All three trod into the screened-in back porch where six other show quality Himalayan cats sat sunning themselves contentedly.
“This is Juliet, Viola, Ophelia, Oberon, Othello, and Hamlet,” she said by way of introduction. “They’re all still active on the circuit. I’m the only one with the distinction of being retired.” She laughed at this, and my pets joined in even though I’d be willing to bet that neither of them understood the joke—I didn’t either.
“C’mon,” Christine said, leading us back toward the entryway. “Let’s get you unpacked while these two lovebirds catch up.”
“Eck!” Octo-Cat screeched. “Being called a bird is even worse than being called a dog.”
“She means well, sweetest,” Grizabella purred at his side. “But we can’t all be blessed with the perfect human companion like you. Can we?”
I stopped in my tracks and jerked my head toward Octo-Cat in complete and utter shock.
“Yeah, I said it,” he growled and curled a lip at me. “And I can just as easily un-say it. Now get out of here while I’m still feeling generous.”
After that accidental confession of his, I didn’t stop smiling for the rest of that day. Despite all his complaints, Octo-Cat not only loved me, he thought I was the best human ever. That meant a lot, considering how difficult he was to please even on his best days.
Once Nan and I had unpacked, Christine offered us tea and cookies. More than once she tried to bring the conversation back around to my gift for talking to animals. And each time I deftly deflected. I needed to speak with Nan about her willingness to share my private business with near strangers before I included Christine in any such talks.
Charles continued to text throughout the day to update me on the non-progress of the seagulls’ case. All he had were the precedents he’d immediately found regarding squatter’s rights in Maine. Unfortunately, he still knew next to nothing about what had happened to the missing flock whose territory was now up for dispute.
Given that Pringle failed to return to my property the night before, we also had no idea whether he’d found something of value or whether he was even still okay… For all we knew, he could have taken a wrong turn and wound up as roadkill. If that had happened because of something I’d asked him to do, I would never forgive myself.
But right now I needed to stop worrying about what could happen and focus on what already had.
Mainly that Nan was sharing my secret with the world… Why?
We both begged off early that night, tired from the long drive and eager to sleep in actual beds again for a change. Christine’s guest room comprised two twin beds, the perfect setup for the conversation we needed to have.
At last, I broached the topic once we’d both changed into our pajamas and settled beneath the hand-made quilts that adorned the matching beds.
“Nan? Why does Christine know about what I can do?”
“It just seemed easier to let her in on it,” my grandmother confessed after turning on her side to face me. “Otherwise this trip would have been quite awkward trying to hide the truth the whole time. And I know Octo-Cat would have driven you crazy with his complaints if we had to spend our nights in a hotel instead of here with his girlfriend.” She shrugged again. “I guess this just seemed like the best option for everyone involved.”
Her answer did not comfort me. In fact, it seemed as if she believed she’d done me a favor. That was definitely not the case. I didn’t want this to turn into an argument, but I did need to make sure she understood.
I tried approaching from a different angle. “Okay, then why did you tell Melissa and her family?”
Nan’s face twisted into a grimace, proving I’d gotten through to her this time. “Oh, that. I’d forgotten I had. It just came up in conversation one day. Sorry about that.”
“Why are you telling people at all? Shouldn’t this be my secret to share?” I watched as her face fell.
She blinked hard. “Oh, dear. You’re right. Of course, you’re right, and I’m sorry if I overstepped. I really didn’t tell that many people, and I made sure none of them lived anywhere near to us. I know how awkward that would make things for you if people we saw every day at the supermarket or the bank or post office knew.”
I sucked in a slow, shaky breath. Confrontation was never easy, least of all with Nan. I needed to say this next part with gentle words but a firm tone. “But, Nan, I don’t want anyone to know, other than the ones I’ve trusted enough to tell myself.”
“Of course not, I’m so sorry. I guess…” She sighed. “I guess I just spent so many years hiding this big important truth that once it was out there I couldn’t help but share everything.”
I smiled to show her I understood, and that even though I definitely didn’t like her actions, I’d already forgiven her for them. “You may have overcorrected there.”
“You’re right, and I’m sorry.” She pulled the quilt up close to her chin and offered a sad smile.
We both lay silent for a couple moments until Nan suddenly popped up in bed and turned to face me with wide eyes. I could practically see the cartoon lightbulb appear over her head. “Tell you what. First of all, I hereby solemnly swear that I won’t tell another soul. You have my word.”
I let out an enormous sigh of relief. “That’s a good start. Thank you.”
She clasped her hands together in her lap and giggled. “And if it ever comes up again, I’ll just tell people that I’ve gone senile. You can toss me in the worst nursing home you can find, and that will be that.”
I gasped. “Nan, you know I would never do that!”
“Okay, fine. I’ll toss myself in.”
“You’re not going to a nursing home.”
“Well, no, because I’m not going to share your secrets anymore. See, it works out for everyone?”
“Love you, Nan.” I said, snapping off the bedside lamp with great satisfaction. If only all conversations went this smoothly, we’d be living in a very different world.
Chapter Nineteen
Octo-Cat and Grizabella began the following day by feasting on jumbo shrimp from a crystal goblet and lying together in a sunbeam most of the afternoon. At night they snuggled up in front of a roaring fire and took turns giving each other tongue baths.
On the third day of our visit, the two kitty lovers strolled through the flowerbeds and ate some grass from the back lawn.
And on the fourth day, they both had upset tummies. This, however, did not stop Octo-Cat from wooing his love by hunting a robin and delivering its carcass for her enjoyment.
Day five is when the anguished mewling began. They both knew their trip was almost up and hated the thought of being separated again so soon after they’d been reunited.
When we began our drive home on day six, poor Octo-Cat was beyond devastated. He hardly spoke at all—not even to complain—the entire drive home. But we couldn’t add even an hour’s delay to our return trip, given the upcoming trial by seagull that awaited us back home. I needed to be there to help Charles deliver his case, or the flock would assuredly wreak unholy terror on us. After all, they’d promised.
Paisley made sure to cuddle and groom Octo-Cat in turns, being the friend he needed but hadn’t quite felt up to asking for. Nan focused on the drive and the new audiobook we’d picked up in town. This one was a sweeping historical saga that actually ran longer than our entire drive time, if you can believe that.
Once home, I had just enough time to take a good two-hour nap before Charles arrived to collect me so we could drive together to the seagulls’ dumpster in Dewdrop Springs.
I gathered my hair in a messy ponytail and pulled on a polka-dotted maxi dress to wear with my thick boots and a coat, and we were off.
“Are you ready for the biggest case of your life?” I joked, happy that it was just me and him in the car and that this drive would only be half an hour instead of thirty-five.