Лори Касс - Tailing A Tabby

“Hey there.” I felt a happy smile on my face and saw an answering one on his. “Come on in. Welcome to my humble abode.”

He stepped inside, and while the houseboat had always seemed just the right size for me, it suddenly seemed far too small with the addition of a five-foot-ten, broad-shouldered man.

“This is really great.” He looked out the front window and ran his hand along the cockpit’s dashboard. “When you get tired of people, you just untie your house and go for a boat ride.”

It was a common reaction for first-time visitors. I decided not to tell him about the utilitarian technicalities involved in detaching. Let the boy keep his illusions.

“And this galley.” He grinned at the miniature kitchen. “What more do you need?”

“Mrr.”

Tucker spun around. Eddie was now standing up on the back of the seat and stretching his head high. The furry face and the human face weren’t exactly eye to eye, but it was pretty close.

“Ah.” Tucker lifted a hesitant hand. “This must be Eddie.” He looked at me. “Is it okay if I pet him?”

“As long as you don’t mind getting cat hair all over you.”

Tucker looked at his clothes. Dark red polo shirt over khaki shorts. “It’ll come off, won’t it?”

Eventually. “You didn’t have cats growing up, did you?”

He shook his head and gave Eddie a tentative rub. Eddie immediately pushed against the pat, putting his weight into it, which was enough force that Tucker’s weight was shifted. He took half a step backward. “Cat’s got some strength, doesn’t he?”

“You should smell his breath.”

Tucker eyed Eddie. “Um…”

I laughed. “Joking. His breath isn’t that bad.” Most of the time. I watched Eddie watching Tucker. My little pal was being as tentative with my boyfriend as my boyfriend was being with my cat. For a brief second I considered telling Tucker that Eddie liked being talked to, but I ran the conversation through my head and gave it a pass.

“So,” I said, “what do you want to—”

Ka-bam!

A clap of thunder buffeted the air, so intense it was almost too loud to be heard. On its heels came a sizzle of lightning that made the hairs on my arms stand up.

“Mrr,” Eddie said.

I wasn’t sure if he was protesting the storm or the way Tucker was petting him. “So,” I tried again. “What do you want to—”

Rain fell from the sky in large, loud drops. I looked at my watch. Louisa had been all of ten minutes off.

I glanced out through the front window, out to the driving rain. If this rain kept up, neither driving down to Traverse City nor going up to the Mackinac Bridge would be very sensible, or very relaxing.

“So,” I said, hoping I wasn’t starting an infinite loop. “What do you want to—”

Tucker help up his index finger and bent his head to his shoulder. “Ah… ah… choo !” He rubbed his face, still holding up his index finger, and sneezed two more deep sneezes.

“Are you getting sick?” I asked.

“I work in a hospital. You wouldn’t believe what walks in the door.”

It was hard not to edge away. “Oh.”

He smiled. “No, honestly, I feel fine. There’s probably just a lot of stuff in the air right now, with that storm coming in.”

I wasn’t sure that made a lot of sense, but hey, he was the doctor. On the other hand, wasn’t it a truism that doctors couldn’t make their own diagnoses?

“So, what do you want to do today?” he asked. “I assume boating is out.”

Yes, the signs were there. Slightly reddened eyes, slightly running nose, and a slight sag to his normally straight shoulders. Maybe it was just fatigue. He worked far too many weird hours, and that could do a number on anyone’s immune system. But the last thing I wanted to do was drag him out to expend more energy and make things worse.

On the other hand, what were we going to do all day? I kept my thoughts firmly averted from Louisa’s suggestion. We barely knew each other, after all.

Tucker hooked his finger under Eddie’s chin. “Hey, he’s purring!” He grinned. “I’m not sure I ever made a cat purr before.”

“Mrr,” Eddie said, and pushed up against Tucker’s rubbing.

An idea popped into my head. “What do you think about going to the movies?”

Both Eddie and Tucker turned to look at me. Eddie didn’t say anything, but Tucker sneezed and said, “Hot buttered popcorn, Sno-Caps, a vat of soda, and I’m happy for hours.”

“You are so not alone.”

“Any kind of movie you don’t like?”

“No horror.”

He grinned. “I don’t do movies with subtitles. Too much work.”

“I doubt the multiplex in Petoskey is showing any foreign films today.”

He held out his hand to me, palm up, inviting me to take it. “Then I say we have a plan.”

• • •

The Saturday movie marathon was a great success. We chose movies based on nothing whatsoever, picked out snacks based on what the people ahead of us bought, and after the credits rolled, we ventured out to the lobby to check the weather. If it was still raining, we went back for another round of movie and snacks. Since on that particular day it rained for twelve hours straight, we saw a lot of movies. And had a lot of snacks.

“How many movies did you watch?” Kristen had asked on Sunday afternoon. “You were really in there all day?”

And a good chunk of the night. I tallied up the films on my fingers. “There was the new Pixar movie at noon, then that romantic comedy with what’s her name around two, then a really funny vampire movie at four thirty, then that end-of-the-world movie at seven, and last was the big new thriller at nine.”

Kristen was counting along with me. “You watched five movies?”

“It was almost six. They were having a midnight showing of the first Star Wars movie, but Tucker had to be at the hospital early this morning.”

“Sounds fun,” she said halfheartedly.

For us, it had been. During the intervals between the movies, we discussed the plots and characters of the movie we’d just watched, learning a little more about each other in the process.

I was telling Kristen all about it when my cell phone rang. “Do you mind?” I asked and, when she shrugged, took the call. It was a short conversation, and when it was over, I hung up, smiling.

“Looks like I’m going to lunch tomorrow at the one restaurant in town that’s more expensive than yours,” I said.

Kristen’s eyebrows went up. “Tucker’s taking you to Seven Street? Must be true love.”

“Seven Street, yes,” I said. “But it’s not Tucker. It’s a woman.”

My best friend’s eyebrows went up even farther. “Does Tucker know about this?”

I grinned. “He’s met her.”

• • •

Barb McCade was already seated when I walked into the restaurant. I’d eaten at Seven Street once before, so I knew my typical library attire wouldn’t fit in. That morning I’d chosen a soft dress and covered it with a jacket that almost matched. Stephen had nodded at me approvingly over his coffee mug. I didn’t have the heart to tell him it was a onetime deal.

“I’m so glad you could come,” Barb said. “I thought about Three Seasons, but I thought this would be more special.”

Part of our conversation at the hospital had included the facts that Three Seasons was one of the McCades’ favorite restaurants and that the owner of said restaurant was a good friend of mine.

“No apology necessary,” I told her. “Matter of fact, there might be a law about that. No apologies required for any behavior incurred during times of extreme emergency.”

She laughed. “Aren’t you a sweetheart? But as I said before, I should have called right away to thank you for all you did.”