FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

It wasn't just the road that seemed to stretch on forever, so did the silence in the car's cabin. A day full of walking and giving out two rather solid kicks had taken their toll on my knee. It stayed at a dull throbbing while the police statements were given, even the first few miles of the car ride weren't all that bad, but the time spent just sitting still made the joint stiffen up and now it produced a stabbing pain with every flex or jostle. The road between Edison and Burke wasn't in bad shape, but there were a few bumps here and there that sent a shooting pain right up my leg. The only thing good about my knee at this time was that I had something to concentrate on besides how tense Kisa was.

I had tried to to break the silence, once, but as I started to speak the demi shifted her gaze towards me. Her ears nearly disappeared along the sides of her head, the earrings just barely visible past the longer fur of her head, and her crystal blue eyes held all the warmth of glacial ice. It was enough to keep me quiet, so I left the rest of the words unspoken and just looked back out of the passenger window.

As we got closer to Edison, we turned off of the highway a couple of exits early for going back to my house. Hill Creek Road ran in the direction of the factory where Kisa worked, and we stayed on that for about ten minutes. We made a right off of Hill Creek and headed down Davis Lane until we stopped at the slightly dilapidated looking Hillfront Apartments. There were one or two apartment buildings that hadn't shuttered with the lean times, and I realized by the address that this was the one the McAllisters moved into.

Kisa pulled the car into the parking spot with a faded 202-C stenciled in on the cracked pavement. She watched in the rear view as Jenna pulled her headphones off and set the tablet down, “Honey, think you can manage the tablet and the box from the glass studio? It's in the trunk." The tablet had a carrying case with a strap, so toting it and the box would be fairly easy.

“Mmm-Hmm," Jenna didn't add much, I think she could tell just how on edge her mother still was.

Kisa popped open the trunk using a button on the sedan's center console, then held the keys within Jenna's reach, “Here you go, now take those inside, Mr Coach and I will get the rest."

I started to undo my seat belt, but Kisa placed her hand firmly over my forearm. Whatever she had to say would be said in the car, after Jenna was well inside and out of earshot. The younger demi zipped her tablet up in its case then put her arm through the strap. She gave me a concerned glance before she stepped out of the car. Kisa and I watched as she made her way up the stairs with the box in hand, ears downturned with her tail held low and unmoving. She opened the door and stepped through, then shut it softly behind her.

I took a deep breath fully intent on pleading my case, whatever the charge may be.

At first Kisa didn't say anything, nor did she remove her hand. I wasn't sure if she was trying to calm herself down or just get her thoughts collected, but the longer she stayed silent the more ways I thought the conversation could go bad. “Look, Kisa, I..."

Her head snapped in my direction, the earrings waved with the sudden motion before the tips of her ears disappeared under the longer fur as she cut me off, “Just… Listen. There is a part of me, a large part, that's angry right now." She took her hand away and placed it back on the wheel as she continued, “With them for starting it, with the idiot that took that picture and posted it online in the first place, and then you for putting yourself at risk. What if either of them had a weapon? What if the people watching were part of their little group?"

I shook my head, “Honestly, it wouldn't change anything." She gave me a look that managed to combine angry, worried, and sad all in one. “I'm not saying that lightly. There's two main reasons for what I did and a whole list of smaller things. I'll let you argue the first, but I'm not budging on the last one, even if it's playing dirty."

“Oh," she seemed to rise at my challenge. I was walking a tightrope that'd either land me in trouble or see me safely across, “Mr Kerrington, this isn't the soccer field, and in my own car, I decide what I'll argue and what I won't."

Ugh, me and my poor choice of words, “Alright, then. First, if at all possible, you shouldn't fight a average human anywhere that it could be taped or otherwise. We both know how the media can spin things, and we don't know which way until the story comes out. Defending themselves or mauling someone," I balanced the options between my two hands as if they were on a scale. “With the second one, it doesn't matter what they say after that."

There was a bit of a huff embedded in her reply, “It wouldn't be the first time, nor the last, that a demi was presented as an animal, it seems to come with the fur. And as a counter point, I'd rather they be the ones to get mauled than you, even if it means a bit of bad press."

“Alright, see, point taken, that one's open to debate. Though the same could be said of you, I wouldn't want to see you hurt either."

Kisa's eyes went wide, “What, them hurt me? Are you serious?" Her fur was starting to puff out again and I silently cursed by inability to just shut up about things every once in a while, “Todd, remember what I said, about us, about demis?"

