Читать книгу The Lost Cats and Lonely Hearts Club: A heartwarming, laugh-out-loud romantic comedy - not just for cat lovers! - Nic Tatano - Страница 10

It’s Friday night and I’m waiting for Kelly so I can go out and have a drink with my friends.

I need their input on this very difficult decision I have to make. Actually, the most difficult career decision I’ve ever made.

The doorbell rings as I’m staring at the ball of fur asleep in the box. When I get up and open the door I don’t find my cat sitter, but my next door neighbor the veterinarian. “Hi Jeff, I didn’t know you were back. How was your vacation?”

“Wonderful. How was the Hamptons? I hear it’s spectacular.”

“Didn’t go. Long story. I don’t wanna tell it and trust me, you don’t wanna hear it.”

“Oh. Anyway, I just got back and I thought I’d see where the kittens ended up. So, since you didn’t take them with you on your trip did you find a shelter to take them?”

“Nope. They’re still here. I never bothered to look for a shelter. C’mon in and check ‘em out.”

He moves inside, crouches down next to the box and starts to examine the kittens. “They look very well fed. And clean. You’re doing a really good job with them. I’m impressed. If you ever want a job as my assistant, let me know.”

“I cannot take all the credit. Rory runs kitten day care for me while I’m at work.”

“Now that’s a true friend.” He reaches into the box and pulls out a kitten. “Let me give them a quick check. This one looks good.” He picks up each one and nods. “They look fine, Madison. Bring ‘em by the clinic next week and I’ll give them a thorough exam. No charge.”

“That would be nice. Thank you.”

He stands up and smiles. “I must say, I never expected this from you.”

“I never expected this from me either. But I got attached to them really quick.”

“And they can get attached to you. When you get kittens that young, they can imprint on you.”

“Huh?”

“Imprinting. That means they think you’re their mother.”

I stir my drink, not really looking at it but deep in thought.

Presidential campaign.

Leaving kittens who think I’m their mother. Would it break their little hearts?

Don’t answer that.

“Earth to Madison …”

I look up and see my three friends staring at me. “I’m sorry. I’ve never been in a position where I have absolutely no idea what to do. It’s the assignment every reporter dreams about, and it should be a no-brainer. But … damn, I just don’t know.”

Rory reaches over and pats my hand. “Whatever you decide, we’ll support you. You know that.”

A.J. sips her drink. “You leanin’ one way or the other?”

“It changes every five minutes. Of course it doesn’t help that if I turn it down the queen bitch of the newsroom will get the assignment. And she would find a way to rub it in my face every day till the election.”

“Don’t even take that into consideration,” says Tish. “I know you, and I know you want someone else to make this decision for you. That ain’t happenin’. This one you’ve got to figure out for yourself.”

“I know. At least I’ve got till Monday morning. Dammit! Why does this have to happen now?”

“Because sometimes life gets in the way of our plans.” Like I said, Tish is the most logical. “Perfect timing is a rare thing.”

A waiter interrupts the conversation as he slides a drink in front of me. “From the man at the end of the bar, near the door.”

I look up and see a short, bald guy with a goatee in a leather jacket and a spider web tattoo on his neck. Totally out of place in a classy bar like this one. He shoots me a smile while chewing on a toothpick. Not remotely my type. I shake my head. “Not now.” I hand the drink back to the waiter. “Tell him thank you but I have a boyfriend.”

“Sure thing.” He heads back to the bar as I turn to my friends. “Didn’t need the kittens to eliminate that one.”

Rory laughs. “A man is the last thing you need tonight. Neither is a ride on a Harley.”

“I dunno,” says A.J. “It might clear her head.”

“The man or a ride?”

“Both, with or without the motorcycle.”

Just as she says that, the drink reappears in front of me, hand delivered by the guy. “I bought you a drink, least you could do is take it.”

I look up at him and lean back since the guy smells like an ashtray. “Look, I’m not available, so send it to some other girl.”

“C’mon, Red, lighten up.”

“I said I’m not interested.” I slide the drink away without looking at him.

A.J. glares at the guy and turns on the accent. “Get lawst, buddy.”

“Hey, I wasn’t talkin’ to you.”

“I’m counting my blessings.”

I feel his hand on my shoulder and whip my head toward him. “Get your hands off me.”

And then I see another hand grab the guy’s shirt collar and pull him away.

Officer Marino.

“You’re bothering these young ladies,” he says, now holding the guy’s arm behind his back. The cop is not in uniform, but dressed head to toe in black. “Did you not hear her say she wasn’t interested?”

The guy winces. “I was just talkin’ to her.”

“Bull. I heard the woman ask you to leave her alone.” He turns to me. “Do you want to have a drink with this guy?”

