Take A Step (unrestricted) (on hold)

Ten: Frustration at Its Best

A/N: So here we are, Chapter Ten. Sorry for the slow upload, I was caught up with my hands in the air, I hadn't been able to think for a while. Here goes. :)

Ten: Frustration at Its Best

Sophie

            “So will you…? Be coming home to me, I mean?” Aunt Kristen said from the other line.

            I could tell she was excited about this whole Holiday break thing this year, because she would be able to accommodate me. She last called me about two weeks ago, saying that she would be able to stay inside the house when I was there because she was on some sort of a vacation too. She was a civil lawyer, and she had too much paperwork at most times—her job bigger than her, all piled up in intimidating folders that you could probably burn if only they weren’t so important.

            “Yes, I already told you that. How’s Steve?” I asked.

            Steve, as I’d mentioned earlier, was my skinny, slightly blue cat with hazel eyes. Last year, during all kinds of breaks—spring break, winter break, holiday break, summer break and semester break, I wasn’t able to come home. I went with the Wiggs’ to their ranch, because Aunt Kristen was abominated as usual. And so I wasn’t able to spend time with Steve, who probably lived the life of a king while I was gone. You see, I left my room to him, and though Aunt Kristen was a lawyer, she was my grandfather’s favorite. When he died, he left only a quarter of his properties to dad, and the rest to Aunt Kristen. There were only two of them, and Pops knew dad would get along fine. Aunt Kristen was the younger one, so… you get the thing.

            And how did this relate to Steve, you ask?

            It’s fairly simple. You see, with Aunt Kristen being the fresh thirty-five year old lawyer with numerous properties around America, when she took me in, she sold her old apartment and bought a bigger house—one where my room back home is probably equivalent to ten rooms over here at St. Joan’s. It was complete with my own spa and a Jacuzzi (which I didn’t use because I was an insane, depressed, traumatized child), a walk-in closet, and an indoor game room. Our house was splendid, and my bed was huge. That is why I assumed that leaving Steve in there looking all tiny, he must have the life.

            “Well, Steve looked a little purple a month ago. I had him taken to the vet because he finished off about who-knows-how-many snacks from your fridge. I didn’t know he dug stuff up in there until he came down to my office one morning, purring aloud like he was pregnant or something. Then he puked on my shoes with purple vomit and I came to clean off his litter box filled with purple poo, too. Poor baby. The doctor said he was fine, and right now Steve’s by my leg again, scratching on my stockings. He’s back to being blue. I think he misses you.” I heard Aunt Kristen’s sharp intake of breath after telling me her story.

            I chuckled when I heard Steve’s lazy meow.

            “Let me talk to him,” I told Aunt Kristen.

            She laughed for a moment, but I heard shifting in the background and when she spoke again, her voice sounded like it came from a distance.

            “Talk to your mommy, Stevie.” I heard her whisper.

            Steve meowed into the cellphone, which got me laughing all over again.

            “Hey baby, it’s Sophie. Still remember me? I’m coming home, okay? Miss me?” He just answered with another of his meows, the one he used to use on me whenever he wanted his ball of yarn. I heard some shifting again, and Aunt Kristen’s voice was in its normal state.