Tailing A Tabby

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To Jon.

Always.

Chapter 1

Once upon a time, I’d imagined my adulthood would include a bright purple bicycle, a daily dish of ice cream, hair that would do whatever I wanted it to, and lots of books.

Fast-forward to my present age of thirty-three. These days, my bicycle was a silvery green, my ice cream had turned into fruits and vegetables, and my black curly hair still refused to obey any command I gave it.

I glanced into the small round mirror above the windshield and grinned at what I saw behind me. At least I’d gotten the books part right.

“Hey, Minnie, did I tell you that if I ever get a tattoo, it’ll be a cherry blossom?”

Of course, my childhood vision of a bookish future hadn’t taken into account that the books would be on a bookmobile, that I’d be driving said bookmobile, that I’d be accompanied by a teenage volunteer, or that my—

“Mrr.”

—that my recently acquired cat, Eddie, would have become a fixture on the bookmobile. “There is no way,” I told him, “that you’re getting a tattoo. Thessie can do whatever she wants, assuming her parents approve.”

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