doing here?”

“Yes, what are you doing here?” she asked again, eyebrows raised, eyes bugged.

“I’m here because…because…oh Momma, it was…tragic.”

“Meoowww.”

“What was tragic?”

“The accident.”

“Meoowww.”

“What accident?”