“Going beyond the fur and tails, yeah I do. And I did then too," Now I just needed to figure out how to not ram my foot in my mouth again, “And remember what I said, I know you can take care of yourself, hell, I think we would've needed to call an ambulance for those idiots if they tried something with you, or managed to get me down for that matter." I dropped my hands back into my lap, “But that's my point, Kisa. There would have been footage of you ripping those guys a new one, or two, and that's what would've looped on news channels everywhere with a disclaimer of what you are about to see contains graphic violence." After the faux announcer voice I trudged on, “The only way that ends differently is if one of them had a gun, and in that case, both you or I could just as easily be hurt."

Kisa kept her eyes on me throughout my explanation but she shook her head at the end, “It's not just that, Todd. By the time I was Jenna's age, I…" She stopped herself short and let out an exasperated sigh, “Alright, I understand what you're saying, but you don't need to put yourself in that situation, so don't." She looked away from me through the windshield at something beyond, “I let it happen today, and I'm still mad at myself for that, but I wasn't going to have us arguing in front of them. I figured I could step in before it got out of hand, and thankfully I didn't have to." She took a deep breath, forcing her fur to lay flat.

“Alright, but there's one other reason, Kisa. She went walking up to your apartment just now," I pointed up to the door that Jenna just went through. “I'm her coach, but you're her mom. Something happens to me, I get hurt, whatever, it's pretty much just me. Something happens to you, and who does she have then?" Kisa's eyes narrowed to icy blue slits glaring at me. Yes, it was playing dirty, I knew it and said as much at the start. “At the end of the day, what's important is that she's safe, that she has who and what she needs. That's you." I folded my arms across my chest, and shook my head. Unable to meet her gaze, I looked out of my own window, “We wouldn't even be having this conversation if people weren't such..." My words stopped there, as my own exasperated sigh ended my statement.

“If some people weren't such bigots, Todd, and if one person in particular wasn't trying to make up for all of them that are." I got a furry elbow in the side, not hard, but enough to let me know she'd forgiven me even if it was still a sore subject. “Come on, we need to get that knee of yours iced down, and I believe I have some ibuprofen." To place a final emphasis on her point, she just barely tapped my knee with her claw tip.

It was slightly swollen, and the motion of my reflex action sent daggers into the joint. I practically hissed with a sharp intake of breath and responded through clenched teeth, “Alright, deserved that one."

“I'll get the Target bags. You worry about managing the stairs." She shot me a semi-playful grin. At least she wasn't upset anymore, or at least visibly so. The idiots might have managed to mess up the end of our trip, but the one paid for it with two good shots from my foot and both shared a host of legal troubles. I had a sore knee and was hoping for a better connection with Kisa. Well worth it for me, but Kisa and Jenna also paid a price in this too, the knowledge that their safety from idiots like that didn't extend very far. Word would spread around Edison about her helping out George and Bess, that'd go far in making sure she didn't catch any flak and it wouldn't take long. Beyond Edison, you're dealing with a much larger population. Most people would be nice, some would be curious, and some rotten bastards would come crawling out too.

I stopped thinking about unchangeable things and shifted my legs out of the door. With a bit of a grunt I stood up using only my good leg. Any pressure on the bad knee was instantly rewarded, and just moving the joint produced a strong throbbing ache.Without the ability to put any weight on the one side, well, it made the stairs a mountain of fun. A quick hopping step to get the good leg up, followed by a slow pulling of the bad side up to the same step and positioning my hand on the rail for the next go. Rinse and repeat. Eventually I made it to the landing of the second floor. By then I could at least move the knee without quite as much pain, it loosened up a bit with the trek, but there wasn't going to be any normal walking for a while. Kisa had followed my slow uneven march up the stairs without comment. I think she was worried about me falling, but I had a death grip on the rail for each step up.

“Well, go on in Mr Coach. I think Jenna will be glad to see you, and still in one piece. Well, mostly anyway." I glanced back to see her whiskers pulled back and canines flashing in a mischievous smile. I think she was concerned about my knee along with the rest of the mess from earlier but this was her way of covering for it.

“Alright, laugh it up," I was trying not to chuckle as I opened the door and stepped through.

The outside of the building may have been a bit rundown, but the inside was fairly decent. It was the standard off-white apartment color and seemed fairly spacious. The living room sat to the right of the door and to the left a small dining space with the kitchen just beyond it. A wood laminate topped counter divided the two areas and there were a few nick nacks and pictures on display there.

