Ignore.
“Hey, kitty.” A giant face appeared right in front of him, just inches away.
“How are you, kitty?”
He had to pull back slightly to get the face in focus. A kid. Of course. Wispy blond hair that looked like it had come from a milkweed. Rosy cheeks and lips. A sweet shyness in her eyes that took Max completely by surprise.
She smiled. With her stubby little hand, she patted him on the head. Nothing that even came close to a real pet or stroke. Just this awkward pat that he hardly felt. Could anything be more innocent or charming?
Deep inside, he felt a response he’d previously associated with Melody. A softening of his heart. And then it was gone, and he was once again wishing he were home, coming down from a catnip high while lying in a patch of sunshine.
Melody placed a chair next to the table. “Everybody sit on the floor.”
Max was surprised when the kids obeyed. They scrambled for the rug, sitting cross-legged, heads bent back, shifting and squirming the way kids do. The little girl with the milkweed hair gave him one final smile and swirled away. But she didn’t go far. She parked herself close to the table, within touching distance of Max.
He wondered if Joe would give him chicken.
Melody opened the book. It was a big book. She’d read the story to him last night for practice. A long story. Kids today didn’t have the patience to sit through a story that long. Especially a book story. No, they needed TV and games and visual sedation.
Max was mistaken.
They grew quiet and still. Melody didn’t even have to raise her voice. And what a voice she had. So soft and soothing, so compelling. Max himself was rapt, watching her face as she read, watching the soft curve of her shiny dark hair as it fell against her neck.
He heard a footfall and looked up to see Joe reaching blindly for a chair, sitting down, his expression similar to that of the kids. Oh, man. The guy was in love, and who could blame him? What a shame, because Max was going to have to put a stop to this whole thing. He hadn’t quite figured out the when and how, but he’d brought them together. He could break them up.
Even though Max was on cat time, the reading seemed to move quickly. Before he knew it, Melody was shutting the book and picking up Max, pulling him onto her lap.
“You were such a perfect gentleman,” she told him. She sounded so proud, and Max felt himself expanding a little, his head going a bit higher.
“Does anybody want to pet him before we leave?”
Good Lord. Not an open invitation.
All of the kids-every last one of them-scrambled to their feet, and suddenly Max was being mobbed by sticky hands and jostling bodies. A Beatle in their heyday couldn’t have gotten more unwanted attention. Where were the bouncers? He needed bouncers!
“Easy,” Melody said, pulling Max closer and shielding him with her arm.
“You’re scaring him!” the girl with the milkweed hair told the mob.
Melody stood with Max in her arms. Suddenly Joe was there, trying to control the out-of-control brats.
Max hoped he’d whip out his gun and tell them to get back, but he didn’t. He just told them they were being too rough.
The kids whimpered and calmed down. Some stalked away, and others stood waiting for instructions. Those with patience were allowed to pet Max. And then it was over. He would never have to endure such public humiliation again.
Without touching him, the little milkweed girl looked into his eyes and said, “I hope you come back, Max.”
Regarding him in a way that said she knew he understood every word she said. Somebody once told him that cats didn’t steal a baby’s breath. No, cats breathed souls into humans. Otherwise every kid on the planet would be a raging sociopath.
The kids ran off to get ready for bed.
“That went well,” Melody said.
Max looked around for his carrier. There it was, under the table. He hated being put in it when the carrier was on his own turf, but right now he was dying to get inside. He couldn’t wait to get home and get out of his thneed.
“What would you think about doing this once a week?” Joe asked.
Max couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
Melody pulled the pink carrier out from under the table and put Max inside, zipping it closed. Max watched them both through the mesh. He wasn’t even interested in chicken anymore; he just wanted to go home.
“I’d love to,” Melody said.
Max hated to be cynical, but were either of them thinking of the little brats that had poked and grabbed at him? Was this really about them? Or was it about hooking up? All the more reason to get rid of Joe as soon as possible. Maybe even tonight.
Outside in the car, Joe in the passenger seat, Max in back, Melody pulled away from the curb.
She liked Joe.
On one hand, she was afraid to let herself hope for something wonderful, and on the other, she wanted to open herself completely to this new person and this new chance at happiness. And just the way it had happened, the way Max had almost seemed to bring him home. Like it was meant to be.
But sometimes she would catch herself thinking about David, comparing Joe to David, worrying about what David would think. Was it too soon? All of these thoughts collided in her head, and the only real way to get rid of them was to kiss Joe again, and laugh with Joe. Immerse herself in Joe.
She didn’t want to let him out of her sight, because when he was gone doubts crept in. And maybe he felt the same, because he stayed over most of the time now. Yesterday she almost suggested he move in, but she’d caught herself just in time.
Too soon.
And it was too perfect. Nothing was this perfect. She knew that.
“Would you like to do something?” she asked.
“Like what?”
“We could go to your place.”
He didn’t answer for a long moment. “That’s not a good idea. Too messy.”
“I don’t mind a mess.”
“I wouldn’t want you to see it that way. I haven’t been there much lately. No time to clean.”
She’d never been to his place. In fact, she didn’t even know where his place was. What did she know about him? Really? He’d brought Max home. He was kind. He worked at a shelter. But when she thought about it, when she tried to think of any conversation that dealt with anything beyond her job, the shelter, and Max, she couldn’t come up with much. He knew all about David and David’s murder. Melody had drunk too much wine on several occasions and blabbed on and on about her sister and her mother and her father. But Joe… She knew nothing about Joe.
He had a secret. She was sure he had a secret. He was a part of her life, but she wasn’t a part of his. Sometimes in her heart of hearts, she felt she should embrace the crazy cat lady thing and forget about men completely. Why shouldn’t a woman be able to find enough happiness in her job, baking cupcakes, and spoiling her cat? Men just complicated things. Men just disrupted the peace.
“I like hanging out at your place,” Joe said, reaching for her hand, rubbing her knuckles with his thumb. “Just the two of us.”
Melody swore she could feel Max’s disapproval coming from the backseat. Like a kid who resented the new stepdad. “Three of us,” she said.
Melody couldn’t let Joe go, not yet. She told herself she’d hang on a little longer, see if he started opening up to her, see if he finally began to share even a little bit of his own life.
After the reading at Gimme Shelter, she and Joe went to the grocery store and picked up shrimp to grill. And once they were home, they let Max roam around in the backyard where he sniffed dandelions and ate grass until he threw up.
Inside, they ate at the table with flowers in the center, flowers Melody had picked from the yard. Joe sat where David used to sit, and the wine glass he lifted to his lips had once touched David’s.
“You okay?” Joe asked.
Was he married? Was that his secret? “Sometimes I think I should move. Sometimes I think it’s not good for me to be here.”