Софи Райан - Buy А Whisker

“She’s a great cook,” he said. His mouth twitched. “Maybe on Sunday morning Alfred will come out in his bathrobe and bring you a plate of Rose’s waffles.”

“Not listening,” I said. I put my fingers in my ears and started humming.

Mac just laughed, and when I looked at Elvis, perched on one of the stools at the counter, it seemed to me that he was laughing, too. I made a face at Mac and took my fingers out of my ears. “Now how am I going to look Mr. P. in the eye when I see him?”

Mac folded one arm over his chest and pressed the other hand over his mouth.

“What?” I said. “You want to say something, so you may as well go ahead and do it.”

“You want to know how you’re going to look Alfred in the eye?” he asked. “How about just lean down the way you usually do?”

“You’re so not funny,” I said, but I was laughing, which pretty much negated what I’d just said.

We picked up the truck at McNamara’s and then I drove over and picked up Charlotte. She was carrying two thermoses and a quilted tote bag. She climbed in the cab of the truck and set the bag carefully on the floor mat before she fastened her seat belt.

“I smell cinnamon,” I said.

“That’s because I made cinnamon rolls.”

“You’re my favorite person in the entire world,” I said as I pulled away from the curb.

“Funny how you always remember to tell me that when I have cinnamon rolls,” she said with a smile.

“Just a happy coincidence,” I said, working hard to keep a straight face.

Liz and Avery were just arriving as we pulled up in front of Legacy Place.

“I’m here,” Liz said as I joined them on the sidewalk. “And I ate scrambled tofu, which I do not intend to ever eat again.”

“It’s good for you, Nonna,” Avery said.

“At my age I don’t want good for me,” Liz groused. “I just want good.”

“Eating a healthy diet can add years to your life,” Avery retorted, a tad self-righteously.

“It doesn’t really add years to your life,” Liz retorted. “It just feels like that because it takes years to chew the darn stuff.”

I laid my head on her shoulder. “Charlotte has cinnamon rolls,” I whispered in her ear.

Liz smiled and rubbed her hands together. “Let’s go, people,” she said. “Rose is waiting. Charlotte, let me help you carry something.”

Rose and Mr. P. were waiting in Rose’s third-floor apartment. There were boxes in every room labeled in Alfred’s angular printing.

“Good morning, everyone,” Rose said when she answered the door. “Alfred was just going to take my bed apart, and that’s the last thing to do.”

Mac shot me a look. “I’ll go see if he needs any help,” he said.

Glenn had loaned me a small wheeled platform, about four feet by three feet. I rolled it into the kitchen.

“Do you want to start in here?” I asked Rose.

She nodded. “Wherever you think, dear,” she said.

“Okay. Furniture goes in the truck and boxes in the SUV.” I handed Liz the loop of rope that acted as a handle for the makeshift dolly. “Let Avery do the heavy lifting.”

“Rose and I could carry down the towels and the bedding,” Charlotte said. “Shall we use the backseat of the SUV?”

I nodded. “I’m going to see how Mac and Alfred are doing.”

Mac was just taking off the second side rail on Rose’s iron bed frame. “I’ll help you carry this down,” Mr. P. said.

“I was kind of hoping you’d supervise Avery putting boxes in my SUV,” I said. “I mean, if you don’t mind. I don’t want her to break anything.”

He smiled. “Of course. I don’t mind at all.” He headed for the kitchen.

“Does this mean you’re my muscle?” Mac asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Let’s do it,” I said. I grabbed one end of the metal headboard and he picked up the other.

“Thanks for giving up your Sunday to do this,” I said as we started for the kitchen. “There have to be a lot of other things you could be doing.”

Avery and Mr. P. were just heading out the door on their way to the elevator with a precarious-looking pile of boxes on the dolly and Alfred draped over them like he was trying to hug the whole stack.

“We’re good,” I heard him say as we cleared the doorway.

Mac smiled at me. “What else could I be doing that would be more . . . interesting than being here?” he said.

I stuck my tongue out at him.

We had the truck and the SUV loaded before ten o’clock. We made an odd little parade on the way over to the house with Liz’s car driven by Avery in the lead, a pile of curtains in the backseat, followed by Charlotte and me in the cube truck and Mac with Rose and Mr. P. in the SUV full of boxes bringing up the rear. Everyone had to have a tour of the apartment, and then we stopped for hot chocolate and cinnamon rolls. Even so, we had everything upstairs by lunchtime.

“How about grilled cheese and tomato soup for lunch?” I said when the last box came in.

“Were you going to cook?” Charlotte asked, exchanging a look with Liz. “Because you don’t have to do that. Really.”

“I know I don’t have to,” I said. “But you’ve all worked so hard. You must be hungry.”

“I think it’s a little early for lunch,” Rose said.

“Sarah’s teasing you,” Mr. P. said. “She’s not cooking. I am.”

“Thank you, Lord,” Liz said. “That scrambled tofu stuff was starting to look good.”

“You can buy tofu cheese,” Avery chimed in.

“Fascinating,” Mr. P. said. “How are you at buttering bread?”

Elvis was waiting for us, perched on the top of the cat tower. Everyone exclaimed over the quality of Alfred’s work.

Mr. P. and Avery washed their hands and then I showed them where everything was.

“Everything’s under control,” the old man said to me. “I’ll call you if I need anything.”

“Can I help?” Rose said behind me.

“We’re fine, my dear,” Alfred said. “Why don’t you take a break for a minute?”

I steered Rose over to my rocking chair. “Wasn’t this your grandmother’s?” she asked.

I nodded. “It was in my dad’s nursery when he was a baby.”

She sat down in the wooden chair and leaned back against the pillow Jess had made for me. “I remember sitting in this chair with your father when he was about a year old,” she said. “He was such a beautiful baby. So good-natured.” She reached up and gave my hand a squeeze.

Mr. P. and Avery served grilled-cheese sandwiches toasted golden brown and cut into long fingers for dipping in our tomato-rice soup. Everything was delicious, far better than if I’d tried to cook, which is what I told them.

“We really need to speed up your cooking lessons,” Rose said.

“It’s a losing battle,” I said. “But I’m willing to keep going if you are.”

Charlotte left after lunch. She was making supper for all of us back at her house. I took the truck back to McNamara’s lot and Mac followed to drive me back.

“Thank you for your help,” I said to Mac. “It would have taken a lot longer without you.”

“I don’t mind,” he said. “Like I said before, I like Rose.”

“Are you coming to Charlotte’s for supper?”

He shook his head. “I already told Charlotte thank you, but I have plans.”

“I’ll miss you . . . I mean, we’ll miss you,” I said.

Mac smiled. “Another time.” He tucked his scarf a little tighter at the neck of his coat. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” he said.

By four o’clock Rose’s apartment look pretty good. Mr. P. left with Liz and Avery to get cleaned up. We were all meeting at Charlotte’s at five. I stood in the middle of the kitchen with Rose.