Quinn reached for my hand, and we all leaned forward to study the plans, but before we could do more than give them a cursory examination, the doorbell rang. We exchanged glances.
“Were you expecting someone, Mother?”
“Allison said she and Chance might stop by, but not until later.”
“I’ll get it.” Novotny pushed his chair back, scooped up the kitten, and handed her to Portia. “We don’t want her running out,” he said to no one in particular.
“Has she shown a tendency to play the escape artist?” I asked.
“No, but Gregor has become very protective of her, and he worries that her being away from home for three weeks might have caused her to forget where she lives.”
I looked at Miss Priss, sprawled on her back so Portia could pet her belly, and I was willing to bet the kitten wouldn’t be taking off anytime soon, not even if the door was left wide open.
Novotny was back before we could miss him. “It’s for you, Quinn.” He sounded annoyed.