Feral Hearts and Curveballs

The cat had been showing up at Elena's fire escape for three weeks when Mark finally came over for dinner. A mangy tabby with one ear and an attitude, it watched them through the window as Elena poured wine and explained she wasn't ready to let it inside.

"I don't do domestic anymore," she said, slicing spinach salad with surgical precision. "Not after David."

Mark nodded, pretending not to know about David — the finance boyfriend who'd left her for someone more "stable." Mark was still wearing his suit from the office, still carrying the championship baseball his father had given him on his deathbed. His therapist said it was a transitional object. Mark said it was the only thing that mattered.

The Yankees game played softly on television. Mark had played briefly in college before the shoulder injury, before the corporate career that felt like walking through someone else's life. At 38, he understood why people bought sports cars.

"You ever play?" Elena asked, noticing him watching the screen.

"Once," Mark said. "Before I became whoever this is."

She laughed, and it was the most genuine sound he'd heard in months.

Outside, the cat yowled, a sound like tearing metal.

"She's hungry," Elena said, setting down her wine glass. "I keep telling myself animals are just biological machines with fur, but then she looks at me with those eyes and I feel like a monster."

"You feed her, you're stuck with her," Mark said, then immediately regretted it. That was what his mother had said about his father's sickness.

Elena moved to the window, opened it, and whistled. The cat leaped inside, all muscle and wariness, and began eating from the bowl she'd apparently prepared despite her claims.

"Some things you just choose," she said, scratching behind its ears. "Some things choose you."

Mark set his baseball on the table. The cat padded over, sniffed it, and curled up against it like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Her name's Slider," Elena said.

Mark smiled, and for the first time in two years, something in his chest loosened.

"Well then," he said. "Guess I'm staying for extra innings."