The Quilt - Leann Sweeney

Candace had toyed with the idea of keeping Boy, but said her mother was too allergic. Even though Candace had her own apartment, cat hair clung to everything. During the last two weeks, that had proved valuable. But not for someone who sneezed and wheezed like Candace’s mom. Besides, Boy demanded plenty of attention.

Tom carried the crate, and Mr. Green was completely surprised when Alfreda ushered the three of us into his tiny living room.

He smiled when he recognized me and said, “We havin’ a party or something? I hear that police business you came to see me about the other day is all resolved.”

I introduced Tom and Candace to Mr. Green and Alfreda. Tom set down the carrier without Mr. Green seeming to notice. But when Boy decided to make his presence known with a loud meow—the kind Siamese cats are famous for—Mr. Green sat taller and looked around.

He then met my gaze. “What you got there, missy?”

“Not exactly a new Banjo. But I think you might like this guy.” I knelt and opened the crate.

Boy stuck his head out to check the place out, but according to Candace, he wasn’t a stranger to anyone. He loved people, and the blanket across Mr. Green’s lap was just the kind of thing he lived for.

Boy walked out of the crate, took one look at Mr. Green and hopped into his lap.

Let the purring begin , I thought with a smile.