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“Oh, my God,” said Brutus, looking on with fascination. “I never thought Bennie would cheat on Sookie. They were the perfect couple! Everybody said so!”

It was obvious to me that Brutus was as big a fan of this Passion Island bonanza as Harriet and Gran.

Just then, Dooley came trudging down the stairs again, a very sleepy-looking Odelia in tow. “So what’s all this about the United Nations General Assembly?” she asked.

But Dooley had become distracted by the footage on TV. He stared at the wild sheet tussle for a moment, then asked, “What are those people doing, Max?”

Brutus and I immediately scrambled to grab the remote and change the channel. Unfortunately in our efforts to do so, the thing dropped to the floor and skipped underneath the couch. And as I aimlessly reached for the gizmo, I saw how Dooley approached the screen and stared at the footage of Sookie’s Bennie-ie-ie-ie and wily seductress Mia, whoever she was, performing feats of acrobatics, their modesty only covered by a thin sheet.

“Are they playing a game?” asked Dooley, wide-eyed now as he took in the scene.

“Um, yeah,” I said, still fruitlessly reaching underneath the couch. “Yeah, they’re playing a game of hide and seek.”

“Looks like they found each other,” said Dooley, quite astutely I might add.

“Oh, is that Passion Island?” asked Odelia, stifling a yawn. “I love that show.”

Brutus emitted a low groan. “Everybody loves that show,” he said.

“Yeah, even Mom and Dad watch every episode.” She frowned at the screen. “This is a rerun though, right?” Like a true addict, she sounded worried she’d missed something.

“Yeah, they’re gearing up for a new season, and started airing last season’s episodes to whet people’s appetites,” said Brutus, as the expert he clearly was.

Dooley had turned his head sideways and was still watching the couple intently. “It looks like they’re rubbing against each other,” he said finally, still that puzzled look on his face. “Why are they rubbing against each other, Max?”

“Um, I guess one of them has an itch,” I said, eliciting a smile from Odelia. Then, finally getting hip to my predicament, she fished the remote from underneath the couch, and quickly changed channels. A weatherman started waxing poetic about a low-pressure system moving in from the East, or it could have been the West, and I breathed a sigh of relief. The danger had been averted, and Dooley’s innocence was safe once more.

“Harriet wants to be on that show,” said Brutus. “And Gran told her she’s going to help her.”

Odelia laughed. “Of course she did.” She patted Brutus on the head. “Don’t you worry about a thing, Brutus. The day Harriet is selected for Passion Island is the day hell freezes over.” And with these sage words, she entered the kitchen to start fixing herself and Chase some breakfast.

Chapter 3

Suddenly the sliding glass door that looks out onto the backyard opened and Gran walked in, followed by none other than Harriet herself. They both had those looks of determination in their eyes that spelled trouble.

“Odelia, there’s something I need to talk to you about,” said Gran in a tone of voice that brooked no contest.

“Oh, hey, Gran,” said Odelia. “Are you joining us for breakfast?”

“Yeah, sure,” said Gran. “Look, I’m going crazy next door, with your mom and dad in Europe, and I was thinking—“

“Coffee?”

“Yeah. So I’ve been thinking—“

“Milk and sugar?”

“You know I take my coffee black, honey,” said Gran, taking a seat on one of the high stools at the kitchen counter.

Odelia smiled, and I could tell she wasn’t fully awake yet. It takes a heavy dose of caffeine to accomplish that minor feat, and she hadn’t had hers yet.

Chase came stomping down the stairs, yawning cavernously and stretching. “I had the weirdest dream,” he announced to no one in particular. “I dreamt that I was on an island and there were only women. Can you imagine? I was the only male on an island filled with the most gorgeous wo—“ He suddenly became aware he was being intently watched by his future grandmother-in-law, and quickly shut up. Waking up on an island filled with gorgeous women may be every man’s fantasy, it clearly wasn’t Gran’s.

Odelia took it in stride, though. “Well, isn’t that a coincidence? I dreamt I was on a desert island filled with gorgeous men, all catering to my every need. Crazy, huh?”

Immediately, Chase’s expression soured. “I don’t know what’s so wonderful about an island full of men,” he grumbled as he dug into the fridge and came out with the OJ.

“Well, I enjoyed it,” said Odelia. “You were saying, Gran?”

“Thank you,” said Gran. “Before I was so rudely interrupted…” She raised her voice as she spoke this last word, casting a censorious look at Chase, which the latter ignored as he was clearly still ruminating on Odelia’s island-of-gorgeous-males dream. “… I was going to tell you that I’ve decided to move in with you guys again. Isn’t that great?”

Chase, who’d been glugging down his orange juice straight from the container, choked and spat out a stream of the orange stuff straight into the sink. Some of it came out of his nose.

“You what?” he said, not exactly with the kind of warmth and welcoming attitude a woman expects from the man who’s about to plight his troth to her granddaughter.

“It’s just that I’ve been feeling a little lonely lately, all alone in that big old house.”

“You have your cats,” Chase pointed out as he wiped his face with a paper towel.

“It’s not the same without my daughter and her husband,” said Gran decidedly, “so I’ve decided to move in with you until they’re back from their trip through Europe. Now if you could prepare me a slice of toast, very crisp, lightly buttered, there’s a good boy.”

I saw how Chase exchanged a flabbergasted look with Odelia, the latter merely responding with a sigh and a shrug, and I felt for the big guy. I mean, it’s one thing to fall in love with a chirpy, happy, peppy blonde and move in with her, but quite another to get a slightly irritating older lady as a surprise bonus when you do.

“If gran is moving in with Odelia and Chase,” said Harriet, “Brutus and I are also moving back in.”

“Back?” I asked. “What do you mean, back? You’ve only ever lived next door, Harriet.”

“Yeah, and now I’m moving in with you, Max,” she said tersely. “Got a problem with that?”

Warning bells went off in my head, and a good thing they did, as many a cat has been on the receiving end of Harriet’s sharp tongue, and claws, in the past, and I wasn’t in the mood for either a tongue lashing, or a demonstration of just how sharp those claws were.

“No, no,” I hurried to say. “It’s perfectly fine with me.”

“If you do move in,” said Dooley, “we’ll probably have to negotiate a new peace treaty. Just like we did with Hector and Helga. I suggest Max and I get the downstairs, and you guys can have the upstairs. The basement, of course, belongs to the mice.”

“What are you talking about, Dooley?” asked Harriet, an expression of annoyance having crept up her pretty face.

“Well, when Hector moved in, Max negotiated a peace treaty,” Dooley explained, as I made frantic gestures for him to stop talking. Gestures, unfortunately, he blithely ignored. “So it’s only fair we do the same thing with you. Max, do you want to start?” He gave Harriet a warm smile. “Max is a skilled negotiator. Isn’t that right, Max?”

I cleared my throat as Harriet turned those fiery eyes on me. “Is that a fact?” she said.

“Well, obviously there’s a slight difference between a colony of mice moving in and two dear, dear friends like yourself and Brutus,” I prevaricated.

“Oh, is there now?” said Harriet, having adopted the kind of smooth tone that usually precipitates an outburst of volcanic proportions.