---
Several weeks later
"Etcetera," Jellylorum said to the younger cat as she passed.
"Yes, Jelly?" Etcetera responded, pausing to face Jellylorum and Jennyanydots.
"Have you spoken to Jemima lately?" the calico asked.
"Yes," she answered, then added, "Well, it has been a couple days since I last saw her. Why do you ask?"
"Jelly believes that Jemi is avoiding us," Jenny explained, obviously not sharing her friend's sentiment.
"I just want to know if there's something bothering and what I can do to help—she's never been this secretive before," Jellylorum told her. It was obvious that she was concerned.
"It's probably just a stage," the gumbie cat tsk-ed.
"I could talk to her for you," Etcetera offered.
"Oh, would you? You're one of her closest friends and I would really appreciate it," Jelly sighed in relief. "Thanks, Cetty."
"No problem," the white and silver queen went off in search of her friend. Jemima's relationship with her aunt Jellylorum was complicated at best. The tri-colored queen's mother had mysteriously disappeared and her father had abandoned her while she was only a few days old. Some whispered that Jelly knew what had really happened to her sister, but the young queen's fate remained unknown. It was Jellylorum who had taken the defenseless kitten under her wing and had raised her as her own. Perhaps that was why she was stricter than any of the other parents in the junkyard.
"Jemima," Etcetera spoke softly, so as not to startle her friend who sat at the top of a junk pile gazing out over a field beyond the wooden fence. She knew she would be here.
"Hi, Cetty," her friend returned softly, her green eyes still directed beyond.
"What's the matter, Jemi? Jelly thinks you're avoiding her and Jenny," she sat down beside the younger queen. "In fact, I haven't seen you for awhile, either."
"We did it," Jemima said emotionlessly.
"What?" Cetty asked, not understanding.
"I couldn't remember what had happened after I left the club that night. Now, I know."
"And . . ?" Etcetera wasn't sure she liked where the conversation was going.
"I'm pregnant." The words were nearly inaudible, but Etcetera didn't need to hear them—the expression on her friend's face told her everything. "Oh, shit, Cetty," Jemi whimpered, borrowing one of Cetty's human phrases, "what am I going to do?"
"Okay," Cetty spoke slowly, despite the frantic pace of her heart. "We'd all gone for a walk—in a group, like we're supposed to—and . . . you got tired and since we were just a little ways from the junkyard, we all thought it'd be safe for you to head back on your own. But before you got all the way, a tom—"
"I'm tired of lying," Jemi interrupted. "I'm going to tell Aunt Jelly and the others what really happened."
"Even the part about the club?" Cetty felt her heart skip a beat.
"I'll say it was a party," the younger cat assured her. "But the rest stays the same . . . . Cetty?"
"Yes?" the vibrant emerald eyes met the mild sea green ones.
"Will you go with me? I'm not sure what my aunt will do when I tell her—I've never . . . and I just can't . . . ."
"I'll go with you," Etcetera wiped a tear from her friend's white cheek. "Heaviside, Jemi—I'm so sorry this happened to you." They made their way towards Jennyanydots' car trunk, where the two older cats had been when Cetty had last encountered them.
"Jemima," Jellylorum spoke in concern when she saw them. "What's the matter? Why have you been crying?"
"Just wait," Jemima quavered, pulling back before her aunt could wrap her in a soothing embrace. "I want you to hear me out before you say or do anything, okay?"
"Good heavens, child! What's the matter?" Jenny exclaimed.
"Both of you," the tri-colored insisted. "Okay?" The two older queens exchanged a look.
"Okay," they agreed somewhat hesitantly.
"A bunch of us went out a few weeks ago and things got a bit out of hand . . . Um, there was some catnip and, and something else and I, uh, well," Jemi squeezed her eyes shut as a sob caught in her throat. "I-I went home with a tom that was there and I, uh, did something I wouldn't usually do . . . ."
"Jemi," Jelly said slowly, "what are you saying."
"Please don't hate me, Aunt Jelly," the younger cat whispered, tears streaming down her face.
"Whatever for?"
"I'm pregnant," Jemima blurted.
"Everlasting cat," Jenny swore, her face paling.
"What?" Jellylorum gasped.
"Don't be mad at Jemi," Etcetera jumped in. "It's my fault—I begged her to come along and then I lost track of her. I thought she'd be safe . . . I'm sorry, Jelly." The calico took a step towards her niece, tears stinging her eyes.
"I took you in," she uttered quietly. "After my sister lost her wits and left you starve to death, I raised you. And now, after all this time—after I worked so hard to raise you right with good morals and a hope for the future—you do this. For the love of Heaviside, Jemi, I'd already found a match for you! You would've been an adult at the next Jellicle Ball, but now . . . ."
"Aunt Jellylorum, just listen, please—" Jemima begged.
"No, Jemima," Jellylorum harshly cut her off. "No. Stay at Etcetera's tonight—or wherever you want, I don't care."
