Q

"Watch out!"

Karen jerked her head up. She cringed when the driver of the car yelled at her again, called her stupid. Tears brimmed in her eyes and spilled onto her cheeks. She knew she shouldn't care what a stranger thought, but it had been one of those days.

She'd slept in, enjoying the quiet, cool morning, drifting in and out of dreams. Then her mother called. She could tell Karen had been sleeping and told her she was lazy. It was true that she'd been out of work for almost three months. But finding a good job wasn't all that easy. Karen didn't want to settle. She wanted a job she could put her heart into and she'd been searching for the right company, the right job. But her mother was one of those people who was never satisfied. If Karen was CEO of General Electric, she'd tell her she should be running for president. Sheesh.

 Barely out of bed, her boyfriend was knocking at the door, a bag of donuts in hand. At the same time he was stuffing her mouth full of flour, butter and sugar fried in hydrogenated oil, he was telling her she ought to lose weight. She ought to lose weight. The fat on her waist was spilling over the top of her jeans, but why couldn't he bring tofu and bran flakes if he wanted her to look beautiful. What she looked like never mattered in the dark. And that hurt too. He never wanted to look at her when they made love.

Even her best friend couldn't resist trying to improve Karen. She showed up just after Ted left for work and begged a cup of coffee. Karen started telling her about Ted, the donuts, and her rolling waistline, but before she'd finished one sentence, Jenn was listing all the reasons why Karen's relationships with men failed. And it had nothing to do with the men. It was just Karen. Karen who ought to exercise more. Karen who ought to be more understanding. Karen who ought to take a class and get more "interests" so she would be more interesting to men.

The only person who had complained about Karen that day was Q, her cat. The cat she had enticed into the pet carrier with catnip and a spoonful of tuna. The cat she was taking to the vet. Q hated the vet, and screetched when Karen opened the door to the animal hospital.

She signed in, glanced at the clock. Wiped a fresh wave of tears from her eyes. She took Q out of her carrier, but had to put her back inside when one of the assistant's came by and pointed out the office rules.

"But..." Karen started to explain, but her throat seized and she couldn't talk. She put Q back in the carrier and cooed to her through the bars.

The assistant poked her head through the door and waved Karen into the inner office. She made Karen take Q out of the carrier and put her on the scale.

"Twelve pounds," the assistant said and scribbled Q's weight on her chart.

What the hell difference does it make? Karen wanted to scream. But tears rescued her from making an even bigger fool of herself. She followed the assistant into one of the exam rooms.

"You can say goodbye here," the assistant said.

"I want to be with her," Karen said.

The assistant didn't tell Karen what was wrong with her. She didn't need to. Her eyes were as expressive as Q's, calling Karen a coward. Karen dropped her head, stared at the floor.

When the assistant left she pulled Q out of her cage and cuddled her in her lap. All she could think of to say was, "I'm so sorry. So, so sorry." Tears dripped on Q's head, and she scowled at Karen, swiped the top of her head with her paw. "You so suck," the cat intimated with her gaze.

 "Little do you know," Karen thought.

Quick to forgive, the cat licked her fingers.

Q meowed when the vet took her out of Karen's arms and laid her on the table. She hissed at the vet when he punctured her skin with the needle, but nuzzled Karen's hand that was cupped under her head.

The cat purred when Karen tickled her chin. Without further complaint, Q yawned, closed her eyes, and went to sleep.