Chapter Twelve
WHEN SHE WOKE UP LATER, it was to the sound of thunder cracking overhead. Myrtle groaned. Apparently, the weather hadn’t gotten the memo that they were going to be out and about a lot today.
Wanda was still sleeping, so Myrtle tried to be quiet as she got ready. She pulled out her big umbrella to get the paper at the end of her driveway since it was now raining buckets. Lightning flashed overhead as she returned with the paper and she jumped as something brushed against her leg.
“Pasha! Oh, poor baby. Here, come inside.”
Pasha eagerly followed her in. Pasha, as a feral cat, was accustomed to all sorts of weather, but this was some of the worst. At least the cat was good about letting Myrtle know when she wanted to be indoors for a while.
Myrtle dug out an old towel and
