A Boy Demand

Ash kept circling the yard, his feet thudding on the paving stones. Spaghetti looked like a surrendered prisoner of war, though his tail wagged every time Ash lifted him too high. I leaned in the doorway, arms folded, trying not to laugh.

“I’m gonna bathe him later!” Ash shouted, like he’d read my mind. “Papi says cats like baths if there’s bubble bath!”

I shot a look at Zane. “You told him that?”

He shrugged. “A little motivation never hurts.”

“Motivation?” I almost laughed, bitter. “That’s sabotage. If Ash tries to bathe Spaghetti with bubble bath, we are all going to die tonight.”

Zane grinned, his white teeth catching the late sun. He looked like sin wrapped in birthday paper. Worse, he knew it.

Ash panted up to us. “Mommy, can Spaghetti sleep in my room?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because he has claws, and you have a face I intend to keep intact.”

Ash sniffed and turned to Zane for an ally. “Papi, say something.”

Zane knelt and ruffled Ash’s hair. “You know the difference between winners