Brutus looked up.“Hey! Don’t talk to my lady like that, Max. Show some respect.”
“Brutus, my friend,” I began.
He gave me the evil eye.“Don’t go getting all soft on me again, Max. We’re all catly cats together. There’s no reason to get mushy.” He directed a grin at Harriet. “Isn’t that right, sugar lips?”
“That’s absolutely right, my stud muffin,” she cooed.
Brutus took me aside, and whispered,“Just play along, Max! She likes me all butch and macho so butch and macho is what she gets. Capisce?”
“But I liked you better when you were, you know, normal!”
Brutus rolled his eyes.“Haven’t you ever been in love, Max?”
“Um, no?”
He punched my chest.“Fall in love, and then we’ll talk again. And now don’t cramp my style, buddy. I’m warning you. Don’t ruin this for me.”
“What are you two whispering about, Brutus?” Harriet asked.
“Just telling this chump what’s what, my queen.” Quieter, he hissed, “I like you, Max. I like you a lot, and I wanna thank you for what you did for me. But this is how it’s gonna be from now on, got me?” Then, louder again, “You little weasel! If you talk to me like that again, I’m kicking your big, hairy, orange butt!”
And then he stalked off, leaving me staring after him, floored.
Oh, great. Instead of a real bully, now I got the Actors Studio version.
Dooley wandered over.“Don’t you think Norma’s fur is the color of—”
“No, I don’t!” I interrupted him brutally. “And please don’t talk to me about that cat again. Ever!”
Dooley stared at me, rudely awakened from his roseate dream. And as I sat there, moping, suddenly Harriet stole over to me. She gave me a gentle shove.“Maxie,” she said in a sultry voice. “I never saw this side of you before. When did you become all dominant and butch?”
I stared at her.“Huh?”
She giggled, a low and seductive sound.“I like this new Max a lot better than the old one. How about we share a piece of chicken?”
This was just too much. After all this nonsense with Diego, and now Brutus, she wanted to steal my chicken? No way!“You’ve got your own damn piece of chicken,” I snapped. “I’m not sharing mine.”
“Ooh, Maxie,” she cooed. “My butchy Maxie!”
And then she threw herself into my paws and kissed me!
4.5. PURRFECT SANTA
Chapter 1
I’d actually been looking forward to sleeping in a little. Probably the cold and the darkness slowing down my metabolism or something. When the days get shorter and the nights longer I want to curl up in bed and sleep forever. Like badgers. Or is it bears? Unfortunately, I am neither. I am human and I own a cat, so no hibernation for me. I woke up when there was a loud crashing sound nearby, and when I opened my eyes I saw that Max, my red tomcat, and his buddy Dooley, my Gran’s ragamuffin, had managed to destroy my curtains. Tearing them down, curtain rod and all.
I groaned against the sudden light that hit my eyes.“Max! Dooley! Are you serious?”
“Sorry, Odelia,” said Dooley sheepishly. “We didn’t mean to destroy your curtains.”
“They’re not destroyed, Dooley,” said Max. “They’re just… temporarily displaced.”
I swung my feet from beneath the comforter and into my fuzzy pink rabbit slippers.“Oh, they’re destroyed,” I said, then yawned cavernously and stretched out.
I got up and walked over to the window to assess the damage. All in all, it wasn’t that bad. Nothing that couldn’t be fixed. I blinked at the world outside. A thick layer of snow had fallen overnight, covering the world in a blanket of white. The sun was out and lit up the snow like a field of diamonds. Ugh. Like a vampire, I shielded my eyes from the brightness, and wished I could go back to sleep.
“Can we go out and play, Odelia?” asked Dooley excitedly.
“Sure. But I have to warn you guys. It’s a lot colder than it looks.”
The two cats scrambled from the room and down the stairs. I decided to follow at a much more leisurely pace, and not before fixing my curtains. They weren’t actually ruined. The rod had tumbled down from its support. So I dragged up a chair and returned it to its original position.
Once downstairs, I started up the coffeemaker, took my favorite cup from the cupboard—the one that says ‘crazy cat lady’—and ambled over to the sliding glass door to look out. The cats had already made their way outside, and were gingerly testing out the snow. It was a cute sight. They carefully sunk their paws into the mass of white, then quickly extracted them again. No matter how many times they experienced snow, each time it seemed like the first time. Five minutes in, they were inside again, shaking off the snow.
“Too cold!” Dooley lamented.
“Too wet!” Max grumbled.
“I told you,” I said with a smile, and watched them hop onto the couch and promptly doze off. Cold and wet. Two things all cats seem to hate. I didn’t think I’d get them outside again this winter. Which was a pity, as my work as a reporter doesn’t stop just because temperatures drop. And my cats are my eyes and ears. They spot things that remain hidden to humans, and are my best sources of information. My name is Odelia Poole, by the way, and I’m not just a reporter at the Hampton Cove Gazette, but also a civilian consultant with the local police, helping them solve crime from time to time, something else my feline sleuths help me with.
I poured myself some coffee, gratefully curling my fingers around the cup, and took little sips.
Today I was working from home, so after hitting the shower I dressed in sweatpants and a raggedy fleece Garfield sweater, and plunked down at my computer. My editor, Dan Goory, wanted to publish an article on the new Christmas tree the town council put up in Town Square. The official unveiling of the tree was a disaster, with many townies expressing their horror and shock. The tree wasn’t so much a tree as much as a metal frame in the shape of a tree with a high-tech light show attached. The council called it the modernization of Christmas, and claimed it would put us on the map as a progressive and forward-thinking town. Most Hampton Covians thought it was just plain ugly, anda disgrace to our Christmas tradition. All in all, it had more or less ruined the festive season for many people, and Dan was one of the most vocal opponents of the monstrosity, as he called it.
I had only written the intro to my article when the doorbell rang. I ambled over to answer it. Max and Dooley had magically woken up and were eagerly waiting at the door before I got there.
I smiled. My cats simply adore our mailwoman, because Bambi always comes bearing cuddles and sometimes even gifts. She’s a cat person, just like me, and is crazy about Max and Dooley.
I opened the door and was surprised to find it wasn’t Bambi delivering the mail today but her husband Randi. I didn’t think too much of it. It was the holidays, after all, and Bambi was probably enjoying a day off. I grabbed the mail, said goodbye to Randi, and closed the door.
“Where’s Bambi?” asked Max.
“Mh?” I asked absentmindedly as I scanned the mail.
“Bambi,” he said. “That wasn’t Bambi. Where’s Bambi?”
“Of course she is,” I muttered and returned to my computer.
“Where’s Bambi?” Max asked again.
“Max, can you please be quiet?” I asked. “I have a ton of work and I need to focus.”
Cats. They can get really obsessed about stuff sometimes. Like when their favorite letter carrier suddenly doesn’t show up. In that respect they’re pretty much OCD. Five minutes later, they were meowing up a storm to be let out again, so I dragged myself from my seat, opened the glass door, and watched them strut off. Why I had a pet door installed in the kitchen I do not know, as they rarely seem to useit, preferring their human to play butler instead.
I returned to my desk, and put in a solid two hours of work on the Christmas tree piece.
Chapter 2
I decided to walk to the office, as the roads were a little tricky to navigate by car, and I don’t like driving in these conditions. And since the sun was out and the air was crisp and fresh, a little walk was exactly what the doctor ordered. Max and Dooley were nowhere to be seen, and neither were Harriet and Brutus, the cats that belong to Mom and Chase, my boyfriend the cop. I wasn’t worried. They were old and wise enough to take care of themselves, and not get into any trouble.