“She responds well to Susan,” he offered weakly, as though this settled anything.
“Greg.”
He exhaled. “I found the litter behind the shed yesterday afternoon and called the rescue. They told me to watch from a distance and see if the mother came back for them. She didn’t. When the temperature started dropping tonight and they got distressed, the rescue told me to bring them inside. I managed to get Susan out easily. Steve was the one who crawled too deep.”
“Steve,” I repeated flatly.
“Susan’s sibling,” he said, pointing at the box as though this explained the name.
“So you’ve volunteered our house.”
“Temporarily.”
“Our guest room.”
“Also temporarily.”
“Our bed?”
He glanced up toward the ceiling, toward our bedroom, as if it were very far away. “Technically I volunteered myself out of that part.”
I crossed my arms. “So the back pain?”
He had the decency to look guilty. “Actually hurts a bit now, if I’m honest.”