The main hallway was just about even with the front door and ran back into the apartment. Two bedrooms were off to the right while the bathroom, closet, and utility room were on the left side of the hall. Most of the floors were carpeted in a neutral beige plush, save the kitchen and bathroom. It didn't look new by any stretch, but it did look recently cleaned, probably done by the maintenance man with a Rug Doctor and several hours of work. There were a few boxes stacked in the dining space, but like Kisa said earlier, the apartment was still mostly empty with the exception of a few essentials in the living room and elsewhere.

Jenna's head poked around from the closest of the bedroom doors, “Mama, I..." She looked up, saw me, and froze mid sentence. “Mr Coach?"

Kisa stepped through the doorway holding the majority of the Target bags. There was still the dish set and large pack of paper towels back in the car. “Yes, honey, Mr Coach will be having dinner with us. But his knee is sore, so let him sit down at least." She sat the bags down near the stack of boxes then motioned toward the couch in the living room. It was a darker beige than the carpet, big enough to seat three, and was placed a few feet away from the wall.It was also the only seating in the room, but that normally wouldn't matter since there were only two staying in the apartment so it afforded plenty of space. There was a glass topped coffee table in front of the couch and a mid sized flat panel television mounted on the wall beyond it.

I hobbled over to the couch and sat on the far end of it, stretching my left leg out to the side and clear of the table. “Thanks, Kisa." I'm sure there was more than a little hint of relief in my voice as I sank into the cushions.

Kisa made her way back to the door, “I'll be right back with the paper towels. Jenna, get Mr Coach a water and the ibuprofen, please."

“OK," Jenna headed off to the refrigerator as Kisa stepped back outside. She pulled out a bottled water from the fridge, then opened a drawer under the kitchen counter. “Hmm," I could hear the contents being shuffled around, “Here it is." She came over to the couch with the water and medicine bottle, offering both to me. “Is Mama still mad?" Her ears were back slightly with worry.

“No, well not really anyway." I lined up the arrows on the cap and popped the top off the medicine bottle. Two at the start, and in a half an hour, two more. “Thanks. It'll be better in a bit," I said after swallowing a couple of the tablets down with a bit of water. “You doing OK, kiddo?"

“Mmm-Hmm," her voice was shaking a bit, and in that moment I thought I should have waited a tad longer before asking. She'd been quiet, nearly stoic, ever since she headed off with the cart back to the car. In front of the police and security, around the other bystanders, even on the ride home she'd held herself together. And all it took to break that wall was me asking if she was alright and her having to look inside. It started with stuttering breaths, then her ears went back fully and the tears welled up. Before I could say anything or think of anything to do, I had a bundle of wailing emotions thrown against me.

“Shhhh, it's alright," I managed to say, though it was somewhat muffled as she pressed her head up under my chin, crying into my chest and neck. I had no idea what to do other than just let her get it all out. I think all of us have a bottle where we can store up things like this and under normal circumstances we empty it out from time to time, not really letting the pressure build. Jenna had just crammed the entire day inside and capped it off tightly, but now the seal was broken.

I didn't deal with those sorts of situations well back then, and honestly I still don't. It's something that works against my nature to solve the problem, find the solution. The reality is you can't. There's no solution, there's no fixing it, no making it better. All you can do is wait until the torrent ends and see where things settle. Until then, you're a safe point, an anchor to hold onto during the emotional flood so they're not trying to stand against it alone. And so I sat there, the so-called “gimpy" anchor, one leg stretched out awkwardly to the side, one arm curled around the child protectively while the other hand stroked the longer fur between her ears in an attempt to comfort her.

I'm not sure when Kisa got back from the car, and I didn't know how much time had passed before the worst of the crying was over. What I did know was that I had a very wet shirt, Jenna had a fair amount of snuffles as she sat piled up against me, and Kisa had tapped my shoulder with a box of tissues which I took with gratitude.

I managed to snag a couple of tissues out of the box without disturbing Jenna's position too much. “Alright, now," I gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. When she looked up, I handed the tissues over.

Jenna blinked a few times, rubbing her eyes to clear away the left over tears, “Thank you." She leaned back a bit and gave a solid blow, her ears folded back and eyes scrunched shut with the effort. A few more sniffs and some wiping with the cleaner areas of the tissues finished things off.

