Ник Сайнт: Purrfect Cut

“We can forgive you, Odelia,” finally spoke Harriet, “but we’ll never forget.”

Her words elicited a snicker from Brutus, but the nasty glance she gave him quickly shut him up.

“What do you mean?” Odelia asked.

“It means we’re insulted,” said Harriet. “And a cat never forgets.”

“I think that’s elephants, though,” said Max.

“Cats, too,” said Dooley. “We have a mind like a steel trap.”

“That’s elephants,” Max insisted. “Elephants never forget a face, or if someone stepped on their toe at some point. They will take revenge, even if years have passed since the toe-stepping incident.”

“How can someone step on an elephant’s toes?” said Brutus. “Have you seen an elephant’s foot? He doesn’t even have toes.”

“An elephant does have toes,” Max insisted stubbornly, “and if you step on them he’ll never forget your face, and the first chance he gets, even if a hundred years have passed, he’ll step right back on your toes. Quid pro quo.”

“Quit what?” asked Brutus.

“If an elephant stepped on my toes I’d be flat as a pancake,” said Harriet.

“I’m sure it’s not elephants but cats that never forget a face,” said Dooley. “It was on the Discovery Channel.”

“Oh, my God!” said Harriet. “Will you shut up about the Discovery Channel for one minute!”

Odelia turned back to face the front, put the car in gear, and soon they were tootling along the road in perfect silence, apart from Dooley’s occasional mutterings about elephants and things he’d seen on the Discovery Channel.

They made good time, and before long had left Hampton Cove behind and were driving along the coast, where all the billionaires lived—and the occasional millionaire who got lost when looking to land a house deal. This was celebrity land, with more celebrities living in close proximity than in probably any other place in the country, except, of course, Beverly Hills or Malibu, where celebrities tend to spring up like a rash, or a fungoid growth.

“Nice houses,” said Chase finally as they passed million-dollar home after million-dollar home. Not that there was a lot to see, as billionaires are notoriously shy, and don’t like to show their faces or even their million-dollar dwellings, except in the form of an exclusive spread in Architectural Digest .

“I wouldn’t mind living here,” said Harriet as she stared out the window.

“I would,” said Max, surprisingly. “I like my home just the way it is.”

“Small, you mean?” asked Harriet.

“Cozy,” he countered. “These McMansions are so gigantic you can spend days wandering around without meeting a single soul. You could probably get lost and only be found when there’s nothing left of you but a rotting carcass.”

“Aren’t we in a sunny mood?” said Brutus.

“Just a passing thought,” said Max.

“You exaggerate, Max,” said Harriet, who liked her celebrities.

“No, I don’t. And it’s probably the reason these celebrity couples never stick it out for more than a couple of months. They move in together, then never see each other again as they live in separate wings, and if they do happen to run into each other they haven’t seen each other for so long they don’t even recognize their spouse and call the police to report a prowler.”

The cats all laughed at this, and so did Odelia. The only one who didn’t laugh was Chase, which was understandable, as he didn’t understand the finer points of the feline language. So Odelia translated the joke to him and he nodded. “I think there’s a lot of wisdom in that,” he said. “Who said it? Max?”

“Hey,” said Brutus. “Why does it always have to be Max who says the clever stuff? I’m clever, too!”

“It was Brutus,” said Odelia quickly, in an attempt to pour oil on trouble waters.

“No, it wasn’t,” Brutus muttered.

“Oh?” said Chase, sounding surprised.

“Why is he sounding so surprised?” asked Brutus. “I’m a very clever cat!”

“Don’t act so surprised,” said Odelia. “Brutus feels a little offended.”

“I’m right here!” said Brutus.

“Well, I didn’t mean to,” said Chase. “It’s just that you mention Max the most, and hardly ever talk about the others.”

Odelia felt heat rise to her cheeks. “Chase,” she said. “Maybe you shouldn’t…”

“Shouldn’t what?” said Harriet, whose eyes had turned into tiny slits. “Mention that Max is your favorite? Oh, but we’ve known about that for a long time, haven’t we?”

“Yes, we have,” Brutus grumbled.

“You guys, I’m not Odelia’s favorite,” said Max, laughing. “Not by a mile. In fact if there’s one favorite in Odelia’s life it’s Chase.”

“Max is right,” said Dooley. “He used to be the favorite but now Chase is.”

“You guys!” said Odelia, mortified. “How many times do I have to tell you? I don’t play favorites! I love you all the same.”

“Is that why you hardly ever spend time with us anymore?” asked Harriet now. “And why you spend all of your time with Chase?”

“Look, if I have, I’m sorry, all right?” Had she been spending all of her time with Chase? Hard to imagine. Then again, maybe Harriet was right. Since Chase had moved in they had been spending a lot of time together. And lately they’d gone on a lot of dates—movie nights, dinners, the odd show or concert.

“Look, if I have neglected you, I promise I’ll make it up to you, all right?”

“And how are you going to do that?” asked Harriet, who seemed to be the self-appointed president of the cat complaints committee.

“I’ll… take you all out on a date. Just the five of us. We’ll hang out all night and have the time of our lives.”

“We’re cats, Odelia,” said Max. “We don’t go out on dates.”

“Yeah, you’re confusing us with dogs,” said Harriet.

“So what would you like to do?” she asked, desperate to make it up to her feline menagerie.

“Just spend a cozy evening at home,” said Max.

“Without Chase, you mean?”

Max hesitated, then stuck his head together with the others while they seriously considered this question.

Finally, they broke the huddle and Max cleared his throat. “We don’t mind if Chase is there, as long as we all get snuggle time on the couch with you.”

“We’ll time it,” Dooley suggested. “There’s five of us, Chase included, so you can spend fifty percent of your time paying attention to us, and fifty percent to Chase.”

“I don’t think that’s fair,” said Brutus. “We should all get twelve percent of her time. Fair is fair.”

“What are those precious little furballs talking about?” asked Chase with a smile. He still found it hilarious that Odelia’s cats could talk.

“We’re in the middle of a negotiation. One night spent at home, with equal face time with me. Right now we’re at twelve percent for each of you.”

“Huh. Interesting.”

“One night isn’t enough,” said Max. “I’d say you spend one night out on the town with Chase, the other nights at home with us. Take it or leave it.”

“You drive a hard bargain, Max,” she said.

“Strictly speaking she should spend 1.4 nights with Chase, and 5.6 nights with us,” said Dooley, who’d clearly been making complicated calculations in his head.

“We can work out the details later,” said Harriet. “Right now all we want from you is a preliminary agreement.”

“Um…” said Odelia. She’d suddenly noticed that a car had been following them for a while now. It wasn’t trying very hard not to be noticed either: the little red Peugeot was almost bumper to bumper with Odelia’s pickup, and the little old lady that sat behind the wheel had her face practically plastered to the windshield and was staring at them intently.