Sweet Jesus, Woman. Stop your blubbering. I’m not dead yet. The old man put his arm around his wife’s shoulders. Molly Margaret Malone, the doctor says I’ve got at least another six months of breathing on this plane. Just a month later, Shawn died. After the funeral, family and friends came to the house. Shawn’s nephew was the last to leave. Patrick hugged her at the door. Looking down he said, Should I let your cat come in? He’s been sitting on the porch ever since we got here. Cat? Molly doesn’t have a cat. She looked down and saw a small, white cat looking up. His big green eyes were all she could comprehend. Yes, let him in.