My shoulder was tapped again. This time Kisa handed me a small waste bin already fitted with a bag. I held it over to within easy reach and Jenna stuffed the balled up wad inside. Afterwards, I set the bin down beside the couch then sat back and shifted my leg to a slightly more comfortable position. Once I was done moving, Jenna snuggled up under my arm, occasionally making a random sniffle or two, but otherwise content to just stay there.

There were all manner of things running through my mind. How do you explain bigotry to a nine year old? How did Kisa cope with these things, and what had she already said to Jenna about circumstances like this? Whatever I said, did, or otherwise wouldn't change the fact that she'd be dealing with intolerant fools from time to time. I think the worst part was that I couldn't shield her or Kisa from them, not really anyway. I could stand up and speak out if I saw it going on, sure, but there'd be times when I wasn't there, what then?

I looked down, just watching Jenna as she sat there curled up safe and sound. Here she could let herself go and when the time came, dust herself off and pick herself back up. That's what I could do, just be there, for the both of them when needed. I was a bit surprised to find that her breathing was a steady, slow cadence and a slight raspy rumble was on the trailing edge of each breath. I wasn't sure if she was fully asleep, but after everything, it wouldn't have surprised me.

I was pulled from my thoughts when Kisa put her hands on my shoulders. She'd moved behind the couch, her bare feet making absolutely no noise on the carpet, and I did my best not jump. I at least held myself back to just a slight twitch. “I'll get started on dinner. I trust beef is alright?"

I tilted my head back, just enough so I could see her looking at me. She had a much softer expression, and the warmth in her eyes that I had seen earlier in the day was back. It took me a second to stop staring at the serenity standing just above and answer the question, “Yeah, that's fine."

She returned my gaze and eventually gave my shoulders a quick rub, “Alright, Mr Coach." With that she headed off to the kitchen, humming softly to herself.

* * *

A gentle nudge on my arm brought me out of my unscheduled nap. I blinked a couple of times and tried in vain to contain a rather wide yawn. I must have fallen asleep shortly after Kisa asked about dinner. The apartment was quiet, save for Kisa's humming and the sounds coming from the kitchen, so the rhythmic purr and cozy warmth from the little feline demi huddled up against my side made me an easy target for the sandman.

Kisa had set two blue plastic plates on the coffee table along with two bottled waters, “Dinner's ready, you two." I felt Jenna stir from where she had dozed off, pushing herself up and stretching in a manner that melded human and feline mannerisms with undeniably cute results.

Eventually, the scent coming from the plates caught my attention and my stomach made its feeling on the matter known with an eager growl. It was an Asian inspired dish, or at least it had a fair amount of flavors from the region. The cuts seemed similar to beef tips, but cooked with a brown sauce that smelled of ginger, garlic, soy sauce, maybe a hint of brown sugar and a liberal amount of other spices. It reminded me somewhat of teriyaki, but having a bit more savory components. The beef was served over a bed of rice with diced carrots, green onions, water chestnuts, snow peas, and several colors of bell peppers.

I sat up a bit straighter on the couch and managed to get my leg into a proper sitting position without it complaining too much. The ibuprofen had started working, so bending it was a little easier even after the stillness of a nap. “Jenna, make sure you wash your hands," Kisa's reminder sent her daughter off to the bathroom. I would've just had at the plate if she hadn't said anything, but being an adult, I got up, winced a bit at the remaining stiffness in my knee, and headed to the kitchen sink to wash up.

As I made my way back to the far end of the couch, Kisa was just sitting down with her own plate and Jenna was getting seated back in the middle. I got situated in my spot and glanced across at Kisa before taking my food, “Thanks, this smells great." After the first forkful I couldn't help but let a small 'wow' escape as I took in the flavors. The beef was pan seared with a light seasoning and the sauce had been added afterwards. I happen to like my beef rare, so it fit in perfectly with my tastes. It was tender, flavorful, and accented nicely by the sauce. It'd been quite some time since I'd had something prepared as nicely.

I heard Kisa chuckle slightly. I think she had been watching me, waiting for my reaction to her prowess. “Like it, do you?"

“Uh, yeah. Very much actually." While my reaction said it all, it never hurt to reiterate the appreciation of a great meal. “Jenna, how about you?"

Jenna nodded. Having finished her own first bite, she was in the middle of eating the next so answering verbally wasn't an option.

“Well, that's two for two as far as the reviewers go. Really though, it's great," I added just before taking another bite myself.

