“Hello, I’m Kent Wallace,” her father introduced himself, “and this ball of energy is Callie. We’re here to adopt a kitten.” His green eyes glittered when he looked at the child. He was over six feet tall, had thinning light-brown hair with a sprinkling of gray in the temples, and wore black-rimmed glasses.

April took a step forward and stuck out her hand. “I’m April O’Riley, and this is Stella. We’ll be glad to take out whichever kitten Callie wants to play with. That might help her decide. Is it really your birthday?”

“Yes, ma’am. I am six today. Daddy said I can have a kitten for my birthday and that I can even pick it out myself. Ooh, you’re pretty—blonde like me!” Callie said.

“Children have no filters on their mouths,” Kent chuckled.

“Isn’t it a wonderful thing that they are still innocent and honest?” April said.

“I’m naming my first kitten Belle,” Callie announced as she continued from cage to cage. “When I get my second one, it will be Cindy after Cinderella.”

Kent rolled his eyes and shook his head. “She’s got visions of having a cat named after each of the Disney princesses. I don’t share her grandiose ideas.”

“What’s granny owse?” Callie asked.

“Grandiose means high-and-mighty,” Kent explained.

“That’s a funny word.” Callie went back to checking out the cages.

“One a year until she’s eighteen and leaves home for college, and then you inherit the whole lot of them, right?” April asked.

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.” Kent chuckled again. “You related to Lucy O’Riley?”

“My grandmother,” April answered.

“I work with Paul Jones at the law firm. I met her several times when they were working on her will. Sassy old girl.” He smiled and shook his head.

“She was truly that,” Stella agreed. “Callie, do you see one that you want to take out of the cage?”

Callie set her little bow mouth in a firm line. “I like this orange one right here. It told me that it likes the name Belle.”

“Little problem there,” April said. “That’s a boy kitty.”

“Show me the girl ones, then,” Callie said.

April took her by the hand. “See the pink watering bowls? That says the kitten in that cage is a girl. The blue ones tell us that the ones in those cages are boys.”

“Shame on you, boy kitty.” Callie shot him a dirty look. “You meowed when I whispered Belle in your ear. I thought that meant you liked it.” She bypassed the blue bowls and only stared intently into the cages with pink ones. Finally she poked her finger at a cage that held a longhaired yellow kitten. “Daddy, this one looks like Belle, doesn’t she?”

“It’s your cat, so you have to make the decision,” Kent told her.