Prescription For Love

The orange tabby sat on the highest branch of the maple tree, lazily grooming its paw as if it hadn’t caused absolute chaos for the past twenty minutes.

“Sir,” Mia Harper said, hands on her hips, glaring at the furry menace. “I’m trying to save you. The least you can do is look a little grateful.”

The cat blinked.

A tiny crowd had gathered on the sidewalk.

Mrs. Henderson, the elderly woman who lived next door, twisted her gardening gloves together. “Oh, Pumpkin has never climbed that high before.”

Pumpkin yawned.

Mia looked from the cat to the rickety aluminum ladder leaning against the trunk. She wasn’t exactly thrilled about heights, but she also couldn’t stand seeing Mrs. Henderson on the verge of tears.

“It’ll be fine,” Mia assured her, sounding much more confident than she felt. “I’ve watched enough rescue videos online.”

A teenage boy walking his dog slowed down.

“Those videos usually end with firefighters,” he pointed out.

Mia flashed him a smile. “Negativity doesn’t suit you.”

“It also doesn’t break bones.”

She ignored him.

With one last deep breath, she climbed the ladder.

One step.

Two.

Three.

The old ladder creaked.

“I don’t like that sound,” she muttered.

Mrs. Henderson looked up nervously. “Would you like me to call someone?”

“It’s okay!” Mia called down. “I’m practically a professional.”

Another creak.

“...A very nervous professional.”

The small crowd exchanged doubtful looks.

By the time Mia reached the top, Pumpkin was only an arm’s length away.

“There you are.” She held out both hands carefully. “Come here, sweet little troublemaker.”

Pumpkin stared at her.

Then, with all the confidence in the world...

...he stood up.

Turned around.

And climbed even higher.

Mia’s jaw dropped.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

Someone below snorted.

“You couldn’t have done that five minutes ago?” she called after the cat.

Pumpkin disappeared into another branch.

“So...” the teenage boy shouted. “What’s Plan B?”

Mia looked down.

Big mistake.

The ground suddenly seemed much farther away than she’d remembered.

Her stomach flipped.

“Okay,” she whispered to herself. “Don’t panic.”

The ladder wobbled.

“Oh.”

It wobbled again.

“Oh no.”

The dog on the sidewalk barked.

Mrs. Henderson gasped.

Everything happened at once.

One foot slipped.

Her balance vanished.

Mia made one spectacular attempt to hug the tree.

The tree rejected the hug.

She let out a very undignified squeal as she toppled sideways..

..and landed with a tremendous splash.

Water exploded into the air.

Silence followed.

Mia surfaced in the middle of Mrs. Henderson’s inflatable kiddie pool, dripping from head to toe. A bright yellow rubber duck floated past her shoulder as if checking whether she was still alive.

The teenage boy stared.

“...Ten out of ten.”

“I was aiming for the pool,” Mia replied weakly.

“No, you weren’t.”

“No,” she admitted. “I absolutely wasn’t.”

Mrs. Henderson hurried over.

“Oh my goodness! Are you hurt?”

Mia tried to stand.

The moment she put weight on her right wrist, pain shot up her arm.

She froze.

“...Okay.”

That wasn’t good.

She attempted to smile anyway.

“I think my dignity took the worst of it.”

The crowd laughed.

Even Mrs. Henderson managed a relieved chuckle.

A little girl pointed toward the tree.

“The kitty came down.”

Everyone looked up.

Pumpkin casually strolled down the trunk on his own, landed gracefully on the grass, and rubbed against Mrs. Henderson’s leg as though he’d been waiting for the excitement to end.

Mia stared.

“You...” she said, pointing at the cat with her good hand. “You are banned from my rescue missions.”

Pumpkin purred.

Twenty minutes later, Mia sat in the passenger seat of her best friend Ava’s tiny hatchback, clutching an ice pack against her wrist.

Ava glanced over before pulling out of the driveway.

“Let me guess.”

Mia sighed.

“You saw the neighborhood group chat.”

“There are already three videos.”

Mia covered her face.

“I was trying to help.”

“I know.”

“I didn’t even save the cat.”

“You technically saved yourself.”

“Barely.”

Ava bit back a grin that lasted all of two seconds before she burst into laughter.

“I’m sorry,” she wheezed. “But someone edited dramatic movie music over the video.”

“Oh, that’s cruel.”

“It’s also very funny.”

Mia groaned and leaned her head against the window.

“I’m never leaving my apartment again.”

“You say that every month.”

“This time I mean it.”

Ava pulled into the hospital parking lot and switched off the engine.

“I’ll believe that right after your next adventure.”

Mia frowned.

“There won’t be a next adventure.”

Somewhere in the distance, an ambulance siren echoed toward the emergency entrance.

Neither woman noticed.

Nor did Mia have the slightest idea that before the day was over, she’d meet the man who would quietly turn her upside-down world into something even more unpredictable than an orange cat in a tree.

And unlike Pumpkin...

Dr. Blake Donovan wouldn’t be nearly as easy to escape.