“Well, thank you both then," Kisa grinned at the complements before turning her attention to her own plate.

We ate with fairly little in the way of conversation, I think we were all just glad to relax and enjoy dinner without having to think of much else. About mid way through the meal, Jenna turned the TV on. It was tuned to the public television kid's channel. I don't think anyone really paid much attention to whatever show was playing, but it provided a bit of background noise as we ate.

After my last bite I took my plate to the kitchen, still with a considerable limp, so I fished out the medicine bottle from the drawer and grabbed two more ibuprofen. As I came back, I saw that Kisa had finished and Jenna had only a bit of rice left on her plate but she had stopped eating and was watching the cartoon in earnest. I downed the Advil with the last of my water. “I'll take those, if you're done." I pointed at the mostly empty plates.

Kisa was already standing up and snagged the two plates as she did so, “I'll get them, but if you want, I'd appreciate the company in the kitchen."

“Sure thing." I had to move my leg a bit to keep the joint from stiffening up again, even with the medicine, so I hobbled towards the kitchen. The apartment had most of the usual amenities, including a built in dishwasher, which meant the cleanup wouldn't be all that hard. I nodded toward the older Whirlpool unit, “You rinse and I'll get the stuff put in?"

Kisa had placed the dishes in the sink and was pulling a couple of lidded bowls from one of the upper cabinets as she answered, “Well, I wasn't going to put you to work, but I won't say no to the help. Let me take care of this first." In short order she stored the left over rice and veggies in one of the bowls and the beef in the other, then turned and held them out to me. “If you'd put these away, I'll get started."

I took the bowls and found a place for them in the fridge, which was remarkably clutter free and well organized. My own refrigerator was a mess by comparison, but I figured I was at least one step ahead of the average bachelor in that I cleaned it out every other week. I turned back to see Kisa had already rinsed a saucepan which she handed my way before moving onto the next dish. The rinsed pan went face down in the top rack of the dishwasher, then I waited for the next piece.

The cleaning went by quickly, and while I loaded the dishwasher I had a chance to take in more details of the kitchen. A small basket with clean dish rags and towels sat on the counter between the sink and the fridge. The bar between the dining room and kitchen space had a tray were Kisa stored her keys and other loose pocket items. Beside the tray were a few trinkets along with pictures in simple metal frames. One of them was Jenna standing outside of the Atlanta stadium, beaming at the camera in the team jersey she wore during the camp sessions. There were a couple of photos with the two of them, one which I think was taken in front of the Atlanta aquarium, but I couldn't place the background of the second. The last picture was of Kisa in a blue flower print shirt with matching shorts and another feline demi with light, almost blond colored fur and black spots. He was holding who I assumed was a toddler aged Jenna.

Kisa just finished drying her hands off with a dish towel, a task that took a few minutes because of her fur, when she noticed where I was looking. For a moment, there was a flash of sadness across her features as she focused on the picture. She took a short breath as if steadying herself, “That, Todd, is Jenna's father, Mika."

I looked back at her, but wasn't sure exactly where to take the conversation, or what was safe to ask given her reaction back in the car. “Cheetah?" Most of the first generation demis were based around a specific type of feline or canine. I assumed Kisa, and by extension Jenna, was patterned after snow leopards.

Kisa nodded, “Yes, but as you can see, the human blonde genes weren't replaced by the normal cat colors."

“Except for the black spots and facial patterns. Honestly, it's a pretty striking combination." The demi in the picture stared ahead with a mix of warmth and intensity that was accentuated by the uniquely colored fur. “I may be out of place in asking, but did something happen?"

Kisa's ears went back slightly, “We lost him six years ago. It was during one of the rallies, but not from violence," she tapped her chest, “his heart." She looped the towel over the stove handle and stepped over to the picture, “It's a genetic condition unique in demis to us felines. We know more about it now, there's even tests for it, and they can mostly correct it if it's caught early enough. At his age though, he would have needed a full heart transplant."

My eyes shot towards Jenna, if it was hereditary…

“Oh, she's fine, Todd." Kisa watched my reaction and figured out my worry, “She's been tested against everything we know about, I have too for that matter. It turns out that as we have children, the genes sort of even out the flaws in the scientists' work. Nature finding a way I suppose."

My next concern was for the woman standing in front of me, “What about you?"

