Софи Келли - Cat Trick

I let myself into the kitchen. Both cats were waiting. I kicked off my shoes and knelt beside them. Owen immediately began sniffing the sling. Hercules climbed up on my lap and licked my chin. I wasn’t going to sit around on the floor, crying. I was going to fix things with Marcus. I was going to keep apologizing until he listened.

His cell phone went to voice mail. I wasn’t surprised. There was no answer at his house. I heard something clatter to the floor in the kitchen. I went out to find Owen and Hercules with my truck keys between them. “You’re not exactly subtle,” I said, bending to pick up the key ring. “Then again, if I see him in person, maybe I can get him to listen.”

Owen meowed loudly. I looked at Hercules, and after what seemed to be a moment’s hesitation, he gave a soft meow as well. I knew it was a bad idea to be driving one-handed, but I was past caring.

The cats followed me out to the truck, and there didn’t seem to be any reason not to let them come. This time Owen looked out the passenger window while Herc sat beside me and stared out the windshield.

Marcus wasn’t down by the tents. He wasn’t at the police station, either. We drove all over the downtown, but there was no sign of him or his car. I ground my teeth together against the gnawing pain in my shoulder and drove out to his little house. It was in darkness and there was no SUV in the driveway.

I tried his cell again and his home phone. Voice mail, both times.

“He doesn’t want to talk to me.” Hercules leaned against my side, and Owen walked across the front seat to rub his furry cheek against my good hand. “Let’s go home,” I said.

I pulled into the driveway, turned off the truck and pulled the key out of the ignition. “I ruined everything with Marcus,” I said. I sucked in a breath. “It’s over, and maybe it never really got started.”

I walked around the side of the house with the cats trailing me. I didn’t see the chair until I almost fell over it. It was sitting on the path in front of the back stairs.

My rocking chair.

It wasn’t in pieces anymore. It was all there, every joint strong and tight, with a new leather back and seat. It was back together, every single piece.

The chair looked wonderful. Absolutely wonderful.

But not nearly as wonderful as the long-legged detective who was sitting on my back step.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Sofie Kellyis an author and mixed-media artist who lives on the East Coast with her husband and daughter. In her spare time she practices Wu-style tai chi and likes to prowl around thrift stores. And she admits to having a small crush on Matt Lauer.

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