An Accidental Mother. Katherine Anne Kindred

      On our way home we pull into a shopping plaza to pick up pool supplies, and I tell Jim I want to take Michael to the nearby department store. Michael holds my hand during the walk, and I ask if his stomach is feeling any better. He says it is not. I pretend I am there to shop for clothing, but I take him to the back of the store, where there is a very small toy department. I am hoping a new toy will distract him, as the paper dolls did me.

      “Why don’t you look around, pick something out?”

      I am drawn to a row of stuffed animals—all soft, fluffy, adorable, and cuddly. Just looking at them makes me feel better. Michael is still young enough that he adores the stuffed animals he has at home. But I peer around the corner and see him holding a miniature treasure chest.

      “Can I have this?” he asks.

      I look at the tiny trunk and think that he will become bored with it quickly; once he hides something inside it, it will be cast aside.

      “That’s cool,” I reply. I look around at the shelves near him and search for something I think will hold his interest for more than a few minutes. But the toy section is so small that there is little to choose from. I turn back to the stuffed animals. I grab a small but soft and floppy cat. I hold its head between my thumb and forefinger and its paws with my other hand. I step into the aisle, stretch it out toward Michael, and turn its head in his direction. It looks eerily real.

      “Michael, I think this cat wants to come home with you.” I turn the head further and wave at him with one of the cat’s paws.

      Michael smiles.

      I make a little mewling sound and turn the head again. “I think he’s talking to you.”

      Michael puts the treasure chest back on the shelf and reaches for the cat. He takes it out of my hands and pulls it close. “Can I have him?”

      I nod in reply.

      We go to the checkout, pay for the stuffed animal, and walk outside to meet Jim at the car. We all climb inside and buckle up.

      “What’d you get?” Jim asks Michael.

      “Show him,” Michael says and hands me the cat.

      I take the cat, holding its head and paws, and again turn the cat’s head so that it is now looking toward Jim. “It’s Michael’s new cat,” I say, and then I wave at him with a paw. I’m surprised at how alive the little toy appears to be. I turn the head back toward Michael, and he reaches for it with tiny outstretched hands.

      He holds the cat the entire way home.

      Once back at the house, I get Michael ready for bed, helping him to brush his teeth and put on his pajamas. He climbs into bed holding the cat. “I want to sleep with him,” he says. “Will you make it look real again?”

      “Sure, honey.” I tuck him in and then reach for the cat, turning the head to the side as though it is peering at Michael; then I bring it closer to kiss him on the cheek. He giggles and grabs the cat, pulling it under the covers with the head sticking out.

      I lean in and kiss his forehead. “How’s your stomach?” I ask.

      “It’s good.”

      “I’m glad it’s feeling better. I love you, sweetie.”

      “I love you, too.”

      I get up and walk toward the door, reach for the light switch. “Good-night, Michael.”

      “Good-night, Kate.”

      “Good-night, Cat,” I add.

      Michael is suddenly pulling the cat out from under the covers. And then I see the tiny stuffed cat paw waving at me in reply.