"Aunt Jelly!" Jemi cried as the calico stalked away. The striped and spotted tabby watched after friend in shock before pulling the now sobbing adolescent into her embrace.
"Hush, child," she whispered soothingly, "it's alright—Jenny's here. Shh . . . ." Etcetera stood frozen in place, certain that she had single-handedly cost her friend the only family she had left.
---
"There, now," Jennyanydots said, handing Jemima a cup of chamomile tea. "Feel a little better?" The young queen sat on a cushion in Jenny's den.
"I almost wish I was dead," she sobbed. Etcetera had been sent home.
"Come, now, don't talk like that," Jenny soothed.
"I knew she'd be upset, but I never thought she could get so angry," Jemi whimpered heart-brokenly.
"She's not angry at you," the older queen told her. "She's just disappointed. Jellylorum has never had a family of her own—she's always been too busy taking care of others: first Gus, and then, you. She had so many hopes and dreams for your life, so many joys that she wanted for you—things that she never had for herself. She'll come around, it's just hard to let go when you've been holding on for so long."
"Did my mother really go crazy and leave me to die?" the tri-colored wanted to know.
"I'm afraid so," the gumbie told her.
"Then Aunt Jelly should've let me."
"Listen to me," Jenny demanded, taking Jemima by the chin and making her meet her gaze. "Don't you ever speak that way, do you hear me?" Jemi gave a slight nod and the older cat released her grip.
"What do I do, now?" the young cat asked.
"You take care of yourself, and when the kitten or kittens come, you take care of them to," the elder queen answered, "and you let those who love you help." Jenny pressed the young cat against her bosom.
"Everyone's going to look at me differently now."
"Yes, they will, but those who are important will love you no matter what."
"Thanks, Jenny . . . ." Jemima murmured, her eyelids falling shut.
"I love you, child," Jenny murmured back.
---
Jemima awoke the next morning, her black coat with its white and red markings rumpled from her restless slumber the night before. Sitting up on the pillow, she looked around at her surroundings.
"Aunt Jelly!" the young cat gasped in surprise as she caught sight of Jellylorum sitting in the corner. The calico gave a small smile. She'd been watching the tri-colored as she slept.
"I expected to find you at Cetty's," Jellylorum told her.
"I-I was going to stay there," Jemima stammered, "But Jenny insisted that I stay here."
"So she said," the older queen noted. She rose to her feet and crossed the short distance that separated them. Sitting next to her niece, Jellylorum smoothed a clump of her rumpled head fur. "I . . . I, uh . . . ." she began, looking down as tears filled her eyes.
"Aunt Jelly, please don't cry," Jemima implored.
"I want to apologize for losing my temper with you," Jellylorum told her.
"You don't have to apologize."
"I do. You came to me in need and I shut you out. I'm sorry for that." She folded the younger cat into her embrace.
"Everybody needs you," the tri-colored murmured.
"But I need someone, too," Jellylorum said and Jemima looked at her questioningly. "You are my family, Jemi-dear. You give meaning to my life—I need you."
"So, you don't hate me?"
"No, I could never hate you. I just—I had so many plans for your life. I wanted so much more for you . . . but never mind that now, come home and I'll fix you some breakfast."
"I'd like that," Jemi smiled. The two queens stood and left Jennyanydots' den. It was still early in the day and most of the tribe was still sleeping. Jellylorum had always been an early-riser—a habit that Jemima couldn't help but catch onto. Of course, Jenny was probably out doing something or other. The striped and spotted tabby was always busy. Perhaps that was the reason she and the calico were such close friends—they were both doers.
"So, this tom," Jellylorum started conversationally, "had you met him before?" Jemima bit her lip. She was sure she didn't want to get into this yet.
"No," she shook her head, staring at the ground as they walked along. "No, I'd just met him."
"What's his name?" her aunt persisted kindly.
"Peter," she answered. "He goes by Petey."
"And what's he like?"
"Excuse me?" Jemima looked at her aunt in surprise. "Why do you ask?"
"Well, he must be handsome or have some charm about him," Jellylorum replied. "At least I would assume so."
"He was ginger, with three white paws and a white patch over his left eye," the younger cat told her. "And he was—he was very charming. He said the way my eyes sparkled put the stars to shame . . . . I should've known he was just trying to use me."
"Did you think that you were in love with him?" the calico wanted to know.
"I don't know that I was thinking at all," Jemima quavered. "I should've left, Aunt Jelly. When I found out that there was catnip and some sort of alcohol there, I should've come home, but—I didn't want the others to think I was a goody-two-shoe." She hung her head as they stopped just outside their den.
"Well, perhaps now," Jellylorum spoke, a slight tremor in her tone as she wiped a tear from Jemima's cheek, "Perhaps now being one won't seem like such a bad thing."
"Yeah," Jemima agreed.