I hid Don Gato under Reed's jacket when I got on the bus. I looked like I was six-months pregnant, but there was no way I could walk the entire way. It was now a little more than an hour after Jon and Bitsy had left for school. Don Gato was still alive when I knocked on Reed's door.
During the entire trip, I swore I wouldn't cry. Reed answered the door with bedhead, no shirt, low-slung sweatpants, and a sleepy adorable look on his face.
"I need your help and-and I'll sleep with you to get it."
Anger quickly replaced the sleepy look and, for a moment, I thought he would close the door in my face.
"What. The. f**k, Jaycee?"
I started crying. It wasn't soft or delicate, pretty, or feminine. It just poured out. I unzipped the jacket and uncovered Don Gato.
"I don't want him to suffer, bu
