“Your contribution is mostly hair.”
Hugo opened one eye.
At home, he changed too.
During the first month, he still sat beside the front door at night.
Less often each week.
Sometimes he startled awake if Tessa carried a suitcase.
The first time she packed for an overnight visit to her sister in Knoxville, Hugo became agitated.
He followed her from room to room.
Then planted himself inside the suitcase.
Tessa understood immediately.
She sat beside him.
“I’m coming back.”
Hugo remained inside.
Tessa called her sister.
“I’m not coming.”
“What happened?”
“My cat has abandonment issues.”
Silence.
Then:
“You have become one of those people.”
“Yes.”
Tessa stayed home.
Months later, she tried again.
This time, a trusted neighbor named Elena stayed with Hugo.
Tessa left Friday.
Returned Saturday afternoon.
When she opened the apartment door, Hugo stood in the hallway.
He stared.
Tessa put down her bag.
“See?”
Hugo walked toward her.
She crouched.
“I came back.”
He pressed his forehead against hers.
After that, suitcases became less frightening.
The red collar eventually wore out.
Tessa replaced it.
She kept the old tag.
18 Fairview Lane remained engraved into the metal.
She considered throwing it away.
Instead, she placed it inside a small wooden box with the adoption papers.
Not because Fairview Lane was Hugo’s home anymore.
Because it had been.
History did not need to be erased for a new life to begin.
Two years after Hugo climbed into the taxi, Tessa drove down Fairview Lane again.
She had no passenger.
No particular reason.
Curiosity, maybe.
Number eighteen had changed.
A new house stood where the rubble had been.
White siding.
Blue shutters.
Small porch.
A young couple was unloading groceries.
Two children rode bicycles in the driveway.
Tessa slowed.
Hugo sat secured in his seat.
His ears moved.
He looked toward the house.
Tessa held her breath.
Would he recognize the place?
The road?
The trees?
The shape of the lot?
Hugo watched for several seconds.
Then turned away.
He looked forward.
Tessa felt tears sting her eyes.
“All right.”
She kept driving.
Home was no longer behind them.
One winter evening, nearly three years after the first ride, Tessa picked up a woman at the airport.
The passenger had a rolling suitcase and looked exhausted.
She opened the rear door.
Then gasped.
“Wait.”
Tessa smiled.
The woman leaned forward.
“Is this the Cat Taxi?”
“That depends.”
“Did someone warn you?”
“My friend came here last year.”
She laughed.
“She told me there was a black cat who rides around judging everybody.”
Tessa looked at Hugo.
“Accurate.”
The woman climbed in.
Hugo turned his golden eyes toward her.
She laughed.
“He’s even better than she described.”
Tessa pulled away from the airport.
Outside, evening settled over the Blue Ridge Mountains.
Traffic moved slowly.