He shook his head sadly, then said, “Are you absolutely sure the water was fine?”
I glanced at my bowl, then back at my friend. “What do you mean?”
He suddenly gestured to a carton of grapefruit juice lying next to him. I recognized it as belonging to Chase, who likes all forms of fruit juice, and likes to switch things up, too.
“Are you sure the water didn’t taste like… grape?” asked Dooley with a meaningful look in his eyes.
“I…” Giving the water another lick, I determined that yes, it did indeed taste a little bit like grapefruit juice. But just a hint, you know. I smiled at my friend. “You tricked me!”
“I did,” he said gravely. “Just to show you that you can never be too careful.”
And then understanding dawned. “Is this still about the peeing in my bowl thing?”
“Oh, Max! You say you would have noticed if I peed in your bowl. That Odelia must have changed the water before you had a chance to drink from that contaminated bowl. But I think what happened is you simply didn’t pay attention and you drank that entire bowl. Just like you did now.” His voice broke, and that mournful expression was back.
“Look, even if I did, no harm done, right? A little bit of pee won’t kill me.”
He gave me a look of profound shock. “Max, how can you say that! I tried to poison you and you’re treating the whole thing so—so flippantly!”
“Because it’s not a big deal,” I said, and patted my friend on the back. “Hey, now. Don’t feel bad, Dooley. We all make mistakes, and that’s fine. No harm done, right?”
“Oh, Max,” he said. “I don’t deserve a friend like you. I really don’t.” And with these words, he shuffled off, looking even more dejected than before.
And I would have gone after him to get it through that thick skull of his that it really wasn’t a big deal, but then Gran waltzed in and made a beeline for me. “Max! Great news, buddy. The watch will be patrolling the streets of this neighborhood tonight, and if we see any sign of this cat killer, we’ll nab him and nab him good!”
“Great,” I said without much excitement.
“Aren’t you thrilled?” she asked censoriously. “You should be thrilled. The watch is here to protect you. You and every other member of our neighborhood.”
“No, it’s just that… Dooley is acting really weird, and I don’t know how to get him out of his funk.”
“The watch can’t help you there… but I can,” she finished on a triumphant note. “I’ll talk to that young whippersnapper, shall I? What seems to be the problem this time?”
“He peed in my water bowl and now he blames himself and figures I’m angry with him—which I’m not.”
“Peed in your water bowl,” said Gran, committing this to memory as she tapped her temple. “Got it. I’ll get on it right away. Anything else?”
“No, that’s it.”
She picked me up and gave me a closer scrutiny. “No lingering effects from the fire?”
“No, I’m good.”
“Are you sure? Cause I can get you a pet shrink if you want. Or a trauma specialist.”
“No need,” I said. “And with you patrolling the streets I feel so much safer already.”
Her smile was infectious, and touching. “That’s what I’m doing this for, Max. For people like you.” And with these words, she put me down again and was off with a spring in her step. “The watch is watching!” she announced as she passed through the door and out into the backyard. “So watch out!”
I couldn’t help but grin at this. And if she could make Dooley see the light, so much the better. And it was with a heart filled with hope that I set paw for the great outdoors myself. The sun was out in full force, and frankly I could do with a bit of fresh air. And I was just passing through the hole in the hedge and going in search of Brutus and Harriet when suddenly Tex came walking out of the house, a clean-cut young man in tow.
Marge, who’d been hanging up the laundry, looked up.
“Marge, honey,” said Tex. “I want you to meet someone. Dudley, this is Marge, my wife. Marge, this is Dudley Checkers. Dudley is… my son.”
Chapter 11
“He doesn’t look like Tex,” said Brutus.
“It’s the ears,” said Harriet. “Try to picture him without those floppy ears and I think he looks just like Tex.”
“I think he looks like Marge,” said Dooley.
“He can’t look like Marge, Dooley,” I said. “Marge isn’t his mother.”
The four of us were on the porch swing, intently watching the scene as it played out in the backyard. Tex had introduced his new son to his wife, and Marge was so taken aback she’d almost fallen on her tushy.
“I don’t understand,” said Dooley. “If Tex is Dudley’s father, then Marge must be his mother, right?”
“Not necessarily,” I said. “As I understand it Tex had a girlfriend before he met Marge and he and this girlfriend had, um, relations, and that’s where this kid comes from.”
Dooley chewed on that for a long moment. Judging from the thought wrinkle that appeared on his furry brow, it was tough going for a while, but finally he said, “So if he’s Tex’s son but not Marge’s… what does that make him?”
“It makes him Marge’s… stepson, I guess?” said Harriet. “And Odelia’s stepbrother.”
Dooley’s eyes went a little wider. “Odelia has a brother?”
“Yeah, this guy we’re looking at right now,” said Brutus.
“But… he doesn’t look like Odelia at all, so how can he be her brother?”
“Oh, Dooley,” said Harriet with an eyeroll.
“What’s going on?” asked Gran, who’d come out of the house munching on a cream cheese bagel and now took a seat next to us on the swing, her short legs dangling.
“Tex just found out he has a son,” I said. “And he told Marge but I don’t think she’s happy about it.”
Gran almost dropped her bagel. “Tex? A son? What the hell are you talking about?”
“This kid just introduced himself and said he’s Tex’s son,” said Harriet with a shrug. “That’s all I know.”
“That’s all any of us know,” I said, with just a touch of chagrin. Usually we’re the best-informed cats in Hampton Cove and now it appeared as if there was a very big secret that we hadn’t been clued into, and it had hit very close to home, too.
“I don’t believe this,” said Gran, gawking at this Dudley character, who now stood beaming at Marge. “Tex has a son.” She narrowed her eyes at the kid. “How old is he?”
“Um… probably in his late twenties?” I guessed.
“Huh,” said Gran, and started munching her bagel again, though judging from the mechanical movements of her jaw she was thinking hard—almost as hard as Dooley.
“I don’t know if I like this, Max,” Dooley confessed. “A brother for Odelia. What does it mean?”
“What do you mean what does it mean? It means what it means,” I said, becoming philosophical for a change.
“I mean is he going to move in with us? Or move in with Marge and Tex?”
“I doubt that very much,” I said. “He probably has a place of his own. So why would he move in with us?”
“Great news, you guys!” Tex suddenly announced, including us in the conversation. “Dudley is moving in with us!”
“Oh, for God’s sakes,” said Gran, not sounding all that excited at the prospect of welcoming this new grandson of hers into the family.
“Tex!” said Marge suddenly. “Can I have a word? In private?” she added pointedly.
“Oh, sure. Make yourself at home, Dudley. Mi casa es su casa and all that, right?”
“Thanks, Dad,” said Dudley. He looked as fresh-faced and excited to meet his dad as any son who’s just met his long-lost dad for the first time.
Marge and Tex charged into the house and Marge slammed the kitchen door for good measure.
“Uh-oh,” said Gran. “Looks like trouble in the family.”