Knotted Up

The cable guy was late. Again. Maya glared at the router blinking its meaningless lights while her mom paced the living room, already fifteen minutes into her work-from-home meltdown.

"He said between eight and twelve, it's literally twelve-oh-three," Maya muttered, shoving a handful of vitamin gummies into her mouth. Her mom was on this wellness kick, everything organic and supplemented, but Maya just wanted the old gummy bears back.

Her phone buzzed. Group chat blowing up about Jackson's party tonight, the one she'd been dreading since Jackson's girlfriend had accidentally texted Maya instead of him that weekend. The text was supposed to be flirty. It was definitely not.

The doorbell rang. Finally.

Cable Guy Mike was like, forty, with a beard that had definitely seen better decades. He scratched his head looking at the tangled wires behind the TV.

"Somebody's cat been chewing on these?"

"We don't have a cat," Maya said automatically, then paused. "Wait. Since when?"

Her mom stopped pacing. "The Stray. The one your father's been feeding in the garage because he's lonely and refuses to admit it. I told him it would get inside."

"It chewed through the cable?"

"It chewed through everything. Your father's in there now, trying to coax it out with dog treats. Because apparently that's how we solve problems now."

Maya snorted. Typical. Her parents had been divorced for two years and somehow everything was still a negotiation, even rescue animals.

Mike shook his head. "I can fix it, but it's gonna be extra. That's some serious damage."

Her mom sighed the sigh of someone who'd given up on having a normal Wednesday. "Fine. Whatever. Just fix it. Maya, go help your father before the cat destroys the entire neighborhood infrastructure."

The garage was dim, filled with boxes of stuff neither parent could decide who got to keep. Her dad was crouched in the corner, holding out a dog treat like a peace offering to a small, furious calico backed into a shelf of old board games.

"Hey, kitty," he whispered, then glanced up at Maya. "She's just scared, M. Look at her."

"She ate the cable, Dad. Literally."

"She's confused. Everything changed." He gestured vaguely at the house, the divorce, the dog treats he'd somehow thought would work on a cat. "She just needs to feel safe."

The cat hissed.

Maya's phone buzzed again. Another text about Jackson's party. Her thumb hovered over the screen, thinking about how she'd spent the last three weeks avoiding everyone, convinced her life was over because one accidental text made everything awkward.

"You going?" her dad asked, not looking up from the cat.

"I don't know. It's gonna be weird."

"Everything's weird at sixteen." He finally dropped the dog treat and sat back on his heels. "That's kind of the point. You're supposed to be weird. You're supposed to mess up. Look at me, I'm trying to bribe a cat with dog treats."

Maya laughed, really laughed, for the first time in weeks.

"Fine," she said, typing back. "I'll go. But if it's a disaster, I'm blaming you."

"Deal. Now help me catch this cat before your mom decides we're keeping a dog instead."

Outside, the cable guy's van was finally pulling away. The router blinked steady, connected. Something about the house felt different, like maybe everything didn't have to be perfect to work.

"Hey Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"Next time, maybe just use cat treats."

"Where's the fun in that?"

She didn't answer, just watched him try again, both of them messy and awkward and figuring it out, one treat at a time.