“Hell no.”

He looks at my friends. “Do any of you want a drink with this guy?”

“No!” A chorus from the girls.

The cop turns back to him. “Now, here’s a life skill for you to learn that applies to women. No means no. What part of no do you not understand, the N or the O?”

I can’t help but laugh at the line.

“Now apologize to the young ladies.”

“Sorry.”

“That didn’t sound terribly sincere.”

“I’m sorry I bothered you.”

“Good. Now we’re gonna take a little walk outside and I’m going to give you directions to the dive across town where I’m sure you’ll fit right in.” The cop turns and shoves the guy toward the door, following him out.

“Cute bouncer,” says A.J., watching him the whole way.

Rory smiles. “He’s a cop.”

Tish turns to her. “What, you know the guy?”

She nods and points at me. “The other night he pulled Freckles over in front of her house ‘cause she was speeding to get home to the kittens but he didn’t believe her story. So she invited him in to prove her case and he let her off with a warning after he saw the kittens. Of course, she gave him the Strawberry Shortcake look.”

Tish rolls her eyes. “Her trump card.”

“Hey, give me a break,” I say, stealing a quick look at the door. He still hasn’t returned. “He’s really nice.”

“Damn, a hot cop,” says A.J. “So invite him over to play stop and frisk. I’d jump on that if I were you.”

“You’d jump on anything,” says Rory.

A.J. waves her hand like she’s shooing a fly. “Pffft.”

“Anyway,” says Rory, “they had this big eye contact thing going and when he left he gave her his card, told her to call him if she needed anything. He’s definitely interested.”

I hear the door open and see Officer Marino come back inside and head toward our table. I slide my chair over to make room for him. “Thank you, kind sir. Appreciate the rescue from, as you put it, one of those ne’er-do-wells harassing me.”

“Not a problem.”

I pull an empty chair over from the next table and pat the seat. “Please, join us. I’m buying.”

“Sorry, I’m working. Hope that guy didn’t ruin your evening.”

“Thanks to you he didn’t.” I hear one of my friends clear her throat. “Oh, I’m being rude. Officer Marino, you already know Rory. That’s Tish and A.J.”

He nods at them. “Pleasure. We’ll if you guys are okay, I’d better get back to my duties.”

“So, you moonlight here?”

“Yeah, pick up some extra bucks. Saving up for a house. Well, see you around the neighborhood.”

“Sure. Thanks again.”

He starts to leave, then stops and turns back to me. “Oh, by the way, how are the kittens?”

“They’re doing fine. Fat and happy.”

He gives me a smile. “Good. Most people would have just dumped them at a shelter. It’s great that you didn’t abandon those little guys.”

Annddd … cue the guilt.

He heads back toward the bar while I turn back to my friends.

Rory locks eyes with me. “So … that clear things up a bit for ya?”

Kelly looks up from her textbook as I get home. “Have a nice time?”

“Yeah. Any problems?”

“Nope. They’re fed and cleaned up. All asleep but one.”

Suddenly I pick up the pace toward the box. “Something wrong?”

Kelly smiles. “Nah. I think your favorite is waiting up for you.”

I look at the box and see three kittens curled up together in a ball while the tortoiseshell sits in front of them. It starts to meow the moment it sees me and paws at the air, wanting to be picked up. “You okay, little guy?” I crouch down and pick up the kitten, resting it on my chest. It keeps talking, then begins to purr.

“I think he just missed you. He’s quiet when you’re not here.”

“He does demand more attention than the others.”

“I don’t think that’s it. He’s not that way with me. I think the tortoiseshell is a one-person cat, and you’re his person.”

I’m on my third cup of coffee at my usual corner table in A.J.’s family deli. The Saturday morning rush finally ends and she moves out from behind the counter to join me, sliding an Italian pastry in front of me as she sits with her own cup of java. “You get any sleep last night?”

I shake my head. “Hell no. Couldn’t stop thinking about my big decision. Kittens versus Air Force One.”

“So the wheels are still spinnin’?”

“Yeah.”

“What direction are they going?”

“Can we talk about something else?”

“Okay. What’s the story on the hot cop?”

“Rory already told you.”

“So, you gonna call him?”

“Huh?”

“I thought he gave you his card?”

“Yeah.” I reach in my purse and hand it to her.

She looks at it and rolls her eyes. “Marino. It figures.”

“What?”

“You guys get all the good paisans.”

“What do you mean, you guys?”

“You Irish girls. Italian men can’t resist you. They see the red hair and the freckles and it’s game over for the rest of us. You’re like their damn kryptonite.”

“Oh, stop it. You have men beating down your door.”

