“Let’s take another pill,” said Brutus.
“I’m not taking another pill,” I said.
“Chicken.”
“Not!”
“Then take it.”
“You take it.”
“Oh, I will,” he said, and gobbled up another pill, crunching it between his teeth.
I couldn’t say no. My whole cathood depended on it. So I followed suit.
More minutes passed. Nothing happened.
“Maybe we should take another one,” said Brutus.
I decided this time to beat him to it, and we both dove for the pills.
Just as I was gobbling down pill number five, feeling mighty manly, Dooley strode in, looking a little pale around the nostrils.
“You guys,” he said, retching slightly. “I don’t feel so good.”
“What happened?” I asked.
“I found Odelia’s pills.”
“Hey, that’s good, right?”
“And then I ate one.”
“You did what?”
He retched some more. “They looked like white kibble!”
“Oh, Dooley,” I said, and then I retched, too.
Truth be told, I wasn’t feeling so hot myself.
And when I glanced over at Brutus, he looked like he was about to pass out.
Five minutes later, when Odelia walked in, back from giving Grandma the tongue-lashing the old lady deserved, she found three cats puking their guts out, with a fourth, Harriet, wearily shaking her head at so much tomfoolery. Then Harriet dug her teeth into her collar for some reason and moments later joined the rest of us in the puking department.
Chapter 18
As Odelia walked out of the house, laden with cats, she bumped into Chase, who immediately offered to take over some of the furry creatures. She unloaded Brutus and Harriet in his arms and took Max and Dooley into the car, followed by the new cat lover.
“What’s wrong with them?” he asked as he placed Brutus and Harriet on the backseat.
She took a deep breath. “As far as I can tell,” she said, slipping behind the wheel as Chase dropped down in the passenger seat, “Brutus ate too many vitamin tablets, so did Max, Dooley ate one of my pills, and Harriet tried to chew through her collar.”
“It doesn’t look good on me,” the white cat said, panting heavily. “Cramps my style.”
Chase directed a worried look at the foursome in the backseat. “You think they’ll live?”
“We’re gonna die!” Dooley cried. “I knew it! We’re dead meat!”
“They’ll live,” Odelia said, stomping on the accelerator. The car jumped away from the curb and then they were on their way to Vena—for the second time that day.
“Thank God,” said Chase. “I love the little suckers to death. Especially Max. He’s such a special cat, don’t you think? I don’t think I’ve ever felt like that about any animal. Truth.”
She frowned. He was laying it on a little thick now. “Max is great,” she said curtly. When he wasn’t getting into a pill-swallowing competition with Brutus.
“Oh, he’s fantastic,” said Chase, slapping his thigh. “I love the little guy to death. Never thought I could ever love a cat again, I mean—after what happened to Smokey.”
“I thought your cat’s name was Blackie?”
“That’s what I meant. Blackie. Dear, sweet Blackie.”
She cut a quick glance sideways. Damn, the man looked good in profile. “Did you and Uncle Alec happen to talk about Max, by any chance?”
“Nope,” he said, feigning innocence. “Not a word. Me and Alec? We talk about the Yankees and the Mets, about work, and that’s it. Not a word about cats. Why would we?”
She had the distinct impression that this sudden fondness of cats didn’t come out of nowhere. Alec had probably told Chase that the surest way to his niece’s heart was through her cats. Why else would he be all over Max all of a sudden? “You know? Now that you and Max have developed such a strong and powerful bond, maybe you can do me a favor?”
“Sure. Anything. Anything for sweet, sweet Maxie.”
“Ugh,” Max groaned from the backseat, then retched some more.
“With Grandma giving us all such a hard time, I feel I should spend some time at my parents’ house. Try to talk some sense into the old lady. Can I rely on you to catsit for me?”
He seemed taken aback. “Catsit?”
“Yeah, just, you know, make sure they’re fed and cleaned—Vena gave me a flea comb to apply with a little bit of soapy water—and don’t forget to clean out their litter box.”
He made a face. “Litter box?”
“You know, remove the old litter, scrape out the clumps of pee stuck to the bottom, wash it out with soapy water—I like to add a little bleach, too. For some reason Max loves the scent of bleach, don’t ask me why. Take a fresh sponge and a fresh pair of gloves—I hope they’re not too small for you. It’s one size fits all, though, so you should be good. Towel the box dry—use paper towels, not kitchen towels—and fill it up with about three to five inches of litter and you’re done.” She shrugged. “I don’t know why I’m telling you, though, seeing as you’re an even bigger cat person than I am. You’ve probably done this a million times.”
For a moment, Chase didn’t speak, then he said, a catch in his voice, “I may not be a bigger cat person than you, though, babe.”
“Oh?”
“The thing is—Alec told me to be extra-nice to your cats.”
“Now why would he say a thing like that?”
He turned to her. “The thing is, I like you, Odelia. I like you a lot. In fact it’s not too much to say I like you a whole damn lot—probably more than I’ve liked any woman.”
Her face flushed, as she realized four cats were holding their breaths in the backseat.
“I like spending time with you. I like coming home to you. I like sleeping with you. Heck, I’ve never felt happier than these past few months we’ve spent together.” He took a deep breath. “I like your cats, but I like you a lot more. I know you’re a package deal, babe. One woman and a litter of crazy cats. And that’s fine. In fact it’s more than fine. What I’m trying to say is…” He lowered his voice. “How do you feel about moving in together?”
She smiled and darted a quick look in the rearview mirror at her menagerie. They were still holding their breaths, or so it seemed. “Breathe, you guys,” she said. “Deep breaths.” She applied the same advice to herself, then looked over at Chase and spoke a single word. “Yes.”
Chase pumped the air with his fist. “One catsitter, free of charge, at your service.”
She laughed. “You don’t have to catsit. I was just joshing you.”
“Oh, thank God,” he said, throwing his head back.
“I thought you were so busted up when Blackie died? Or was it Smokey?”
“I was busted up when Blackie and Smokey died. Both of them. I had Blackie when I was six. And my folks got me Smokey when I was twelve. Those two were with me for many wonderful years. Only Smokey was a Lab and Blackie was a Golden Retriever. Best dogs a man has ever known. I still miss ‘em every day.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Chase. Maybe we should get a dog?”
There was a collective intake of breath behind Odelia.
“Four cats and a dog? Don’t you think that’s a bit much?”
She patted his leg. “We’ll figure it out.”
Can a cat person peacefully coexist with a dog person? She had no idea, but she was willing to try.
“A dog,” Harriet said, a whining note in her voice. “She’s getting a dog. I hate dogs.”
“He’s moving in,” said Dooley, sounding shell-shocked. “He’ll eat all her pills and then there will be babies!”
“Oh, relax, you guys,” said Max. “Chase is okay. He saved us from that wild cat.”
“That’s true,” said Dooley musingly. “There may be hope for us yet.”
“My pee-pee,” said Brutus suddenly, interrupting the others. “It hurts.”
“Jeezus, Brutus,” said Max. “What is that thing?”
“Is that…” Harriet began, then cried, “Brutus, it’s huge!”