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Chapter 15: Gravy

Katherine woke up but couldn't quite bring herself to open her eyes. She was so warm and comfortable, and there was a reassuring weight starting at her shoulder and ending with her ribcage. She could feel something tracing small circles on her back. She might have just fallen back asleep if not for a loud meow.

"Shh, Lottie," a soft voice rumbled near her ear. Katherine opened one eye and saw a small grey cat staring up at her. She let out a small laugh as the cat shook her paw at the couch, as if waving to get her attention.

"Bloody cat," Kevin mumbled. Katherine felt the circles cease on her back as she looked up at him. "I better feed her."

Katherine nodded and shifted her weight, curling closer into the couch. Kevin stood, saying "Come on, girl," as he picked the cat up.

Katherine looked out the windows behind the couch as she put her glasses back on her face. She hadn't seen them properly in the dark last night, but they were huge. The sill looked wide enough to sit on, and she was sure that Lottie spent many a sunny morning stretched out there.

"Coffee?" Kevin called to her from what she assumed was the kitchen. She stood, taking her blanket with her, and followed his voice.

"Yes please," she said, sitting down at a small table in the corner.

"I would have brought it to you," Kevin said, putting a kettle on his stove. He opened a cupboard and pulled down a container of instant coffee and two mugs. They were mismatched—one had what Katherine assumed was a sports logo on it, the other had a cartoon clown.

The kitchen was small. There was a wire shelf in the corner that held a variety of pots and pans, all stacked neatly. Katherine wondered how much Kevin cooked for himself here rather than eating at the pub. Lottie was quietly eating her own breakfast in the corner, taking breaks occasionally to lick her paw.

He filled the mugs each with coffee and brought them to the table. "Not the clown," Katherine said, unsure she could handle that this morning. Kevin laughed and gave her the sporty mug instead. Katherine brought the mug up to her nose and took a long whiff of the roasty liquid.

"Did you sleep okay?"

"I did," she answered, still holding the mug to keep her hands warm. "Thanks for letting me stay here."

"Of course," he said, taking a drink himself.

They didn't say much, but it wasn't the kind of silence that you wanted to fill. It was soft and bright in the kitchen, and Katherine just wanted to sit in this very peaceful and easy moment for a moment before returning to everything that had happened last night.

Kevin reached out and took her hand. He ran his thumb over her ring. "Where did you get this?" he asked.

Katherine stretched her spine and raised her shoulders with a sigh. "My mom gave it to me, or I guess my dad, technically. I've had it for as long as I can remember."

"Hmm," Kevin said, fiddling with it. "You twist it when you're worried or thinking about something."

Katherine chuckled. "I barely notice anymore."

"And you chew your cheek."

She looked at him and scrunched her eyebrows.

"You've been watching me," she joked.

"Not hard," he said. "You're almost always thinking."

"True," Katherine admitted. "How long have you lived here?" she asked, living up to his assessment.

"About 5 years. My parents bought the pub when we moved here. I started working right away, mopping up in the back or bringing around plates. Then, when I turned 20, Dad decided it was time to retire and he and Mom moved back to London. They travel a lot. I like it here though—quieter. So I took over the pub. I lived upstairs for a while, but eventually I bought this place."