Блейз Клемент - The Cat Sitter's Cradle

“There’s some beautiful blood oranges, too, and a slice of apple pie.”

“I’ll have the pie for supper and the soup for dessert.”

I followed her into the apartment, practically stepping in place at times because she moved so slowly. Her condo was lovely, with glass doors opening to a long sun porch facing the Gulf. I knew that if Marilee were alive today, she’d be happy to see how Cora has turned her little apartment into such a lovely and comfortable place to live. It was all pink marble and turquoise linen and shafts of sunlight.

She stopped at a bar separating a minuscule kitchen from the rest of the room. While she lifted the sweating container of frozen soup from the bag, I went around her to the kitchen, where a fresh round loaf of chocolate bread was steaming on a wooden board on the counter. Cora always keeps her kettle warm, just in case company comes, so it only took a minute to put tea bags in a Brown Betty pot and pour hot water on them. While I got down cups and saucers, Cora took a chair at a skirted ice cream table by the windows.

She said, “Now, don’t slice that bread. It’s better if you tear off pieces.”

She always says that.

I rummaged in the refrigerator for butter to add to the tea tray. “I know.”

I always say that.

I put the daisies in a little pink vase by the sink and brought the bread and the tea tray out to the table.

Cora cleared her throat, carefully sliding her saucer and cup closer. “Was it you that found that drowned man?”

I sighed. “How did you know about that?”

In the sunlight from the glass doors, her face seemed to fracture into millions of tiny, fine lines. “Well, Dixie, the news said the man was found by his pet sitter, and it was on Siesta Key. Who else could it be?”

I sat down and poured the tea. “It was awful.”

“I imagine so.” She pushed the bread toward me with a smile. “This should help.”

I broke off a small chunk and buttered it. It was so warm there were little curls of steam rising up and the butter melted right into it. I put it in my mouth and allowed myself a tiny moment of sheer bliss.

“Oh my God,” I moaned. “I needed that.”

Cora took a piece herself, and we sat in silence for a while, luxuriating in the simple joy of it. Occasionally Cora hummed a little tune to herself. I loved that we could sit in perfect silence and feel completely comfortable doing it. That’s a sign of real friendship.

After a while she said, “So what do you hear from that fellow of yours?”

She meant Guidry. “He’s not my fellow anymore, remember? He ran away to New Orleans.”

She nodded. I could tell she was disappointed, but Cora wasn’t one to cry over spilt milk, and I think she understood why I couldn’t follow Guidry to New Orleans, even if she didn’t completely approve of it.

I smiled coyly. “But I am having dinner with someone tonight.”

Her eyes brightened. “Oh? Do tell!”

“Don’t get too excited. It’s not that big a deal.”

“It’s with that Ethan Crane fellow, I can tell by the look in your eyes.”

“Oh, stop it, no you can’t.”

“Really? So who’s your date with tonight?”

I laughed. “It’s not a date.”

She clapped her hands. “I knew it! You’ve had your eye on him for a long time. I knew his grandfather, you know. He was a lovely man, too.”

“Well, don’t have a cow, it’s just dinner. It’s not like we’re going to live happily ever after. In fact, I’m seriously thinking about canceling it completely. I’m not ready for anything serious, and it’s not right to lead him on.”

Cora’s smile fell away, and she set her cup down with a little clinking sound against the saucer. “Dixie, you think those people chose to leave you?”

“Huh?”

She reached out and laid her hand on top of mine. “You think love can’t last, is that what it is? That anybody that loves you will eventually leave?”

“Cora…” I couldn’t finish. Tears instantly sprang to my eyes. I knew exactly what she was getting at.

“Dixie, sometimes our minds believe things our hearts know aren’t true. You’ve had a rough go of it, so I can’t blame you, but it’s time to put all that behind you.”

I dabbed at my eyes with my napkin and tried to compose myself while she tore off another piece of bread and smoothed some butter on it. She was right. I think there was a part of me that was beginning to wonder if I would ever be able to hang on to anything that I loved. First my father, then my mother, then my daughter and my husband, and then Guidry …

“You can’t go on being mad at everyone that’s ever hurt you. At some point you just have to forgive them.”

I said, “I’m not mad at anyone.”

“Oh, sweetheart, of course you are. For years I was mad at my own granddaughter for leaving me. And she was murdered! Certainly wasn’t her fault. But that doesn’t make any difference. It’s just natural human feelings, but you can’t live the rest of your life all swaddled up and protected. Sooner or later you have to forgive. You have to let that anger go or your heart will just dry right up.”

I nodded silently. I knew she was right, but I wasn’t sure how I could just let all of it go. We watched the boats out on the ocean sail by, and after a little while I said, “I think maybe I’m just a little scared, too.”

“Well, let’s talk about that. What are you scared of?”

“You know, you have to make such big sacrifices to be in love, and I like my life the way it is. I have all my friends and my family and my pets to take care of. But when you’re with someone, you have to do all kinds of things to make it work. You have to compromise and share and change.”

Cora fixed me with her clear blue eyes. “Dixie, those are all good things.” She smiled mischievously. “And as I recall, that Ethan Crane fellow is about as delicious as…” She waved a piece of chocolate bread in the air and popped it in her mouth.

17

It was exactly two minutes after eight. I was wearing my purple dress and standing next to Ethan, or to be exact, I was wearing my purple dress and teetering next to Ethan on my three-inch high-heel shoes.

We were watching the waiters set our table. It was next to the window, but with a perfect view of the entire candlelit dining room. There were sparkling wineglasses and silverware on all the tables, which were covered in crisp white linen. As we followed the hostess in, I noticed more than a few people watching us with knowing looks. I wasn’t sure exactly what it was they were all knowing, but I felt happy and proud to be seen in public with a man as stunning as Ethan.

His fingertips were on the small of my back, and I suddenly had the strongest feeling of déjà vu I’ve ever had in my life.

When we sat down, a young man handed us menus, telling us his name was Paolo and that he would be our waiter for the evening. I ran my eyes up and down the menu a couple of times before I realized it was all in Spanish and I wasn’t comprehending a single word of it. I peeked over my menu to see if Ethan was doing any better.

As usual, just looking at him made me a little short of breath. He was wearing a dark fitted jacket over a crisp white shirt and a narrow lavender tie. With his thick locks of curly black hair and high cheekbones, he looked like a silent-film star. There were tiny beads of sweat on his forehead, and I realized with a twinge in my heart that he was just as nervous as I was.

He looked up and caught me spying on him. “You look amazing, by the way.”

I rolled my eyes and retreated back behind my menu. I felt like a complete and utter idiot, but in a good way.

A stocky man with a handlebar mustache and a white dinner jacket set two glasses of red wine on the table. Ethan immediately jumped out of his seat, and the two men bear-hugged and slapped each other’s backs.