“All named Smith and Jones. I can’t ever find a good guy with a vowel at the end of his last name. So, you gonna call this cop, or what? You obviously like him.”

“You know I don’t call men.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did we miss the Sadie Hawkins dance? For God’s sake, it’s not nineteen-fifty. You can ask a guy out.”

“I wouldn’t even know how to do that.”

“You pick up the phone and say, Hey, I think you’re smoking hot and wanna jump your bones.”

“Very funny. Seriously, I’ve never asked a guy out for a date. I’m not sure I could do it. It’s a little scary for me.”

“Let me get this straight. You’re a network reporter, you take no prisoners with major politicians, you go on live television in front of millions of people, and you’re afraid to pick up the phone and call a guy?”

“The microphone and camera give me license to do all those things on TV. Without it … well … it’s just me.”

“Okay, so here’s what you do. Use a back door method of getting a date. You call the guy and tell him you want to thank him for saving you at the bar by cooking him dinner.”

“That might chase him away. You know I can burn a salad.”

“I’ll give you some simple recipes. Or how about this … I can simply box up some cannolis and you can drop by the police station to thank him personally. The precinct is right down the street from your house.”

I shake my head not wanting to deal with this right now. “I’ll think about it.”

“Yeah, right. Coward.” She starts clucking like a chicken.

I shove the pastry in my mouth, take a big bite and talk through the crumbs. “Leave me alone.”

“Of course, if you take the Air Force One thing, you can’t ask him out. He thinks a lot of you because you’re taking care of those kittens. How would it look if you ditched them?”

“I think ditched is a rather strong term.”

“You like abandoned better?”

“I don’t believe this is happening. I’m considering turning down the dream job of a lifetime because of a bunch of cats and a guy who might like me. And I’m actually conflicted about it.”

She flashes a big smile. “Yep. And I must tell you, this is fun to watch.”

“I’m glad you find my current situation so amusing.”

The bell above the door rings announcing a customer. A little blonde girl carrying a bunch of papers who is trailed by her mother moves toward our table. “Excuse me … I need some help.”

A.J. turns to the girl, who is maybe eight years old. “What can I do for you, sweetie?”

She hands each of us a sheet of paper. “Would it be okay if I put this in your window?”

What’s on the paper tugs at my heart.

LOST CAT

Our beloved cat, Snowflake, got out of the house and is missing. She’s an indoor cat and not used to taking care of herself. She’s all white with one blue eye and one green eye, is wearing a red collar and answers to her name. She is very friendly. If you see her please call.

Below that is a photo of the girl hugging the cat.

A.J. smiles at her. “Sure, honey, put it right on the front door.”

“Thank you.”

The mom thanks A.J. as the girl moves to the glass door and tapes the flyer on the inside. I can’t stop looking at the picture. “Poor kid, lost her pet.”

“Poor cat,” says A.J. “Not sure how long an indoor cat can survive outside.”

“Hopefully one of your customers will see her.”

As previously mentioned Tish is my most logical friend and the one whose advice I seek when I’m stuck. (Though I didn’t take it regarding Jeremy.) We’re both dateless tonight while A.J. and Rory are out, so we’re sharing a bottle of wine and binge watching Justified on Netflix. Watching Timothy Olyphant waste a bunch of dumb rednecks is an enjoyable pastime of ours. (Okay, even if he didn’t shoot anyone we’d watch. Mea culpa.)

A soft meow makes me hit the pause button as I see the kittens are up, with their spokesman the tortoiseshell announcing the arrival of feeding time. I look at the clock and see they’re right on schedule. “I think they can tell time.”

Tish laughs. “Their stomachs can. You want help?”

“Sure.” I bring the box into the kitchen and prepare the bottles as Tish takes a seat. “Honestly, I don’t know how people with babies do this for a couple of years. This is wearing me out. I have new respect for working moms. And moms in general.”

“Well, this is a good experience if you ever become a real mom, though that is a helluva lot harder. I remember helping my mom take care of my little sister.” She picks up a kitten and starts to stroke its fur. “Speaking of which, did you ever talk about having children with Jeremy?”

“Why are you bringing up he-who-must-not-be-named?”

“Just curious. Since your date at the wedding made it clear he didn’t like kids. I was just wondering since you were talking about marrying the guy. It’s an obvious subject for a couple to discuss.”

“Now that I think about it, Jeremy never really talked about it much. Then again neither did I. Our careers were pretty much dominating our lives.” I hand her a bottle while I sit and grab the tortoiseshell. Tish starts feeding her kitten while I do the same.

“And now?”

“You’re starting, aren’t you?”

“What?”

“Doing your lawyer thing where you ask a question when you already know the answer. I know all your tricks.”

