“TOO CHEESY?” someone howled from the kitchen. “You were always telling me to put more cheese in it!”
Pierre froze midchew, then swallowed hard. He slowly turned toward the voice. When he saw Louis standing in the kitchen doorway, his mouth fell open.
“M-M-Midnight?” he stammered.
Berlioz and Toulouse slunk into the kitchen to join Marie, and the three kittens crouched down to watch what happened next.
“Hello, mon ami,” Louis said, taking a few steps forward. “It’s good to see your face.”
“Wh-wh-what are you doing here?” Pierre asked.
“I’m here to help my friends Berlioz, Toulouse, and Marie learn how to run a café. The animals of Paris need to have their own eatery again, don’t you think?”
Pierre hopped off his chair and stepped closer to Louis so their noses were nearly touching.
“I thought you were in America,” Pierre said.
“I thought you never wanted to speak to me again,” Louis said in return. “That was quite a fight we had that day my human told yours he was leaving.”
“It was,” Pierre said with a nod. “But we shouldn’t have let one fight ruin a whole friendship.”
“I agree.” Louis bowed his head. “Is it too late to say I’m sorry?”
“Not for me,” Pierre replied. “I’m sorry, too, my friend. Bah, how I’ve missed you!”
They touched noses. The kittens exchanged excited glances. Success!
“My quiche was too cheesy back then, wasn’t it?” Louis added. “I’ve learned not to use so much.”
The brown-and-white bulldog and the fluffy black cat laughed.
After a few moments, Toulouse bounded toward them and said, “Hey, Pierre? How did we do on our tryout? Do you think we can run a café?”
Pierre smiled. “Bah! I certainly do! Maybe you can talk Monsieur Midnight into coming in to help again.”
The kittens started jumping on one another in excitement. “Yay! Woo-hoo!”
“But I can’t officially say yes,” Pierre added, “unless you agree to one more thing.”
Marie, Berlioz, and Toulouse stopped wrestling. One more thing?
“The name of the café,” Pierre continued. “It came to me in a dream last night.”
He held up a paw to Toulouse’s mural, showing them where the words might appear. “The Purrfect Paw-tisserie.”
Everyone fell silent for a moment.
“I love it!” Berlioz exclaimed.
“Ha ha ha!” Toulouse laughed. “Yes!”
“That’s the best name ever,” Marie said, rushing to nuzzle the bulldog. “Thank you, Monsieur Pierre! Thank you!”
“Together, we all make a great team,” Louis said.
Berlioz thought for a moment, then chimed in: “Everything does come out better when we get over our differences and cooperate.”
“Yes,” Pierre agreed. “And that’s good…because we still have lots of work to do.”
WELCOME, FRIENDS FURRY, SCALY & FEATHERY!
ENJOY LIFE AT THE PURRFECT PAW-TISSERIE!
High up on a ladder, Toulouse finished the final E on the café’s new slogan. The letters were bright gold, and below them, he’d filled his park painting with greens for the leaves and grass, brown for the walkways, and blue for the sky.
It was opening day at the brand-new café.
“The more I stare at it, the more I see what a lovely park it is,” Marie said, standing next to a cart full of fresh-baked dog bone biscuits and looking over the mural. “Your art is really beautiful, Toulouse.”
“The other walls look cool, too,” Berlioz said from his bench at the piano. He glanced up at the wall above him, where Toulouse had hung several framed paintings by other neighborhood cats. One was a portrait of a fish, called I Love Tuna! Another was a view of Paris rooftops at night, surrounded by stars, with the simple title of Home.
“When do we get to hear your new song?” Marie asked Berlioz, pushing her tray of biscuits into a big glass pastry case. The cats from Alley Cat Parlor had built it for them. Inside were rows and rows of colorful treats.
“I’m not going to play it until the grand opening party,” Berlioz replied. “So you’ll just have to wait.”
Marie stuck out her tongue at Berlioz. Berlioz gave her a ffffffft in return. Then they both giggled and grinned at each other.
“Enough of that, my darlings,” called their mother. Duchess and O’Malley had come in while the kittens were busy with their last-minute tasks.
“Mama!” Berlioz squealed, spinning on his piano stool with his arms out wide. “What do you think?”
Duchess walked slowly around the café, swishing among the freshly painted white tables of all different animal sizes. O’Malley leaned in to the pastry case and sniffed, his whiskers and ears twitching.
“App-e-ti-zing, baby!” he said.
“It’s lovely from top to bottom,” Duchess declared. “I’m so proud of you, children!”
“Thank you, Mama!” the kittens cried, rushing to nuzzle her.
Pierre and Louis came in through the secret door. When Pierre saw Duchess and the kittens, he said, “I hate to break up this giant cat cuddle, but you have some hungry guests outside, waiting to come in.”
“Just one more moment, if you please, Monsieur Pierre,” Duchess said to him, then turned back to her kittens. “Working together to get the café ready was not always easy for you…but you did it! This is such a special day. Can you get through it without any more fighting?”
“Of course we can, Mama!” Marie said, then blinked her long lashes a few times. “Or at least, I know I can.”
“Me too,” Toulouse added.
“Me three,” Berlioz insisted.
“We do argue a little,” Marie admitted. “Or maybe a lot. But we really do make a great team.”
“Very well, then,” Duchess said with a smile. “Pierre and Louis, please open the door!”
Pierre and Louis smiled at each other, and together, the two old friends threw open the secret door in the grate and said: “Bonjour! The Purrfect Paw-tisserie welcomes you!”
Four sets of scurrying little feet—belonging to Roquefort and his cousins Brie, Camembert, and Munster—rushed inside and up to the pastry case.
“Hello, kittens!” Roquefort greeted them. “We couldn’t wait to come back and try more of your—Good heavens! Look at all these treats!”
As the mice began picking out items from the pastry case, something moved like a streak across the floor.
“Pardon me! Pardon me! Acorn-berry-tart-pardon-me!”
Pouf skittered toward one of the squirrel-sized tables, picked up the chair, and started chewing on it.
“Pouf, no!” Toulouse cried. “The treats are over there! Behind the glass!”
Marie handed him a tart, which he popped in his mouth whole and stored in his cheek. “So good! So good! Yum-yum-yum-can-I-have-another!”
The door opened again.
“Louis!” half a dozen cats from the Alley Cat Parlor sang as they rushed in.
Suddenly, the Purrfect Paw-tisserie swirled with activity. Marie and Louis served up treats while several of the alley cats gathered around the piano, singing along with Berlioz as he played a song about how wonderful it was to be a cat. Roquefort and his cousins tasted every single type of treat in the pastry case while O’Malley and Duchess admired Toulouse’s artwork.
After a little while, Pierre went to the piano and barked to get everyone’s attention. The crowd quieted down and gathered around.
“I think I speak for both myself and my dear old friend Monsieur Louis Midnight,” Pierre began, “when I say it’s wonderful to once again see the animals of Paris gathered here. I had my doubts that it would work, but Berlioz, Toulouse, and Marie have shown us what they can do with some kitten creativity and collaboration. Congratulations, you three!”