Chapter 4

Saturday afternoon, I got a call from my landlord. "Jessica, starting next month, the rent goes up by 300 dollars. You know how the market is these days; I hope you get it."

I held the phone, my fingers turning cold. Rent already ate up half my paycheck. Another 300 dollars, and I might be living on instant pasta for every meal.

But what could I say? All I could do was meekly reply, "Okay, Mrs. Parker. Got it."

After hanging up, I sat on the sofa for a long while.

Muffin hopped onto my lap. Sunny rested his chin on my knees.

Sunny said, "She's upset again."

Muffin said, "The phone said the rent's going up by 300 dollars."

"How much is that?" Sunny asked.

"About half a month's food for us," Muffin replied.

"Then what do we do?" Sunny asked again.

The two furballs fell silent.

I stroked their fur, my mind a jumble. Should I find a cheaper place? But it would be farther from work, and commuting costs would rise. Should I take a side job? But I already worked late most nights.

Sunny said, "I'll go pick up bottles for cash."

Muffin swatted him on the head with a paw. "You're a dog, not a trash collector."

"Then what do we do..." Sunny whined.

"Let me think," Muffin said.

I didn't pay much attention to their "discussion" and got up to wash my face. When I came back, Muffin was perched on the windowsill, staring at the neighbor's balcony below.

The neighbors had a tank of goldfish basking in the sun. Muffin's tail tip twitched.

My chest tightened. "Muffin, don't even think about those fish."

Muffin looked back at me, eyes innocent. But I heard her thoughts. "Scare one, make her pay. That's enough for rent."

I said, "Absolutely not."

Sunny said, "Then how about I go to the park and pick up frisbees to sell?"

"Nobody would buy them."

"Then..."

"Forget it. She wouldn't let us anyway."

I walked over, scooped Muffin down from the windowsill, and ruffled Sunny's head. "I'll figure out the money," I said softly. "You two just stay healthy and happy, okay?"

Sunny nuzzled my palm. "She's really good to us."

Muffin looked away with a little huff. "She's kind of silly, though."

But that night, I noticed Muffin didn't go near the window again. Sunny lined up his chew toys neatly by the bed—he'd always scattered them before. They seemed to be finding their own ways to ease my worries.

*****

Sunday morning, I took them to the vet for their annual vaccines.

Sunny, scared of needles, kept trying to hide behind me. Muffin sat cool and aloof on the exam table, her tail stiff as a rod.

Sunny whimpered, "It hurts..."

Muffin said, "Tough it out. She can't afford a second round."

"Okay..." Sunny whimpered softly.

The nurse smiled and tried to comfort him. "Sunny, you're such a good boy. It'll be over in a second."

When the needle went in, Sunny shivered but didn't cry. But I could hear his thoughts screaming, "Mommy, mommy, mommy—"

I held his head gently. "Alright, alright, it's over now; it's all done."

Muffin stayed even quieter.

Afterwards, the nurse said, "All done. The vaccine price didn't go up this year—one hundred dollars each, two hundred dollars for both."

I paid with my card, feeling my heart bleed. It looked like I'd be surviving on plain bread again this month. But I smiled brightly anyway. "Thank you, doctor."

Back home, Sunny lay listlessly in his bed. Muffin crouched beside him, unusually tolerant.

Sunny groaned, "I feel dizzy..."

Muffin replied, "That's normal. Just sleep it off."

"Is she broke?" Sunny asked.

"Yeah," Muffin replied.

"Then I'll skip the canned food. Kibble's fine for me," Sunny said.

"Same here," Muffin chimed in.

I was carrying a bowl of water when I heard that. I paused. Squatting in front of them, I set the bowl down.

"Listen," I said seriously, "even if I have to scrape by myself, I'll make sure you two are always well-fed and cared for. That's what being your human means."

Sunny lifted his head, eyes glistening. "But I don't want her to have to scrape by."

Muffin stared at me for a long moment, then turned and licked Sunny's ear. "Then we'll be nicer to her."

"Nicer how?" Sunny asked.

"No shedding, no scratching the sofa, no stealing the ham."

"That's hard—"

"Try anyway."

I laughed and ruffled their heads. Somewhere deep inside, I felt both warm and bitter.