Kisa gave me a slight smile, the tips of her canines just showing, “Well, I'm not in any danger if that's what you're worried about. There are a few things, I'll probably be prone to a bit of arthritis, and I have to watch my sugar intake carefully or else I'll need to go on medications. No more than your average human issues though."

I couldn't hide the look of relief even if I wanted to, “I see."

Kisa shifted her gaze to where her daughter was still huddled up on the couch, “We found out about a year after Jenna was born. Mika had an office job, like me he was trained for things useful in the outside world." She turned back to the picture and traced her hand over his image, “But after we got the news, he immersed himself in the politics surrounding demis. I think he knew his time was short, and with what he had left, he worked to make the world better for her. For all of us really."

I haven't lost a close family member yet, at least not since I was old enough to really know about it. My grandmother on my mom's side passed away when I was only four, the rest of my close relatives are all still healthy, a fact I'm grateful for each day. I couldn't imagine losing someone that close to me, and as I thought about it back then, I was amazed by the strength Kisa had, and her late husband as well. “I would have liked to meet him. I can only guess as to what that was like, but I think it takes a lot of courage and heart to face that head on. From both of you."

“I think you two would have gotten along, he's the reason she's so into Atlanta United after all." Kisa padded over to the fridge and pulled out another two waters. “Mika had his moments, but before we knew anything about his condition he wasn't assertive unless it was something he really felt strongly about." She held one of the bottles to me before continuing, “It's a kind of quiet strength, you know it's there when you need it, but never overbearing."

“Huh, not too many easy going soccer fans." I took a swig from the water, pondering how would I react in that situation. You hear stories of people who know their time is coming so they just go wild, do the things they've always wanted consequences be damned. Then there's people like Mika, people that throw themselves completely into what they feel is important. I think I'd keep helping out like I do now. Coach the kids and maybe complete some longer term projects for the schools. I've never been one for grand designs, I like to do things on a smaller scale and just be one of the folks on the ground helping out.

Kisa smiled at the quip, “I did say unless it was something he felt strongly about, didn't I?" After she gave my arm a nudge she continued, “We took Jenna to all the home games we could get to, it was our family activity." She took another sip of water and carried the motion through to point at Jenna's solo picture, “The one in front of the stadium was taken at the last game her and I went to. We kept that tradition going as long as we could, but the same as with you, things change. I got this job, so we moved, but I did get the sports package so we can at least watch the games."

I nodded, “Ture, and there's something to be said for being able to avoid the stadium food." I spread my hands wide giving what I figured was a fair approximation of a pushy salesman, “The AC is a nice perk too."

Her small chuckle at the joke soon faded, “I can still remember him in the stands, cheering on his team with Jenna held on his shoulders. She didn't have the chance to be with her father beyond her early years, but I've tried to make sure she knows about him, what kind of a man he was." Kisa took a deep breath with a quick exhale which I took as a sign she wanted to lighten the tone of the conversation, “But like I said, you two would have gotten along fine." Kisa stared at my shirt for a moment, “With dinner I hadn't really noticed… Wait there." She quickly made her way toward the back bedroom only to return moments later holding a black tee shirt, “Here, go change."

“Huh?" I looked down at the front of my shirt. It had dried, and I hadn't paid much attention, but the front was a bit of a mess and slightly stiff in places, the remnants of Jenna's emotional dam breaking. “Oh, sure."

I made my way to the bathroom and shut the door. I pulled my polo off, glanced in the mirror to make sure that I didn't have anything caught in my teeth, then gave my face and hands a quick wash. After a brief dry on a hand towel, the black shirt was slipped on and I was mostly presentable again.It was slightly tight, not to the point of constricting, maybe a size smaller than what I usually wore.

I stepped out of the bathroom, polo in hand, only to have it taken as Kisa made her way to the utility room, “I'll just put this through a quick cycle. I have a few small things to wash anyway, it should only be about an hour."

Before I could object she rounded the corner into the utility room. I followed after, albeit at a much slower and uneven pace, fully intent on just washing my shirt at home, “Look, you don't have to go through any trouble." My shirt was already in the washer and the contents of a small hamper were disappearing into the tub as well.

Kisa stood in front of the machine, it was one of the space saver units with the washer on the bottom and a built in dryer on top. Her ears were slightly back as the turned the knob to the quick wash cycle then added in a scoop of detergent while the machine started to hum. “If someone told me that Jenna would trust anyone like this, let alone after only a week, and most of all a normal human... I would have called them crazy." Due in part to her lowered voice, I realized that she didn't want Jenna involved in the conversation and my shirt provided enough of an excuse to have us back here. “But here we are, and she does." Kisa had both hands on the washer, watching the water fill. “And even more surprising, I think I do too."

