LITMIR.BIZ

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      “What?” asks Tish.

      “Since we’re all going to the wedding, I need a sitter for the kittens. And speaking of permanent cat sitters—”

      “I’ll take a kitten,” says Tish.

      “Me too,” says A.J. “Hell, with a deli downstairs, the thing will never starve.”

      The teenage girl’s eyes bug out as I open the door wearing a bridesmaid’s dress that was obviously designed during a power failure. “Wow, Miss Shaw. You must be a really good friend to someone to wear that.”

      “Kelly, remember this phrase when you start being included in bridal parties. You’ll be able to wear this dress again. Biggest lie you’ll ever hear.” I usher her in to my home, giving her enough room to get by my ridiculously puffy sleeves that look like they’re filled with helium and ready to explode. “I really appreciate you doing this.”

      “Hey, I love cats. And we actually had an orphaned kitten years ago. I know the routine.” I point out all the cat supplies on the kitchen table. The tall, skinny seventeen year old brunette is the incredibly normal daughter of a neighbor who lives down the street, a teen who actually speaks instead of having her head buried in a cell phone. But she can’t stop giggling as she looks at my outfit. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude—”

      “Oh, you should have heard me while I was putting on this monstrosity.” The orange dress (ghastly color for a redhead, or any woman for that matter) is made of this incredibly itchy fabric with a tight waist that makes my ass look like I’ve had a Kardashian upgrade and an angled hemline that starts at the knee on the right and ends at the ankle on the left. With lovely matching ballet slippers. Then for some bizarre reason there’s a circular thing sewn onto the waist that looks like the hand warmers football players wear during cold games. We’re supposed to keep our hands in there as we go down the aisle. Why, I have no clue. (A.J. says it’s to keep us from flipping the bird at the designer who is a friend of the bride and attending the wedding.) I’ll get to wear it again if a pirate ever asks me to a retro seventies disco when it’s ten below zero outside. Or if Macy’s ever needs an orange float in the Thanksgiving Day parade.

      “Well, people will be looking at the bride.”

      “Yeah, but they’ll be laughing at the bridesmaids.” I hear the car horn outside and know the girls are here to pick me up. “Okay, you’ve got my cell if you need anything.”

      “Don’t worry, Miss Shaw, the kittens are in good hands.”

      I crack open the door, hoping none of the neighbors will see me but as luck would have it the weather is spectacular and everyone is outside on this beautiful Saturday afternoon. I quickly rush for the car. The guy who lives across the street spots me, starts to laugh, pulls out his cell phone and points it at me to take a photo.

      I practically dive into the back seat before he has a chance.

      Rory is behind the wheel with Tish riding shotgun while A.J. is next to me. “Drive! Now!”

      Rory turns around. “What, you don’t want the neighbors to see you dressed like the Sunkist blimp?”

      “Just go!”

      She turns back, puts the car in gear and drives off. “Count your blessings. At least you’re not the only one wearing this.”

      “Yeah, but I’ll be the only one with a photo that goes viral.”

      After a ceremony during which all the people in the church, including the priest, tried their best not to laugh during what is now referred to as “the procession of tangerines”, we all make it to the reception, where thankfully there is an open bar. Of course the bartender can’t help himself and starts laughing as I approach since this outfit just cries out for something sarcastic. He grabs the orange juice and vodka, quickly makes me a Screwdriver. “The perfect accessory for your … dress,” he says, as he hands me the drink.

      “Very funny.” But at this point I just need alcohol, so I keep it. I feel a hand on my shoulder and turn around to find Rory with my blind date.

      It’s all I can do to keep my jaw from dropping, as the guy is even more handsome than his photo. About six-three, short dark hair, deep-set dark eyes, a classic anchorman’s square jaw, and filling out an expensive dark gray suit like a model.

      “Madison, this is Rob.”

      He extends his hand. “Great to meet you, Madison.”

      I shake it as I can’t help but stare at this Greek god. “Uh, yeah, you too. Thanks so much for bailing me out today.”

      “My pleasure. I feel like I already know you since I watch your network. You look very different in person.”

      “I would imagine since we all just got here from the citrus queen pageant. The talent competition knocked me out.”

      He laughs. “I didn’t mean the dress. You look more … real.”

      “Well, they do pile on the makeup at the network.”

      Rory lightly touches my arm. “I’ll leave you two to get acquainted.”

      “Thanks again, Rory.”

      “Yes,” says Rob. “Thank you.” He gestures toward a table. “Shall we?”

      It’s very late and I’m slightly buzzed as Rob drives me home. Thankfully he has ignored my hideous outfit and we are really hitting it off. He’s a fabulous dancer and a gentleman, with his hands not going anywhere they weren’t supposed to be. Even during the Bunny Hop.

      I can’t help but think how much has changed in just a week all because I inherited a box of kittens. How much I’ve changed. And how quickly I am putting Jeremy in the rear-view mirror to the point I can’t even see him.

      Pretty easy with a guy like Rob as my escort.

      I point at my house as he turns onto my street. “I know it’s late, but would you like a nightcap or some coffee?”

      “Sure, that’d be great.”

      I look at my watch and see it’s just after midnight. “Well, it’s past twelve. I guess I didn’t have to turn into a pumpkin since I already look like one.”

      He laughs as he pulls into my driveway. “So, you ever gonna wear that thing again?”

      “If I’m the grand marshal of a Halloween parade. The minute we get inside I’m getting out of this dress.” He gets out of the car, walks around to my side and opens the door for me. “Thank you, kind sir.” I lead him to the front door just as Kelly opens it.

      Her eyes widen as she checks out my date. “Did you have a good time?”

      “Yeah. Rob, this is Kelly. She lives down the street and was my sitter tonight. So, were the little guys okay?”

      “I was just about to feed them again.”

      “I’ll take care of it, Kelly.”

      Rob’s face immediately tightens and he puts up his hands. “Whoa, you never said you had kids.”

      “I don’t. C’mon in, I’ll show you.” I quickly pay Kelly and thank her. She leaves and I lead Rob over to the box of kittens, beaming like a proud parent. “Aren’t they cute?”

      “You hired a babysitter for a litter of kittens?”

      “They’re orphans. The mother cat died. So they have to be bottle fed every few hours.”

      “You’re kidding.”

      “Nope.” The tortoiseshell starts meowing, so I pick it up. “This one’s my favorite. Feel how incredibly soft the fur is.”

      He actually backs up a step and puts up his hands again. “Uh, that’s okay.”

      “What, you

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