45. PURRFECT BACHELOR
Chapter 1
Dooley and I were hard at work doing what we do best—namely napping, after having eaten our fill in delicious kibble—when Odelia’s phone rang. We were in her office, assisting her in the writing of one of her articles. Simply by being there, we provide our human with much-needed inspiration. In other words: we provide a vital service.
Or at least that’s what we like to think.
“Yes?” she said in a distracted voice as she frowned at her attempt to write a fascinating account of the dog show that had recently taken place in town. Not sure why anyone would want to look at dozens of dogs and pick a so-called ‘best in show.’ I mean, it’s dogs. Enough said. Now if ithad been a cat show, that would be a different story. Unlike dogs, cats are actually nice to look at. We’re graceful, clever, attractive… I could go on and on.
Odelia frowned, and glanced in my direction. I heaved a little sigh, for I knew exactly what that look signified: another case was looming large on the horizon.
You see, Odelia might be a mere small-town reporter, but lately she’s been simply inundated with requests from people in need of her assistance. She took on one case, managed to bring it to a satisfying conclusion for all concerned, and soon word spread and now everyone who’s facing some issue great or small comes a-knocking, hoping she’ll do the same for them. It’s very tiring, I must say. Then again, there is something imminently gratifying about helping a person or persons in need. Not least because there is usually a nice treat involved if we manage to do a good job.
“Looks like we’ve got another case, Dooley,” I said, stirring my friend.
“I was dreaming” he announced, smacking his lips.
“Of kibble?”
“Of the baby.”
“Oh.”
It was a point we’d both spent a lot of mental energy on lately. Odelia recently announced that she’s pregnant, and I honestly have to say I don’t know whether we should be happy or sad. Babies are an unknown quantity, of course, not unlike a loose cannon. They might be a cause for concern, or a cause for great joy, depending which side of the cannon you’re facing. In other words it’s hard to know what to expect before they actually pop onto the scene. The problem is, unlike a cannon, loose or otherwise, you can’t return a baby to sender. Once they arrive, they’re… there, if you see what I mean. They’re not going away, and will probably be something we have to deal with… forever!
“Let’s go, you guys,” said Odelia, grabbing her phone.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“That was Mrs. Kristina Careen on the phone just now,” she said. “And it seems that she needs our help.”
“Don’t they all,” I murmured, but nevertheless got up from my favorite blanket.
When duty calls, and all that.
On the drive over, Dooley was conspicuously quiet, then finally blurted out,“So when is the baby due, Odelia?”
“Oh, not for months,” she said as she leisurely steered her aged pickup through early morning traffic.
“Months? Or years?”
She laughed.“I think that’s a different species you’re thinking of.”
“Are there species where pregnancy takes years?” I asked, interested. It would be nice, of course, if it took Odelia nine years to deliver this baby instead of nine months. In nine years I might finally be ready to greet this bundle of joy into our lives. Or not.
“Dinosaurs, maybe?” Dooley suggested.
“That might explain why they went extinct,” said Odelia, who seemed in a particularly good mood this morning. Must be all of those pregnancy hormones, I guess. Odelia’s mom Marge and her grandma had been talking a lot about the glow Odelia had. Though to be absolutely honest I hadn’t noticed any such phenomenon. Not even in the dark.
“So how many months?” asked Dooley. “Twelve? Twenty-four?”
“More like nine,” said Odelia. “The usual, you know.”
“Harriet said that pregnant women develop a lump,” said Dooley. He sounded worried. “So do you have a lump already, Odelia? And if you do, does it ever go away again?”
“I think Harriet was probably referring to a bump, not a lump,” said Odelia with the same placid calm she usually displays when answering Dooley’s barrage of questions. I guess she figures it’s good practice for when the kid is born. Kids are notorious for asking a lot of inane questions. “And yes, it does go away again. Or at least I hope it does.”
Dooley swallowed away a lump of his own.“Where is this bump going to be? Not on your face, is it? Or on top of your head?”
Odelia laughed out loud now.“No, Dooley, a baby bump doesn’t suddenly show up on a person’s face. It’s actually right here,” she said, and pleasantly patted her belly.
Dooley and I, who had the pleasure of riding shotgun, closely studied our human’s belly. “I don’t see any bump,” said Dooley, and he seemed extremely relieved. All this talk of bumps had him worried, and me, too, I have to admit. It can’t be a lot of fun to suddenly develop strange bumps where no bumps were before.
“That’s because it’s still early days,” said Odelia. “It should start to show in a couple of weeks.”
“How big does this bump get?” asked Dooley.
“Yes,” I chimed in. “Are we talking a tennis-ball bump or a volleyball bump?”
“That depends,” said Odelia. “Though I hope it won’t be too big. I’d like to keep on working for as long as I can.”
“What do you mean?” asked Dooley, a slight hint of panic clear in his voice. “You’ll have to stop working because of the bump?”
“In the last couple of days or weeks I might have to take it easy,” Odelia explained. “To make sure the baby is fine, and me, too.”
Dooley gulped some more. His eyes had gone wide.“You mean having a baby… is dangerous?!”
“It is a delicate time for a woman, Dooley. So I might have to rest a lot.” She tickled my friend under the chin. “But don’t you worry. I’m sure everything will be just fine.”
But Dooley didn’t seem convinced, and as he stared some more at Odelia’s as-yet non-existent bump, I could tell that her words had done little to assuage his concerns.
We’d arrived at a nice house in a cozy neighborhood, and Odelia parked her car right across the street. A big tree dominated the front yard, and judging from the house itself, the family that lived there took great care in maintaining their pleasant little home.
We walked up to the front door, and Odelia took a deep breath, then pressed her finger to the bell.
“Why did we have to come all the way out here?” I asked. “Why couldn’t Mrs. Careen come to us?”
“Because Kristina Careen is agoraphobic, that’s why,” said Odelia. And when both Dooley and I stared at her, she explained, “She’s afraid to go outside.”
And she probably would have said more, but at that moment the door opened and a smallish woman with short blond hair appeared, and so we all stepped into the house.
Mrs. Careen quickly closed the door, as if afraid that some monster would reach inside and grab her if she left the door open for too long, and we followed her into the living room. Airy and bright, there were plenty of plants spread out throughout the roomy space, and there was even a grand piano near the window. On top of the piano, a veritable smorgasbord of framed pictures had been placed. I saw plenty of pictures of our hostess, out and about in many different places. Clearly Kristina Careen hadn’t always been afraid to leave the house.
“Please take a seat,” said our hostess, gesturing to a white leather couch. “Can I get you anything? Tea? Coffee?” She glanced down at me and Dooley. “Milk for the cats?”
“Water for the cats will be fine, and for me, too,” said Odelia, taking a seat.
Mrs. Careen disappeared into the kitchen for a moment, and soon returned.“I’m sorry for dragging you out here,” she said as she placed a large glass of cool water on a coaster on the coffee table, and a dish of the same on the floor for us. “But like I explained over the phone, I don’t get out much.” She grimaced. “Or rather, I don’t get out at all thesedays.”