I stood in the doorway, my brain going a mile a minute and getting nowhere.

Kisa kept her focus on the inside of the washer but one of her ears was turned toward the doorway, probably listening for Jenna. “On Tuesday, I spoke with Bess over the phone. We had a long talk, not all of it about you, but a fair amount. I had my own opinions, but I wanted to know what she thought, since her children went through your program. From what everyone said, she's known you the longest."

It wasn't surprising, if I had a child, I'd want to know about who was watching over them too. I half smiled and half grimaced at the thought of Bess talking freely about me, “I just hope she kept the embarrassing stories down to a minimum."

Kisa finally grinned at that and lifted her gaze towards me, “Oh, she assures me that there's plenty of those. But, no, I wanted her to tell me what she thought of you, both on and off the field." She shut the lid of the washer and turned fully in my direction, “What she said matched with my feelings already, and even more so after today."

I tried to wave off what I thought was an undeserved compliment, “But I really..."

“Didn't do much?" She read my thoughts to the word, “Or maybe something like you didn't do more than any decent person would have?" Kisa closed her eyes and shook her head, “No, but listen to me. I can't tell you how many times I've had to tell people to not rub her chin, or mess with her ears, or any other number of things you'd do with a pet but never think about doing to a person, only to have them look at me like I'm the one being rude."

Kisa stepped forward with that focused, unreadable expression, “But since the first day, you've tried to meet her on her terms, or rather meet us on terms we all respect. You've been considerate and kind, if just a bit awkward." She smiled again, but her eyes held their intensity, “But that's part of who you are too, and it's endearing in its own way. As for what happened today," a slight growling undertone added itself to her words, “I still don't want you placing yourself in front of individuals like that again, and if experience is anything to go by, there will be a next time."The growl was partially a warning to me as well as her own anger with the situation, but it faded as she continued, “But I do appreciate your consideration for us all the same, even if I disagree with the actions."

Kisa took one more step forward and placed her hand against my cheek. The last time someone had done that had been years ago, Allison telling me not to worry, that she'd be there every step of the way on my path to recovery. A part of me was locked in that past, worried about it being echoed in the future. Another part of me was certain Kisa wouldn't be like that, she'd been through far worse with Mika's situation and had stayed right there until his death. Then there was one more, a rather loud part of me that wanted to focus on the situation at hand and it demanded that the others just shut the hell up and worry about it later. The alternating textures of her pads and the short soft fur that covered everything in between felt mesmerizing. I couldn't help but stare into the crystal blue pools of her eyes as she slid her hand down my cheek before taking it away.

Somewhere in my brain, I was chanting a mantra of 'Let her make the first move' over and over. I had my own emotional baggage, but that was a matter for me alone to overcome. Kisa had more than just her own feelings to consider, she also had to take Jenna's into account. Trusting me as a coach, maybe a sounding board in rather rough circumstances, was one thing. More than that and I wasn't sure either of them were really ready. At the very least, I wanted to make sure they had a chance to talk things over, and I wanted to make damned sure I wasn't reading more into her actions than was really there.

Kisa's voice broke through the silence of my inner thoughts, “Anyway, Mr Coach, I don't have time to make dessert from scratch, but I do have a cherry pie in the freezer." She nodded slightly back toward the door, “It'd be a way to pass the laundry time, and there's a movie Jenna wanted to see which is finally available for streaming." Her ability to come to my rescue in the aforementioned awkward moments was remarkable.

“You know, I do happen to like cherry pie, very much so, and the company would make it all the better." Kisa broke into a wide grin at my admittedly none too subtle line. I may not have been sure of her intentions, and yes, I move at a glacial pace myself, but I figured I might as well let her know I was interested if she was.

* * *

The evening went on with the three of us piled on the couch, Jenna in the middle. The movie was a cgi family action / comedy flick, set in a medieval fantasy world with decent voice actors supporting the animation. It was entertaining enough, but for the most part I remember the way that everything just felt natural, like it was the perfect way for the three of us to spend an evening.