“So you admit you’ve changed.”

“What, am I on the witness stand here? Stop cross-examining me. But yes, I’ve changed.”

“Isn’t it true that despite the lack of sleep you are enjoying taking care of these kittens?”

I don’t respond and look away.

“The witness is directed to answer the question. And may I remind her that she’s under oath.”

I shake my head and look back at her. “Fine. I like having them depend on me. And the way this one looks right into my heart …”

The kitten meows. I swear the furry little thing understands English.

Tish laughs. “I think we’ve just heard from the jury. You have been found guilty of caring.”

“So, you ever gonna give me your opinion on what I should do?”

“Asked and answered last night.”

“C’mon, Tish. I need help here.”

“Okay, fine. Sidebar. Let me ask you this. What’s the best story you ever did as a reporter?”

“That’s easy. The series I did on the veterans’ facility on Long Island that was run down.”

“Why do you consider that one your best?”

“Because it changed lives. The government got embarrassed and fixed the place up, the vets got the care they needed and the people who were embezzling funds are still in jail. And I felt really good after all that happened knowing I was responsible. I still have all the letters from veterans thanking me.”

“So, basically, would you agree that as a reporter the most important stories you do are the ones that make the world a better place?”

“Right. And I had to do a lot of old school journalism on that one. A ton of legwork and digging. I like investigative stuff. It’s like putting a really difficult puzzle together and you’re missing some pieces, but you can find them if you work hard.”

“And if you follow the President around on his campaign for a few months, will that take any investigative work?”

“Probably not. You’re part of a pool of reporters and just report what he does, get the best sound bites and do nightly live shots. I would ask strong questions, but the guy is a master at filibustering so you never get a straight answer. The odds of getting anything but his memorized talking points are slim.”

“Will your work on that assignment make the world a better place?”

I don’t answer as I look at the kitten.

“And will it make you a better person?”

I look up at her, my eyes a little wet. “I can see why you rarely lose a case.” I finish feeding the kitten, burp it, then pick up another one. “Tish, you know the worst thing about this decision?”

“No. What?”

“No matter what I choose, I’m going to feel bad about it. And always wonder if I did the right thing.”

“Something tells me you won’t.”

I finally get up around ten on Sunday morning, feeling like crap after too much wine and too little sleep. The middle of the night kitten feedings are catching up with me, but that will be over soon when they can feed themselves.

And of course, I still haven’t resolved my big dilemma.

A.J. made it worse throwing the cop into the mix.

Tish hit me with logic like a damn Vulcan on Star Trek.

Rory? She just gives me a look that tells me which way I should go.

A few weeks ago my life was simple. Decisions were easy. Black and white.

Now I’ve added gray and tortoiseshell and stripes into the equation.

I stagger into the kitchen to prepare the bottles for the kittens when I see something that makes me wide awake.

The box of kittens is empty.

They’re gone!

“What the hell?”

My eyes widen as try to replay the events of the evening. I fed them at two in the morning and put them back in the box.

Didn’t I?

A loud meow distracts me and I whip my head toward the noise.

And see the tortoiseshell halfway up the dining room curtains. “Oh, for God’s sake. There you are. Where are your friends?”

The doorbell rings as the tortoiseshell continues talking, as if to say, “Hey, look at me, I can climb!” I head to the door, shuffling my feet so as not to step on a kitten along the way.

It’s Rory, carrying a grocery bag of food for Sunday brunch. “Watch where you walk!”

She studies my face. “Huh?”

“The kittens got out of the box and I don’t know where they are.” The tortoiseshell meows and I cock my head in his direction. “Well, I know where one is.”

“Oooh, I love what you’ve done with the curtains.” Rory comes in and we start looking for the kittens. She finds one under the couch while the other two are busy playing on a chair with a hair scrunchy.

The tortoiseshell protests as I pull him off the curtains. “Okay, I need a bigger cardboard box.”

Rory rolls her eyes as she holds two of the kittens. “Uh, you do know that cats can climb trees, right?”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“They’ll just climb out of a bigger box. They have claws.”

“Oh, right.”

“They’re obviously bored and tired of being cooped up. They want to play and explore. Cats have that curiosity thing hardwired into them. You’re gonna have to let them out.”

“Well I can’t have them running around the house getting underfoot. I might accidentally step on one. And I can’t have them climbing up the curtains.”

“Put ‘em in that spare room. All you’ve got in there is exercise equipment. It’s a warm, sunny room and they can run around and play. But make a bed for them so they can snuggle.”

“So now the kittens are getting their own room.”

Rory nods and shoots me a smile. “They’re like the camel asking to stick its nose under the tent. Pretty soon you’ll be asking them for space.”