Софи Келли - Paws Аnd Effect

There was a stray dried leaf on the windshield of the truck. Harry Taylor had been over earlier in the week to clean up my flowerbeds. He’d covered the two new bushes he’d planted the previous summer and some of the dried, wizened leaves that had been caught at the base of the shrubs had blown around the yard, much to the delight of Owen, who had chased them like he was a kitten again.

I leaned over and brushed the crumpled maple leaf off the windshield before climbing into the truck and setting my various bags on the passenger floor mat.

I adjusted the rearview mirror, looked around to make sure I had everything and said, “I know you’re here, Owen.”

Nothing. No murp, meow or hiss. I folded my hands in my lap and waited. A minute went by—maybe—it seemed longer but I knew it couldn’t have been, given Owen’s impatience.

“I have the rest of the morning,” I said, a warning edge creeping into my voice. Both cats may have been smarter than the average feline, but neither one of them could tell time as far as I knew. I looked at the “empty” bench seat beside me and in a moment Owen winked into sight. I had no good words to explain what it was like, suddenly seeing the little tabby in a spot that had previously appeared to be empty. It seemed to me that there was the softest of pops as he appeared, but I wasn’t even certain that it wasn’t just my mind filling in a blank because I thought there should be a sound. Owen fixed his golden eyes on me and tried to look innocent. That was a waste of time. We both knew he was trying to sneak down to the library, probably because he’d heard me say Maggie was there.

Owen adored Maggie. Like Rebecca she spoiled him with catnip chickens. In return Owen could be counted on to dispatch any small, furry vermin that made the mistake of intruding in Maggie’s life. Maggie was one of the kindest people I’d ever met. I’d seen her rescue a seagull with a broken wing and carefully carry a spider out of her studio, but she was terrified of any kind of rodent. She wouldn’t see the humor in the dead vole in Marcus’s boot at all.

I stuck the key in the ignition and reached for my seat belt. “Buckle up,” I said to Owen.

To my delight he actually scanned the seat. Then he took a couple of steps toward me and meowed, studying me with narrowed eyes.

I backed out onto Mountain Road. “Didn’t see that coming, did you?” I said with a grin.

3

Owen continued to eye me with suspicion, even looking back over his shoulder as though he expected me to pull back into the yard, tuck him against my elbow like a football and sprint for the house.

The cat sneaking into the truck had happened more than once. I’d put him back in the house and then try to squeeze into the truck again without leaving any space for him to slip by me.

It didn’t work. He was fast, more than a little devious and his ace in the hole was being able to make himself invisible. I couldn’t win, so this time I wasn’t even starting the contest.

“You may come to the library on two conditions.” I held up a finger. “One, no wandering around the building. And two”—I held up a second finger—“after you see Maggie you stay in my office.”

Owen’s whiskers twitched.

I waited and tried not to think about the fact that I was negotiating with a cat.

“Mrr,” he finally said.

We were agreed, I decided.

I started down the hill, braking suddenly for a soccer ball that came out of nowhere, bouncing into the street. One of the Justason boys—my up-the-hill neighbors—came out of a yard, waved at me when he recognized the truck, retrieved the ball and disappeared around a dense cedar hedge.

Owen looked out through the windshield, a sour expression on his face. He’d almost landed on top of my messenger bag when I jammed on the brakes.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

He shook himself, stretched out on the seat and grumbled the rest of the way down the hill. I stopped at Eric’s Place for a chicken salad sandwich and a cinnamon roll for Maggie. Owen sniffed the takeout bag when I set it on the seat between us but otherwise he ignored me.

I parked at the far end of the library lot and before I did anything else fished my phone out of my bag. Marcus hadn’t called. I kept a couple of cloth bags under the seat of the truck in case I needed them for groceries—and wayward cats. Owen climbed in without complaint. Maggie was inside. I think he would have climbed in a container of garbage if it meant he’d get to see her.

“Not a sound,” I warned sternly. “Not. A. Sound.”

I gathered up all my various bags and headed for the steps, loaded like a Sherpa guide headed up the side of Mount Everest.

Abigail was at the circulation desk, talking to someone on the phone. She raised a hand in hello as I passed her on my way to the stairs.

“I’ll take you up to my office and then I’ll go get—” I didn’t get to finish the sentence. The cloth bag squirmed against my hip and Owen leaped out. He bolted across the mosaic tile floor and disappeared around a shelving unit. I looked around. The library was quiet. Maybe no one will see him. Maybe I can just give chase, corral Owen and no one will be the wiser .

Wishful thinking on my part.

I dropped everything but Maggie’s lunch on one of the low tables in the children’s department and gave chase. Owen wasn’t on the other side of the shelves. In fact I didn’t see so much as a twitch of whisker or a flick of his tabby tail.

I headed for the meeting room where Abigail had gotten John settled. That’s where Maggie was, so that’s where Owen would be.

And he was, already sitting on a chair, head cocked to one side while Maggie leaned down, talking to him in a low voice. Rebecca was seated on the other side of the long table next to John. Several of her mother’s journals were spread in front of them. John looked up and raised a hand in hello before dropping his gaze back down to the open notebook he’d been studying.

I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Maggie caught sight of me in the doorway and grinned. “Hi, Kath,” she said. “I see you brought us some help.”

“I’m sorry.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “He snuck in the truck and I wanted to see how you were all doing. I should have turned around.” I glared at Owen as I said the last sentence. As soon as I got my hands on that furry little sneak I was taking him back home.

And the furry little sneak knew that. He jumped up onto the table and walked across it to Rebecca, sitting down next to her elbow.

“Hello, Owen,” she said, beaming at him. “You’re looking very handsome today.” She looked up at me. “Hello, Kathleen,” she said.

“Hello, Rebecca,” I said. I handed Maggie the takeout bag with her lunch and started around the end of the table after Owen. “I’m sorry for the disruption.”

“Owen’s not a disruption,” Rebecca said. The cat gave me a smug look and nudged her pencil with his paw.

“Owen,” I said sharply. “Leave that alone!”

The pencil rolled across the tabletop. Owen walked behind it to the table edge and watched as Rebecca caught it before it ended up on the floor.

I tucked a strand of hair that had fallen in my face back behind my ear. “He may not be a disruption but he has no business being here, either,” I said, trying and failing to keep the frustration I was feeling out of my voice. “I thought I could take him up to my office and he’d stay there.”

“I think the cat’s out of the bag,” Rebecca said, eyes twinkling.

Behind me Maggie gave a snort of laughter. I turned to look at her.

“I’m sorry, Kathleen,” she laughed. “Rebecca’s right.”

“Both of you are a big part of why that cat is so spoiled.” I had to stop myself from shaking my finger at them.