About mid way through the film the pie was ready. Mrs Smith was an ever consistent pie maker, and Kisa pulled it at just the right time. The crust was perfectly baked, the filling wasn't too sweet, and once a bit of the store brand spray whipped cream was added, the whole thing was about as good as you could get, except for something made by hand. When I asked her about it, I learned yet another thing. A demi's heightened sense of smell gives them a much finer view into what goes on in the oven. Pulling the pie was just a matter of smelling when it was ready. She had already run a couple of test things through the oven and her nose helped to identify that the thing ran hot, about fifteen degrees over the set temperature when she tested it with an oven thermometer.

By the end of the movie, we had all laughed and cheered away most of the stress of the day, and the perfect dessert banished whatever was left. Jenna had perked up, returning back to her normally energetic self, and as children that age do, she overreacted to just about everything on screen. Kisa enjoyed Jenna's actions about as much as what was actually happening in the movie, we exchanged several amused grins at the antics, both on and off screen. Sometime during the film, Kisa had run my shirt through the drier, so by the time we finished getting the dessert dishes rinsed, I had a fully cleaned and fresh smelling polo waiting for me.

The beginning of the drive back to my house was full of discussions about the movie. Jenna talked about what parts she liked the best and afterwards we mulled over what kind of room there was for a sequel. As we pulled onto the gravel road, I stole a glace at the back seat. The conversation had slowed down as the drive wore on and Jenna was half asleep, her head bobbing slightly with the motion of the vehicle. “Been a long day, for all of us it seems."

Kisa traced my line of sight and nodded, “It has. But on the whole, I think a good one."

I answered with a soft chuckle, “True, and thanks for the day out, dinner, and well everything."

“You're welcome, Mr Coach," Kisa patted my hand lightly, “And thank you too."

As we pulled to a stop in front of the driveway that leads to my house, I thought about what the next day would bring. Kisa would need to get ready for the work week, and I still had the wiring to run upstairs so long as I could get my knee to settle down enough. I had a rough idea of what I wanted to work on for the next week of soccer practice, but the following weekend was pretty much free, apart from more upstairs work.

“You two have a great evening," I said as we shared the improved demi handshake. I called it that in my mind since I wasn't sure if the gesture even had a formal name. We stayed still for a couple of seconds, our hands held briefly before I resigned myself to head back to my all too quiet house. I stepped out of the car, with a bit of a grunt at the protest from my knee, and shut the door. My eyes roamed across the corn fields, in the dim starlight I was just able to see the silhouette of my roof. The farm has a stream that runs through it, all sorts of different crop fields, and even some wooded areas. All perfect places for exploring, and there'd be no chances of running into the type of problems that happened earlier in the day.

I tapped on the window to get Kisa's attention as the idea took shape. She lowered the passenger side window, “Is everything alright?" There was a bit of concern in her voice.

I nodded then bent down just a bit to make talking through the window easier. “Just a quick thing." Now that I was getting ready to ask her for even more of her time I was slightly nervous, “If you're free Friday after practice, and feel free to say no since I'm not sure if you're up for the outdoors sort of thing, there's a lot of land here, all kinds of places to see, and as far as I know the weather's supposed to be nice… I'm rambling aren't I?" Kisa nodded, but she had a slight grin all the same. “Anyway, I've got camping gear, tents, sleeping bags, the whole nine yards. I think it'd be fun at least, to make an evening of it and explore around a bit in the morning too."

Kisa looked back in the rear view mirror for a moment, “You know, we've never actually been camping. It's just not something we've really had the chance to do. I can't promise anything, but I'll see what Jenna thinks in the morning. I assume shorts and tee shirts, that sort of thing?"

I hadn't thought about clothing needs, but for the little bit of stuff around the farm, that sounded fine. “Yeah denim or khaki shorts.Shoes would be a good idea too, mostly because of the woods. There's not much that's dangerous around here, the worst I've seen is a copperhead near the stream and I've got a kit just in case."

Kisa tapped her finger on the steering wheel, “Alright, so long as your uncle doesn't mind us trekking around his property."

“I was planning on asking him in the morning, but he's only got watering and the usual maintenance things on his schedule, nothing we'd interfere with." I was actually thinking about introducing them to James and Ann at some point anyway. My uncle and aunt both were curious when I'd told them about the new arrivals at the soccer camp.

“Well, it does sound like fun, to me at least. We'll let you know at practice on Monday. Now then, I have to get her home and you need to get off that knee of yours." She gave me a warm smile and a little wave, “Have a good night, Todd."

I gave a small wave back, “You too."