Douglas, Nelson - Cat in a Flamingo Fedora

"Thank me? I just did my job, ran interference."

"You were afraid I had designs on you," he accused softly.

"Noooo! Well, yes. I'd had a bad experience lately with another famous man also infamous as a ladies' man."

"I know how bad I am considered. But I am that no longer."

"Verina--?"

"My last weakness. I would die if Constance should find out, which is why I thank you for freeing me from the last of my bad habits. I am a new man."

"How did I--?"

"That incident with the hat. It showed me how shallow and jealous Verina was. Now that I have a daughter of my own, I look at women differently. You are so fresh, so honest. I saw you as my daughter grown, not as a rival of Verina's, as she saw you. This had never happened to me before. It gave me hope.

"My marriage was my first step toward a new, more stable life. Art eats you up. And when you become notorious as a young man, you want to eat everything around you to feed your artistic appetite. It is a wasteful, foolish life, and I lived it for many decades, until the adulation of women became a necessity, especially as I got older and they got younger. I have fought this demon ego that men are encouraged to serve, and I finally think I will wi n. I am a vain man, but I am also a good artist, and this life will destroy my talent if I do not leave it behind."

"I didn't do this, Domingo. You did."

"With help. I had a very good counselor. An anonymous counselor. I gave him hell, but he never abandoned me."

"Really," said Temple. "And, I was just wondering, when did your wife and child arrive? I never saw them."

"It was a surprise. They flew in from Switzerland. Constance is an accomplished pianist, did you know? It was late, nearly midnight, and one of my darkest hours, I may tell you. And there they were in the hallway, my wife and baby. Just what I needed to banish forever the dark side of my self.

"I had been making progress, but so often when I was alone that dark side took over, goading me. You will never understand the temptations that come to a man in my position, and how easily they overtake him."

"I'm glad you've beaten yours, Domingo."

Temple put out her hand, and he shook it, then lifted it for a kiss.

On that Continental and unexpected parting note, Temple finished the last of her errands, with almost the last of her important questions answered.

Chapter37

Postmortems

"I'm happy to go with you to the vet's, Temple, but what's your real reason?"

Matt wouldn't take his eyes off her, so she couldn't dismiss his question, though she'd hoped to answer it after all her uncertainties about Louie were answered.

She kept her eyes on the route she was driving, and told him about them all: Savannah, Molina's inconclusive conclusions and finally Domingo.

Matt was shocked into silence.

"He appreciated my help? After wrestling on the phone with me like an antagonistic angel from the Old Testament? I can't tell you how much that man made me doubt myself, my current role, my history. And . . . he's all right now?"

"He believes so. And he admits that the side you saw--or heard, rather--was his demonic other half. You had to do battle with the worst of him in order for the best of him to come out.

But it worked, Matt. You're a good counselor. And so am I, by example, of course."

"Take off that halo, Temple. It clashes with your fiery hair."

"I'm just so pleased. Domingo really feels rather fatherly toward me, can you imagine? I remind him of what he hopes his daughter will be one day, if that makes sense. That's so...

sweet. That's so much better for the self-esteem than being hit on by older men, honest."

"I guess men can't know what that feels like."

"Maybe you can." Temple shot him a look, but Matt was gazing out the window, lost in his own reflections. "All's well that ends well," she said, quoting cliched Shakespeare and so happy she didn't care.

"And Louie has been vasectomized? What does that mean?"

"I'm hoping Dr. Doolittle will tell us."

****************

"Yes, now that I examine the area --Louie, stay still!--I can feel the snipped ends.

Remarkable."

Dr. Doolittle shook her head over Louie's involuntarily prone form. "Marge, you can take him back to his cage."

"Cats can be vasectomized," the vet explained to Matt and Temple. "Though their equipment is smaller than human anatomy, we have the instruments and skill to do it. We just don't, because vasectomy only prevents reproduction. It doesn't end any of the tomcat behavior that pet owners find hard to take."

"What is that, Doctor? I haven't had any problems with Louie."

"Apparently he goes out on his own enough that he doesn't feel the need to mark your living quarters as territory. If he did, the stench would send you to me pronto. And, of course, he'll still pursue females and fight males for the privilege. You'd be better off completely neutering him and confining him indoors."

Temple sighed. Did questions of animal behavior never end, especially among humans? "I'd hate to traumatize him again, after what he's been through. If he can't create unwanted kitties, that's the most important part."

"No, the most important part to Louie is he's still a fully functional male." Dr. Doolittle shook her head. "He has always been the most unusual cat, and now he's truly atypical. Well, we'll watch and see. If he comes home with too many claw slashes on his handsome face, you may want to do the more advanced procedure. I really don't approve of cats roaming."

"Louie doesn't actually roam," Temple tried to explain. "He goes places to do things. And he's a media cat now. We don't want to change his personality now that he's a star."

"Maybe not. You can pick him up for good later this afternoon."

As they left the veterinarian's office, Matt frowned.

"Seems you're advocating a double standard here, Temple."

"How?"

"You're allowing the cat to have his cake and eat it too, but we poor human males aren't allowed the same options."

"When you're all fixed like Louie," she said sternly, "and can't leave unwanted children like Alison Darby littered about, we'll see."

*******************

Temple dropped Matt off at the Circle Ritz and decided to run one last errand. She smiled en route to the Crystal Phoenix. This was the first time Matt had spoken in defense of the virile male. Maybe he was beginning to feel the advantages of the noncelibate lifestyle.

She didn't know if Michelle would still be in residence, but she called up and heard the familiar " 'Alio?"

Temple felt she owed Michelle an explanation of how her card had been erroneously marked, and by whom. She wanted to clear herself with Darren Cooke's widow, remove any last vestige of doubt. This was an innocent errand, and she thought Michelle should know what demons were on her late husband's back: the letters from the unknown child, who may not even be his child. It would help her understand his suicide. God, Temple thought, putting herself in his shoes. Maybe he had sinned, but the punishment he faced in his last hours of life was more than sufficient payment.

Room 711 was the same, except that signs of packing lay strewn on the living-room furniture and Padgett could be heard gurgling from the bedroom.

"I'm glad I caught you," Temple said. "You should know some things."

"Yes?" Michelle kept fussing with the baby's things, folding and packing frilly dresses in exquisitely embroidered pastel fabric.

Darling things. A baby would be like doll I can carry. Maybe not so bad. Maybe like a cat, without fur.

"Can I help? Apparently your nanny is busy with Padgett."

"No. She's gone. She was only a temporary."

"Really? It'll be hard, to take a baby on the long flight back to Paris, alone."