Софи Райан - Buy А Whisker

“Why do I even have these . . . discussions with you?” I said to him. He regarded me thoughtfully, as though he couldn’t figure it out, either.

Juggling purse, bag and cat, I managed to get the door locked and hurried across the lot to the SUV. I put everything, including Elvis, on the passenger side. The cat shook himself and then got settled on the seat. As I pulled out of the lot, he looked both ways. Whoever Elvis had belonged to before me had clearly driven around with him a lot. He’d look both ways at an intersection or a stop sign, and he’d even turn to check over his shoulder when I backed up. Once he’d meowed loudly at me when I’d run a yellow light. It was like having a little furry backseat driver.

Once we were home, I got Elvis some fresh water and a little something to eat. Then I went into the bedroom to change. It was cold, but I wanted to walk downtown to meet Liz instead of taking the SUV, so I put on leggings under my jeans, along with a lavender turtleneck and a heavy cable-knit sweater over that. I stuck my feet into my favorite fleece-lined booties and went out to the kitchen.

“Want to go take a look at the apartment?” I said to Elvis. He was washing his face, but he took a couple more swipes behind his ear and came over to me.

“Merow!” he said with enthusiasm.

I’d ended up with my house after a series of trades that had started when I’d cleaned out an old barn and the owner had told me I could have the rusting Volkswagen Beetle I’d discovered inside just for getting it off the property. Eventually I’d ended up with the chance to buy the old Victorian plus a pretty decent down payment for it. My apartment was on the main floor at the front. Gram had the second-floor unit. I wasn’t sure if she and her new husband, John, would keep it, or if they’d eventually want something bigger. At the moment they were in New Orleans for the winter, building houses for the charity Home for Good. I missed Gram, but I hadn’t seen her so happy in a long time.

The apartment Rose would be taking overlooked the backyard. Like Gram’s place, it had a covered verandah. I let myself into the unit and stood in the kitchen, looking around at all there still was to do. It was the room that needed the most work. The bottom cupboards were in place and so was the countertop, but the doors hadn’t been hung, and there was no sink or taps and no upper cabinets at all.

The walls were going to need to be touched up as well. Elvis was nosing around in the living room where the cabinet uppers were stacked on a tarp. The walls and the ceiling in there needed a couple coats of paint.

“Did I undersell how much there still is to do?” I asked the cat.

He looked around the room and made a sound halfway between a burp and a snort. I bent over and scooped him up. “Thank you for that vote of confidence,” I said.

He leaned over and licked my ear.

Elvis was contentedly ensconced in front of Jeopardy! when I headed out, the TV set on a timer to shut off when the game show was over. He watched the show faithfully, Monday through Friday. I had no idea why he liked it so much. Maybe it was the theme music, maybe it was host, Alex Trebek, or for all I knew, maybe Elvis was playing along at home.

I got to The Black Bear about five minutes before Liz. The place was only about a third full, typical for a Tuesday in January, I knew. Sam gave me a hug and showed me to a booth along the back wall. He was tall and lean. His shaggy hair was a mix of blond and white, and he was usually wearing a pair of dollar-store reading glasses.

“Is Jess meeting you?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No. Liz.”

“What can I get you while you wait?”

“I’m not driving,” I said. “So maybe a glass of wine.”

“I have this new hot-toddy recipe,” Sam said, running his fingers over his beard. “Want to try it?”

I eyed him suspiciously. Sam’s drink concoctions had a tendency to lead to a person waking up wearing a sombrero, with their cheek drool-stuck to the table and no memory of the previous twelve hours.

“What’s in it?” I said.

“Cranberry juice, apple cider, Patrón, Drambuie and some fresh lime,” he said, ticking off each ingredient on his fingers.

“Tequila and apple cider?” I shook my head. “I think I’ll just stick with a glass of white wine.”

Sam leaned over to plant a kiss on the top of my head. “Good choice,” he said. “I’ll send someone right over with it.”

Liz arrived just as my glass of wine did. “I’ll have a cup of coffee, please,” she said to our waiter. “And it’s one check. Mine.”

He nodded. “I’ll be right back.”

Liz tossed her coat onto the seat of the booth and slid in next to it.

“What are Avery and Rose making?” I asked.

“Some kind of five-layer lemon cake with the raspberry preserves Rose put up last fall. Avery picked all the berries for her.”

“It sounds good,” I said, rubbing my hands, which were still cold, together. Maybe I should have ordered the hot toddy after all, I thought.

“It probably will be,” Liz said as the waiter came back with her steaming mug of coffee. “I don’t have the patience to teach Avery how to bake. Not that I bake anyway.”

We both ordered the hot turkey sandwich. I knew the turkey would have been roasted earlier in the day, the gravy hadn’t come out of a can and the thick slices of multigrain bread had come from Lily’s in the morning order.

Liz looked around. “It’s quiet,” she said. “I was hoping we’d have a few more buses of tourists from that snow tour.”

“I talked to the bus driver from today’s group,” I said. “There should be a couple more buses through on the weekend.”

“And if we get a little more snow, we should see more skiers,” Liz said, reaching for the tiny pitcher of cream the waiter had brought when he’d brought her coffee.

“Were you at the meeting about North Landing last night?” I asked.

“Oh yes.” She tapped one peach-hued nail on the table. “You know, even with the Japanese tourists and the Canadian skiers, off-season revenue for most of the businesses in town is down close to ten percent.”

I wasn’t surprised. Although I hadn’t been in business last winter, my profits were off about eight percent from my estimates. Luckily, the online store was making up the difference.

I traced the rim of my wineglass with a finger. “Do you think there’s any way the town can force Lily to sell the bakery?” I asked.

“No,” Liz said with a shake of her head. “I don’t see how they can make eminent domain—or anything else for that matter—work. A good lawyer could argue against the public-use clause.”

I exhaled loudly. “Is there a chance that Lily can be persuaded to change her mind?”

Liz laughed, but there wasn’t any real humor in the sound. “Name someone who hasn’t tried. A couple of people spoke to Caroline, for all the good it did—which was none.”

Caroline was Lily’s mother. I sometimes saw her running at the track when I was there. I had no idea how she felt about the development project. I did know that Caroline was the kind of person who’d support her daughter no matter what her own opinion was. My own mother was the same way.

The waiter arrived then with our sandwiches. They came with a side of cranberry chutney and another of apple carrot salad.

Liz picked up her knife and fork, cut a bite of her sandwich and ate it. “Oh, that’s good,” she said. She set down her fork and reached for her coffee. “You know, if the development were to go ahead, I could live in one of the new apartments, eat here whenever I felt like it and never have to lay eyes on one of Avery’s kale frittatas again.”