The man ahead of me put back his bread and peanut butter so he could afford six cans of cat food. Then he turned around.
I knew that face.
“Lucas?”
He froze.
For a second, neither of us said anything.
The last time I had seen Lucas Bennett, he was seventeen years old, standing under stadium lights with a state championship trophy over his head. Half the town knew his name. Teachers loved him. Kids wanted to be him.
Now he was thirty-eight, thinner than I remembered, with a rough beard and a faded jacket that looked a size too big.
“Mrs. Miller,” he said.
He gave me the same crooked smile he used to give when he came into my English class without his homework.
Only this time, there was no confidence behind it.
I looked at the groceries still on the belt.
Six cans of senior cat food.
Two bottles of water.
Nothing else.
“Didn’t you have bread?” I asked.
Lucas glanced toward the cashier.
“Changed my mind.”
I knew he was lying.
Outside, I watched him cross the parking lot toward an old pickup truck.
I probably should have gone home.
Instead, I followed him.
That was when I saw the cat.
An orange-and-white tomcat was curled up on a folded blanket on the passenger seat. He was thin, with one nicked ear and cloudy green eyes.
When Lucas opened the door, the cat tried to stand.
His back legs shook.
Lucas immediately reached in.
“Easy, Barnaby. You don’t have to get up.”
The cat pressed his forehead into Lucas’s hand.
“How old is he?” I asked.
“Sixteen.”
Lucas rubbed behind Barnaby’s ear.
“He has arthritis. Kidney trouble too.”
What happened next changed everything… FULL STORY on the next page.
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