The Nine Lives of Jay Catsby (#OnceUponNow)

Jay's Confession

I kiss my wife and my newborn baby girl. It is the first time I've gotten to hold her since she was born. She's so small—her hands the size of a button, her fuzzy head fits in the palm of my hand—but she's breathing normally. She's healthy. I look at Tiffany. She's exhausted, her hair is slick and matted, but she's beautiful. She smiles at me. We're both crying, but now it's tears of joy.

I hand our daughter to the nurse, who promises to bring her back. I kiss my wife again, tell her I'm going to slip out for a drink but that I'll return. I step out into the dark hallway of the hospital, the biggest smile on my face, when I realize what's missing.

Jay.

I put a hand to my chest. Where did he go? I know his energy will be spent and he'll sleep soon. If someone at the hospital finds him, they'll send him to the shelter (if I'm lucky), and I may never see him again. Panic ensues. I begin searching the hospital, attempting to be coy, but a nurse spots me and asks if I need help. I smile and shake my head. That's when I hear a soft cry. mew. mew. I look at the nurse, who is just staring at me. She didn't hear it, and right then I know Jay's crying for me.

I follow the tiny cries to a dark empty waiting room and find Jay under a chair. He looks smaller than I remember. Weak. I tell myself this is normal.

"Thank God I found you," I say, picking him up with one hand and stroking his gray fur. I can feel his ribs. He blinks, looks up at me.

"Is she...?"

"She's fine, I assure him. You did good, Cat."

"Don't ever call me that," he scolds. I laugh and rub the spot under his chin.

"She's wonderful," I continue. "Ten toes, ten fingers, bright eyes. She's amazing, Jay."

"That's great, Steve. Look, I need to tell you somet—"

"I can't believe it worked. And we're at eight now, right? So we're done. Thank God."

"Steve," he says sternly and puts a paw in my face. The tone in his voice stops my ramblings. I look at him and widen my eyes, signaling he has my full attention.

"Steve, I have to confess something to you." He pauses, goes silent for a minute.

"What?" I ask. "You're scaring me. What's the matter?"

He sighs, his voice is unsure. "That wasn't just number eight, Steve. That was number nine, too."

That quickly, my heart drops. But he's wrong, I know it. We followed the rules. "No, we counted. You told me. The girl, the burn victim. Six and seven."

"I'm sorry Steve," he tells me. "But I lied to you."

"No!" I shout to him in a whisper. I'm blinking constantly now, fighting the tears pricking behind my eyes. "No," I say again quieter. "Why didn't y—no, how long have you—you didn't." My words fail me. I shake my head in denial.

"The drowned boy," Jay begins. I place him on one of the metal chairs and sit next to him. "Once I saved him, I hid in the grass near a tree. His brother returned and was crying in relief. I never felt so good about anything in my life, to see that joy. The ambulance arrived a few minutes later and said they were taking the boy to the local hospital. After I rested, I wanted to go there, to make sure the boy was okay. I had never done this before, so I wanted to make sure hit worked.