“I want that too.” She eats the orange slice and tosses the peel in a trash can. “I think we’re gonna be okay, Sweet Pea. Even when we’re not.”

Chapter Thirty-Three

Project BFF

Immediately after school, I go over to Miss Flora Mae’s house. We spend the afternoon on her screened-in porch with fans buzzing at us from all sides. She answers letter after letter while I face down my last, and hardest, assignment as a seventh grader: Project BFF.

I’m armed with a notepad and pencil, but my brain can’t form a thought. All my words are mushed together in my head like one giant pile of melted gummy worms.

I lie there on the floor beneath the slowly whirring ceiling fan. When it’s this hot, what’s the point of even having fans? All they do is push hot air around. “Miss Flora Mae, can I ask you a question?”

She swivels in her chair to face me and slides her glasses down her nose, lowering her gaze. “Let’s hear it.”

“Why did you get Bette Davis stuffed after she died? Doesn’t it just make you even more sad to be constantly reminded that she’s not here?”

“That cat.” She chuckles. “That cat hated me, but outside of myself, she was the love of my dear husband’s life. So he’s actually the one who got her stuffed.” She pulls up her sleeve to reveal a long scar across her forearm. “You see this thing? This was her parting gift the last time I gave her a flea bath.”

I’ve got a few battle scars from Cheese too. Bette Davis looked like a pretty tough cat, but it sounds like she really belonged to Miss Flora Mae’s husband. “But why do you keep her when your husband . . .”

“When he’s dead too?” She shrugs and leans back in her chair. “Sometimes it’s important to do things for the people you love even when those things don’t make a lick of sense to you.” She shakes her head. “I hated that dang cat, but I loved her, too, because he loved her.”

Bette Davis makes me think of my mom and Sam and my dad and his new business. I want to be excited about the things they’re excited about, but it’s hard when you feel like you’re the past and they’re looking toward the future. It also makes me think of Oscar and how things might change between us with Kiera back in my life and him signing up for wrestling and maybe making new friends. But I can’t imagine any version of Oscar I wouldn’t want in my life.

I stand up and grab the handle on Miss Flora Mae’s desk drawer. “May I?”

“Be my guest.”

I open the drawer and fish out the red cat-eye glasses without lenses and put them on like I’m suiting up for battle. “Okay if I turn on some music?”